My friend? My friend!

Dear roseanne,

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Thanks, again!

Your friend,
Ira Glass

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Dear Ira and crew,

No, thank you.

Thank you for making me fall in love all over again with the simple art of a good story. You manage to do it several times every week and make it look effortless. I know it isn't, and I know you work really hard. I am humbled, honoured and amazed that something this good could actually be free.

Thank you for making me believe in humanity again. And love. And life. The gentle spirit with which you extract people's words serves as the perfect counterbalance to the meanness I see inherent in most of the media I consume. And it's not just that. It's the humour with which you do it. It's wicked, sometimes, but it's never done with spite. I'm not sure how you pull it off.

No thanks to you for the increasing number of conversations where I will go "Oh that's exactly like this episode of This American Life when...", swiftly followed by "Oh, it's an amazing radio documentary series, not really just about American stuff, I mean it could just as easily be called 'This Life'... oh, you don't listen to the radio? Well, it's free on ... OK, see you/[get interrupted]/[person looks interested but it's clear they are just being polite]".

In this season where there is so much to be thankful for, a nice radio documentary series seems like an odd thing to put on the list. Somehow though, this radio documentary series and everything it stands for sums up the festive, complicated feelings I have at this time of year, and so it seems apt.

So thank you, thank you. Sorry for the schmaltz, but thank you.

from a happy listener.

---

breakfast:
a swig of Royal Crown Draft Cola, some cherries and a bierstick.

verdict:
not good. I was stressed.

should a punch as part of good wife-ly correction be a criminal offence?*

I was feeling horrible after The Chaser last night. I was so sick of seeing brutality against women. I mean, that's not what the film was about, but it was a theme that was there, and that really bothered me and seemed to be appearing everywhere. I saw Firaaq earlier in the week and I was trying to understand how wartime atrocities always involved a sort of default of rape and what Jane Campion said about how women gave birth to the whole world, and what hope any civilisation has that treats women this way.

I was suddenly so grateful for Stephen, and this society where I could expect nothing less than an equal relationship - no, maybe not even equal, because I feel cherished, and loved. I feel like a queen, and I have no reason to believe that every woman in this society can't enjoy the same thing. I will never again take for granted this time and place where men who change nappies are simply normal, where I can say and feel and think what I want, where my husband is my best friend, and to have that relationship with him be so expected that it's boring to even talk about it.

And the reason I'm feeling so loved up right now is because I just saw Adventureland in the best seat (middle, back row all to myself) at the Civic, and even though it's a fairly predictable romantic comedy, it was perfectly rendered, and totally what I needed. I walked out in a simpery haze, I even gave the busker another dollar (I'd given him a dollar on the way in) and smiled at strangers. It seemed good and right for the film festival to fix the funk that the film festival had caused - and thus, balance was restored.

breakfast: no breakfast, just lunch at the new cafe under Stephen's office. The chicken and mushroom pie tasted great, though I attribute a lot of that to the company.

*the referendum is stupid, yes. Stephen's take on the ridiculousness of it all...

stocktake 2009

The word for this year's stocktake is: content. Or in 18 words: content happy where I want to be challenges ahead hardships ahead but what is life without these things?

It's pretty boring but I think it's true.
Physically, I'm where I always thought I would be at this age.
Financially, we're doing better than I thought we would be.
Career-wise I could be doing more, but at the same time it continues to be fulfilling. I realise it's a luxury to be doing passion projects, even though they may be moving along slowly.
Family and friend-wise, I think I'm blessed. I feel connected, supported, loved. This could have something to do with moving closer to town!

It could be hormonal, but right now, today at least, I'm remarkably mellow and content, and I think that's a wonderful thing to be on a birthday. Maybe it's the birthday that causes such contentment, because when I look back at past stocktakes, I feel like I'm repeating myself. Maybe it's a self-fulfilling prophecy. Whatever it is, this stocktake, this moment, is another keeper.

A friend who was into astrology told me earlier this week that my saturn was rising, and I didn't quite get it, but apparently every 28 years (give or take a few years) in a person's life, there will be a big shift, a change, something involving life and/or death. I got a little shiver, because he was right - big things are afoot for me, and I feel on the edge of some great happening. It's not a precipice, it's not necessarily threatening or scary, nor is it completely exciting and wonderful. It's all these things and it's such a strange feeling because it is inevitable. This is big picture stuff. This is life. I'm alive, and I think I feel more alive now than I have for a little while.

Another year older, another year on this incredible mortal coil. I'm not a religious gal, but amen to that.

breakfast:
BBQ duck congee from Love-a-Duck

verdict:
mm comfort food.

Hmm - overdue for a musing. Once I get here I never know what to write though, so this time I'm going to list something easy and utterly mundane over the course of the day, but which will probably be interesting to me (and noone else) in a few years time: what I ate and drank today in boring detail!

1100 - banana and Milo

Just waiting for feedback on the draft (after 3 months of a horrible writing and procrastination spiral - I am finding new and dastardly ways to distract myself) and visited Neil Gaiman's blog for the first time in a while - have decided that the word of the day is peregrination - as in, 'with the inclement weather, peregrinations to the shops are not advised'. It just sounds cool!

1420 - rice and night flower soup - the night flowers came from my Dad's plant, and when there wasn't any chicken or chicken stock in the house, I went out to the local Chinese noodle place and tried to get just plain chicken soup/broth, and after a lot of "no I don't want any corn in it, or egg, or veges, or other meat, I just want the chicken soup", they gave me some but had put cornstarch or something in to thicken it (sigh). How hard is it for a girl to just get a nice clear broth around here? Anyway. Diluting the soup 1: 1.5 parts of water, bringing to the boil, then adding 2 night flowers chopped up and bringing that to the boil.. ahh. Yum.
1 peacharine
1 white flesh nectarine
1 mini moro gold
handful of roasted caramelized almonds
water and ice with Barkers Blackcurrant syrup

a strawberry Freddo (not sure when I ate this - I just saw the wrapper in my bin)

Can I bring myself to watch Kevin Smith's latest film Zac and Miri make a Porno? Seth Rogen is still sort of OK, but I'm getting sick of the Apatow schtick, even if it is done well (and it's increasingly less, of late). If this is Kevin Smith's way of saying 'Well I did it first', then I'm not interested. I just can't get over how shit Clerks 2 was. The Onion AV Club seemed to think Porno was alright but... there's something in me that's leaning toward mainstream fare like Marley and Me, or even the reportedly horrible he's Just not that into you. I'm not really into dogs though. Well, I'm not against dogs, but I'm into cats more. Choices, choices. Maybe I should see the Chinese film on offer, even if it does look cheesy. Watchmen looks like a big style wank off. I am extremely skeptical, even though there's no question about whether I'm going or not.

Amazing how easy it is to burble on about nothing when I haven't sat down to blog about something 'specific'.

1900(ish) - taro and sago pudding from Grand Park - had a massive craving for this pudding, and only Grand Park does it like this. Had to sit in my sandals, shorts and tshirt as a big crowd of Chinese wedding guests filed past and stared at me while I waited for it to be ready, but oh well - it was worth it.
also some of my Dad's beef broth with a spoonful of rice thrown in. Ginger-licious!

2115 already and I haven't had a proper meal - pudding first might have been a mistake.
Just had a small glass of milk

2230 made more flower soup with what was left of the beef broth. Threw some rice in. Yum. Probably a bit late to eat but oh well.

Ended up watching my newly acquired DVD of Dr Horrible's Singalong Blog... ah, bliss.

pointless conversation of the day

(the phone rings)

me: Hello?

bored sounding dude: Hello, how are you? Is the owner of the phone account there?

m: um... what is this about?

bsd: is the owner of the phone account there?

m: sorry... what's this about?

bsd: this is about saving money on your phone bill.

m: Um... sorry, yeah, not we're not interested.

bsd: so... is the owner of the phone account there?

m: ummm.... no.

bsd: OK, well I'll call back later then.

m: Yeah, but -

(dude hangs up)



breakfast: 2 x NZ apricot and 5 x gingerbread biscuit.
verdict: OK, so it wasn't very nutritious, but it's all I felt like on the run...

four exercises in surreality

---
The other night, at about 4am, Stephen sits up in the dark, bolt upright. In a loud voice:

S: you're going to snap them!
R: What?
S: You're going to snap them.
R: (shakes his shoulder) Um, I think you should wake up now.
S: Hum. (lies down and turns over).
R: what did you think was going to snap?
S: (snuffle).. fishing rods.
R: what?
S: shut up.

We'd just watched Man VS Wild on TV where this otherwise preppy English dude was surviving with nothing but a knife and a pot in remote jungle by the Amazon. Stephen was amazed by the way this guy fashioned a decent bow and arrow with the knife and killed some piranhas for food. I thought it was great he was having dreams about this now.

Come 6am, when the alarm goes off:

S: (snuffle)
R: hee hee, "you're going to snap them!". Do you remember?
S: shut up.

---

This morning, driving to work, three geese run onto the road just as I am approaching and stretch out their wings at me, like people would run out and hold out their arms to say "STOP!". I managed to brake in time and move slowly past, but something about the looks on their faces made me wonder if this was some kind of early morning goose game they were playing.

---

I got a call from an AD on a film set that a world famous actor (who I don't know at all) wanted to ask me something, and was it OK if she gave him my number. I'm still waiting for the call.

---

Remember the 'timely' audition I mentioned last post, the 'non commercial' one? This was the opening conversation:

A: Hello Roseanne, how are you?
R: Hello, fine thanks.
A: Roseanne is a filmmaker. I loved your film by the way. Take 3.
R: Yes. How ironic is this? (I look down at my schoolgirl outfit)
A: Ahahaha. Ha.

What proceeded to transpire was the single most embarrassing audition I have EVER had the misfortune to remember. I had to learn a song, and like a muppet, I copied and changed some stupid dance choreography I had gleaned off the internet to do with it. If ever there was proof of some kind of cosmic justice - ostensibly for making a film about Chinese actresses who through some kind of internal masochism subject themselves to denigrating auditions - then this was it. I didn't get the part (duh), and now I get frequent and horrible flashbacks whereupon I will suddenly punch the steering wheel or slap my forehead on the nearest wall in a desperate attempt to forget.

Why, why, why?

---

Breakfast:
leftover rice, courgettes and chicken
verdicts:
mm. nice simple ricey leftovers. No fuss.

procrastination report 3

I was reading Louis Theroux's book Call of the Weird where he followed up on some of the strange people he followed in his Weird Weekends TV series, and there was a section on a kooky ass hypnotist turned life coach who charged gullible losers thousands to 'teach' them to turn their lives around. This guy was called Marshall Sylver, and I'd never heard of him. He seemed like a bit of a dick. Then, when I was tidying Stephen's room, I found a plastic bag full of old cassette tapes - 6 of which were Marshall Sylver tapes on achieving Passion and Power. I glanced at one momentarily - it was about achieving passionate relationships. I mean - I couldn't believe it. Talk about synchronicity.

I didn't really have anything planned for the rest of the year - I'd hoped to get as much writing done as possible, and I was sort of... floating. I was feeling a little lost, but then I was about to start up a couple of spec projects - a personal thing, and a new feature idea - when these phone calls just sort of came along. I was feeling guilty about not pulling my weight financially - then a few freelance edit jobs came along. I was a little despondent about the lack of auditions - then an audition came along, and not a crappy commercial one that I knew I had no chance of getting. I've got a couple of other things that I really have my fingers crossed for, but... it feels like the universe is sort of, well, looking out for me and if things don't really go my way on the surface, then there is a reason for it. Sometimes you just have to sort of go with the flow - I mean, without being lazy about it - but I guess the best sort of journey down a river is a mixture of paddling and just sitting.

I've had a lot of my own company this week, but I don't think I've been lonely. There's been quite a lot of sentimental time - in the spare time between appointments, I've been tidying my childhood bedroom that I haven't slept in since I was 15, and a lot of the stuff hasn't been touched since then. Cinema is great at crystallising a feeling, but I don't think a film could really do the 'tidying childhood room'- feeling justice. It's not just a sentimental mood - it's the time and the minutiae. The layers of history, trying to remember every little piece of rubbish which turns out to be an old treasure - a plastic brooch, a special roll of stickers. It's like an archaeological dig of my life - I'm finding thing after little thing, the old neural pathways fire up, and I'm suddenly reminded of things I haven't thought about for over 2 decades. And then suddenly I've been sitting there for hours on end and I'm late for that thing and I have to rush off. I could probably sit there for days. It's a solitary exercise best done by oneself. I make out like it's a bit of chore, but I think I love it.

I had a vivid dream a couple nights ago about driving down a new stretch of wide wide motorway. It was night, but when I reached this stretch of motorway, it was lit up as bright as day. It was lit up so brightly, and the lights seemed so much like the sun that I had to brake in astonishment. It was weird because later, I thought that it might have actually happened - like I discovered that new stretch of motorway from Westgate to the North Shore, and I think the dream sort of looked like that. I'm not sure why this dream sticks in my mind so much, but it has, so I just thought I would mention it.

breakfast:
Milo and the last of S's birthday waffles.

verdict:
We'd bought some Chinese Milo while in the Xinjiang province, and we didn't end up opening it until now. Alas I'm not used to Chinese Milo which is quite different to NZ Milo so I had to throw it all out. Frozen waffles usually toast pretty well, and we had a surplus of about 5 waffles which I've been working slowly through the last couple months, but this last one was a bit off. I mean, I ate it, but I left the last section because I'd had enough. I cooked myself a nice lunch not long after brekka.