Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Reading, writing, and jumping at dinosaurs
It was a surprisingly good weekend - I read the new Jasper Fforde book about Thursday Next, First Among Sequels. As always, I admire the startling twists and turns of his BookWorld and the parallel universe where Swindon is the most exciting city anywhere in Britain ... but honestly, I was a little disappointed. 16 years have passed since the previous book so instead of finding out about married life for Thursday and Landen, we jump forward and they're middle-aged parents with teenaged children. SpecOps has been officially disbanded, and Thursday has been lying about the true nature of her carpet-fitting job to her loving husband for many years. It just doesn't quite ring true.
I made it to the Perth Museum, which has a moving gallery telling stories of the Stolen Generation (more to come in a future post) and a colossal statue of a Tyrannosaurus Rex glowering down at you as you enter the gallery, its claws outstretched and jagged teeth dripping mucus. It's huge. You quail, looking up at it. And just as I was walking in, surrounded by families having an educational excursion for their toddlers and kids in pushchairs, the behemoth let out a ground-shaking roar. Now, I don't know if it's on a timer, or if there's some hidden curator snickering behind a screen who presses the "Growl" button when they see a group of susceptible looking children - but the response was panic. Shrieking, crying, needing to be picked up and bundled away ... that's the toddlers, not me, although I may have jumped a little.
I then took part in a random downtown drum circle (this is why I like Perth) and visited a couple of art galleries.
I am delighted to report that I finally moved out: I'm now in a much nicer (although more expensive) hostel. It's small - there are maybe 30 people there at the moment as opposed to over a hundred - and clean, and they grow their own herbs and mushrooms and have recycling facilities! It's surprising how few hostels do this, considering the amount of bottles and cans travellers seem to go through.
And in other news, I'm joining the ASif! crowd in an exciting one-week-only project. In 2005, Sydney writer Ben Peek interviewed 43 people on his blog to create a snapshot of Australian Speculative Fiction. This week, a group of ASif! reviewers are updating this, blogging interviews which will also be archived on ASif! as we go.
You can see the results so far at:
http://random-alex.livejournal.com/
http://girliejones.livejournal.com/
http://kathrynlinge.livejournal.com/
http://kaaronwarren.livejournal.com/
http://cassiphone.livejournal.com/
I'm very excited to be in such great company!
I made it to the Perth Museum, which has a moving gallery telling stories of the Stolen Generation (more to come in a future post) and a colossal statue of a Tyrannosaurus Rex glowering down at you as you enter the gallery, its claws outstretched and jagged teeth dripping mucus. It's huge. You quail, looking up at it. And just as I was walking in, surrounded by families having an educational excursion for their toddlers and kids in pushchairs, the behemoth let out a ground-shaking roar. Now, I don't know if it's on a timer, or if there's some hidden curator snickering behind a screen who presses the "Growl" button when they see a group of susceptible looking children - but the response was panic. Shrieking, crying, needing to be picked up and bundled away ... that's the toddlers, not me, although I may have jumped a little.
I then took part in a random downtown drum circle (this is why I like Perth) and visited a couple of art galleries.
I am delighted to report that I finally moved out: I'm now in a much nicer (although more expensive) hostel. It's small - there are maybe 30 people there at the moment as opposed to over a hundred - and clean, and they grow their own herbs and mushrooms and have recycling facilities! It's surprising how few hostels do this, considering the amount of bottles and cans travellers seem to go through.
And in other news, I'm joining the ASif! crowd in an exciting one-week-only project. In 2005, Sydney writer Ben Peek interviewed 43 people on his blog to create a snapshot of Australian Speculative Fiction. This week, a group of ASif! reviewers are updating this, blogging interviews which will also be archived on ASif! as we go.
You can see the results so far at:
http://random-alex.livejournal.com/
http://girliejones.livejournal.com/
http://kathrynlinge.livejournal.com/
http://kaaronwarren.livejournal.com/
http://cassiphone.livejournal.com/
I'm very excited to be in such great company!
Labels: art, ASif, Australia and Aussie customs, dinosaurs, hostels, reading
Monday, July 30, 2007
In which I am undaunted by sports.
It's been a weird weekend. On Friday, a challenging day in my new department (Accounts Payable, otherwise known as "the one where we send out money to pay for things we buy from other companies") we commenced with choc chip muffins ... just because. Then a former employee brought her new baby in to be cooed over while we crowded into the lunch room and shared a Nando's takeaway. At one point the pram caused a log-jam in between cubicles, causing one guy to ask, bewildered, "There's a queue to hold this kid?"
Then - and this is how I know I've Arrived - I was invited to end-of-the-month free drinks, or "Beers in the Boardroom", where I encountered the CEO. I'd never seen him before in my life and was on the verge of asking him what he did, when I realised how much louder he was than everyone else, and quickly bit my tongue. Only the mighty get to shout with joy and be applauded! A group of blokes were trying to think of the word "scanning," but couldn't, so - and I love when this happens - they expressed it with sign language which turned into an interpretive dance. Three were doing smooth arm-waving movements, while the other two, trying to comprehend, mimicked the arm waving with added flourishes. They looked like a camp forest of seagrass. I could just see them back in their clubbing days, "stacking boxes" to house music. Incidentally, the whole dance genre of music has a derogatory yet onomatopoeic Aussie name, "doof doof".
I also spoke to cute-guy-who-looks-like-Charlie-from-Numb3rs, whose name I forget.
Every lunchtime he and another IT guy run 7ks in preparation for the 12k charity walk we're all doing at the end of August. Well, they'll be running it, but I'll be walking: my only sport is belly dancing. He recalled a toe-curling occasion when he'd been in a restaurant with his parents and a belly dancer had made some suggestive moves on his father. I was momentarily silenced.
On Saturday I re-read Harry Potter 7 - I so want to write a review going into spoilers! and on Saturday night met up with my wonderful bubbly marine biologist friend Marjolein to go to FloorPlay, a dance extravaganza widely advertised on TV with the tagline "Burn The Floor!" The dancing was spectacular, and the costumes were just amazing (I want a dress entirely covered in sequins!) although I didn't think the series of black elastic straps actually did much for the woman who wore them instead of a dress.
Unfortunately, we were sitting in the balcony. We could see the stage just fine, but at the beginning an usher asked us not to stand up when we couldn't see the dancers, as this would interfere with the lighting. Well, this show has been at that theatre for at least a month, and frankly to have everyone disappear into the aisles - while a lot of fun for the audience in the stalls - is just poor staging! If you can't send a couple up to the balcony, at least leave someone on stage for us to look at! Otherwise, regardless of verbal warnings, people are going to stand up and crane over in an attempt to keep up.
Who goes to a show like this? Well, women are in the majority, although the chaps dragged along didn't seem too henpecked. We were in awe of the cougars, though - reeling ladies in their fifties, slamming back cocktails then backing young men into corners and attempting to rumba with them. Some of their outfits, like the head to toe red leather ensemble or the fishnet tights fluffy with ostrich feathers, were fantastically striking, as if the spirit of Isabella Blow had glided across Subiaco. As we left the theatre they prowled off in search of innocents leaving the bars. I hope that whe I'm in my 50s and 60s I'll still have that reckless sense of adventure!
On Sunday it was too rainy to watch Brendan's footy game, so I went for a wander to check out other Northbridge hostels. I got photos of those trees that have struck me for weeks now as being amazingly sculptural, and strolled like a true flaneur through Highgate and Mount Lawley. I saw coffee shops, bookshops, bakeries, and a shop selling "everything you want - nothing you need," exemplified by the colossal birdbath, over a metre across, on its front lawn. I also witnessed a drunken argument with incoherent shouting followed by a man striking a woman down. It was sickening. The police were already crossing the street so I guess the dispute must have been going on for some time, but I didn't expect to step out of the dreamy suspended-time atmosphere of a second-hand bookshop and suddenly be back in that world of violence and drunken rage again.
Perth is generally one of the safest cities - certainly nothing compared to Alice Springs - but like any city there are a few drunken characters I'd rather cross the road to avoid a discussion with than walk past.
I have two links for you. Here is a great account by literary critic Michael Berube of how his son, who has Down's syndrome, learned to follow a story's narrative through reading the Harry Potter books. And this is a parody round-up of "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" - containing ALL THE SPOILERS - but if you want to laugh till you spray tea across your computer screen, and you've already finished the book, you may check it out. You may wish to keep a tea towel handy.
Then - and this is how I know I've Arrived - I was invited to end-of-the-month free drinks, or "Beers in the Boardroom", where I encountered the CEO. I'd never seen him before in my life and was on the verge of asking him what he did, when I realised how much louder he was than everyone else, and quickly bit my tongue. Only the mighty get to shout with joy and be applauded! A group of blokes were trying to think of the word "scanning," but couldn't, so - and I love when this happens - they expressed it with sign language which turned into an interpretive dance. Three were doing smooth arm-waving movements, while the other two, trying to comprehend, mimicked the arm waving with added flourishes. They looked like a camp forest of seagrass. I could just see them back in their clubbing days, "stacking boxes" to house music. Incidentally, the whole dance genre of music has a derogatory yet onomatopoeic Aussie name, "doof doof".
I also spoke to cute-guy-who-looks-like-Charlie-from-Numb3rs, whose name I forget.
Every lunchtime he and another IT guy run 7ks in preparation for the 12k charity walk we're all doing at the end of August. Well, they'll be running it, but I'll be walking: my only sport is belly dancing. He recalled a toe-curling occasion when he'd been in a restaurant with his parents and a belly dancer had made some suggestive moves on his father. I was momentarily silenced.
On Saturday I re-read Harry Potter 7 - I so want to write a review going into spoilers! and on Saturday night met up with my wonderful bubbly marine biologist friend Marjolein to go to FloorPlay, a dance extravaganza widely advertised on TV with the tagline "Burn The Floor!" The dancing was spectacular, and the costumes were just amazing (I want a dress entirely covered in sequins!) although I didn't think the series of black elastic straps actually did much for the woman who wore them instead of a dress.
Unfortunately, we were sitting in the balcony. We could see the stage just fine, but at the beginning an usher asked us not to stand up when we couldn't see the dancers, as this would interfere with the lighting. Well, this show has been at that theatre for at least a month, and frankly to have everyone disappear into the aisles - while a lot of fun for the audience in the stalls - is just poor staging! If you can't send a couple up to the balcony, at least leave someone on stage for us to look at! Otherwise, regardless of verbal warnings, people are going to stand up and crane over in an attempt to keep up.
Who goes to a show like this? Well, women are in the majority, although the chaps dragged along didn't seem too henpecked. We were in awe of the cougars, though - reeling ladies in their fifties, slamming back cocktails then backing young men into corners and attempting to rumba with them. Some of their outfits, like the head to toe red leather ensemble or the fishnet tights fluffy with ostrich feathers, were fantastically striking, as if the spirit of Isabella Blow had glided across Subiaco. As we left the theatre they prowled off in search of innocents leaving the bars. I hope that whe I'm in my 50s and 60s I'll still have that reckless sense of adventure!
On Sunday it was too rainy to watch Brendan's footy game, so I went for a wander to check out other Northbridge hostels. I got photos of those trees that have struck me for weeks now as being amazingly sculptural, and strolled like a true flaneur through Highgate and Mount Lawley. I saw coffee shops, bookshops, bakeries, and a shop selling "everything you want - nothing you need," exemplified by the colossal birdbath, over a metre across, on its front lawn. I also witnessed a drunken argument with incoherent shouting followed by a man striking a woman down. It was sickening. The police were already crossing the street so I guess the dispute must have been going on for some time, but I didn't expect to step out of the dreamy suspended-time atmosphere of a second-hand bookshop and suddenly be back in that world of violence and drunken rage again.
Perth is generally one of the safest cities - certainly nothing compared to Alice Springs - but like any city there are a few drunken characters I'd rather cross the road to avoid a discussion with than walk past.
I have two links for you. Here is a great account by literary critic Michael Berube of how his son, who has Down's syndrome, learned to follow a story's narrative through reading the Harry Potter books. And this is a parody round-up of "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" - containing ALL THE SPOILERS - but if you want to laugh till you spray tea across your computer screen, and you've already finished the book, you may check it out. You may wish to keep a tea towel handy.
Labels: Australia and Aussie customs, conflict resolution, dancing, friends, grand plans, Harry Potter, hostels, the flaneur explores a new place
Friday, November 24, 2006
Hopeful in Adelaide
I'm job-hunting again. Have sent my CV out to goodness knows how many people, now waiting to hear back from them....
I'm staying in a lovely, lovely backpacker's hostel called Annie's Place - the nicest of the 4 I've tried in jacaranda-festooned Adelaide so far. Meeting very interesting people (including the Midnight Farter) and making friends. It's good to have a nice group of people welcome you home every evening and ask how the day's gone.
I have plans to expand this blog as well, and introduce some of the people I'm meeting - also to share stories about what I've been up to for the last few months since leaving Melbourne. Watch this space!
Labels: Adelaide, grand plans, hostels
