Saturday, March 29, 2008

Celeb pregnancy: what a crock

Just stumbled across these pics of the royally up-the-duff Gwen Stefani apparently en route to/from a doctors appointment.

How is this possible? How can one look stylish on the way to have the doctor poke around their nether-regions? This is not fair! "NOT FAIR!" I tell you. Especially when considering that on my own prenatal journey to make friends with the urine cup my mugshot was this:


Damn you Gwen Stefani. Damn you to hell.

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Comedy: Which Path?

I have nothing particularly original, insightful or otherwise to contribute today. Thus, allow me to direct your attention elsewhere. Look, a gyrating chimp!

Haha, got ya.

Firstly, came across this interesting blog entry about where to focus your energies in the pursuit of a comedy career. Dan Rock, who I recently had the wonderful experience of touring with, alluded to much the same thing, actually his exact advice to me was to take my focus off the stand-up circuit and instead just put together a butt-kicking theatrical piece to take to festivals and *gulp* Broadway. I feel nauseous even typing that. But there you have it.

Secondly, for some reason this week's column is not online yet - I've no idea why - but it's actually one of the favourite ones I've written thus far, so I'm gonna just cut and paste it here directly.

There you have it. Again.

xx

***

Excuse me if this week’s column is a little – uh…zany. I’ve been sent mildly insane by a 2-day comedy tour of Saskatchewan. While I had been warned, nothing – NOTHING, I tell you! – could prepare me for the nuttiness of driving through exactly the same view for twenty hours of my weekend. At times I was even driven to wiggling my index finger in front of my eye, purely for stimulation. It is sore.

Anyhow, as promised, this week’s summation of events is NOT about Saskatchewan (“Thank the heavens above!” I hear you cry) but rather about my first foray into the incredible world of cross-country skiing.

Distracted by the wonders of snowboarding, we’d thus far neglected the good old fashioned ‘strap-em-on and shuffle’ style of snowsports – forgive me if that’s sacrilege by the way, it’s purely my Aussie-fied perception of the thing – but, motivated by the increasingly depleting snow supply, we decided that we couldn’t let the spring officially come on until we’d at least given it a go.

The day arrived.

“Come on!” I called eagerly to Miss Five and Mister Three. “Cross-country skiing! It’s going to be so much fun! On with the snowpants!”

Now, as those of you who read this column regularly will know, my son and I are engaged in an ongoing battle over his Rainman-like obsession with wearing shorts in ridiculously inappropriate weather. A battle in which I have long ago conceded defeat. Except, however, when snowsports are concerned, wherein I tear my white flag to shreds, leap on him like a just-woken-from-hibernation snow leopard and force the damn attire on his unwilling bod.

This time however, my little man decided to be even more stubborn than usual, donning blue and white makeup and shouting “She can take my shorts, but she’ll never take my FREEDOM!”

It was bloody. It was violent. Forty minutes later as we strapped our screaming – yet snow-panted – little warrior into our Volkswagen torture chamber, I sighed to hubby. “We haven’t even left the house and I hate cross country skiing already.”

Later at the Nordic Centre, the dude was finally distracted from his epic tantrum by the excitement of being fitted for his ski gear. As the four of us – hubby, myself, Little Miss and Little Devil Spawn – headed out to take on the not-so-slopey slopes, I smiled. This wasn’t a mistake. We were here!

I looked out at the people before me – expert cross country skiers, some of them apparently pros, gliding across the snow with the grace of gazelles dancing to Tchaikovsky. It was then that it struck me: here were these sleek, beautiful people in their sleek, beautiful suits, skiing with their sleek, beautiful rhythms and then: there was us. Me in my fluoro pink jacket and ill-fitting snowpants, hubby in his maroon 1980’s one-piece snowsuit, shuffling our way and awkwardly pushing our what-are-they-called- oh yeah, poles, that’s them.

I suddenly felt like I’d wandered onto a National Ballet production of Swan Lake and started busting out the Robot. Really, REALLY badly.

We shuffled along. Mister Three decided that two metres was about the limit of his exertion point, plonked himself down and started making snow angels. Face down.

Meanwhile, I pretended I didn’t notice this and left hubby to deal with the fall-out while leading Little Miss Five back and forth along the same strip of snow again and again and again.

Around 42 minutes later, my two men had moved a grand total of three metres. They finally resigned for the day and hit the lodge for a snack.

After a few laps of feeling like we were getting the hang of it – at least looking less like a legless walrus jutting along a glacier and more like a limping penguin with poles-in-hand – Little Miss led me back to the lodge to join our men. We’d done it! We’d endured the dressing, the tantrums and the learning curve and had conquered cross-country skiing!

It was then that I discovered what my son had been apparently plotting all afternoon: his revenge came in the form of him sitting triumphantly, smack bang in the middle of the highly public lodge table with his snowpants smushed into the corner of the room – resplendent in his Spiderman underpants. And nothing else.

I froze. I grimaced. I denied I knew him.

And I swear that somewhere on the breeze I could hear the faint sound of the Braveheart theme.

Saturday, March 22, 2008

Rejection and disjointed ramblings

So...I finally got an email back from LA Comedy Festival and da-da-da-da! Rejection. Dangedy dang dang. Sometimes I feel so frustrated with myself for letting stuff like that get me down even when I've had so many awesome things happen lately. But I guess that is the nature of this beast. You put yourself out there - you're gonna get rejected.

Sigh.

In other news, we cross-country skiied SIX KILOMETRES today. That's right. Most of which was uphill. Three kilometres of which I dragged behind my little skiing buttocks a sled full of not one, but two children. Then upon arriving home, I promptly collapsed into a slumber of Sleeping Beauty proportions for two and a half hours.

Also this week, Ella lost another tooth and learned to ride a bike without training wheels. Damn childhood goes by past. Tim has already started googling 'constructing chastity belts.'

What an incredibly disorganised blog entry. I'm tempted to edit but...nah. There's the latest episode of Lost to catch up on. Ciao!

Thursday, March 20, 2008

A shameless plug (but not for me!)

Attention all Melbournians! (The rest of you, please carry on with whatever cream-cheese involved shenanigans you're hustling.)

At the risk of seeming pushy, go see Mandy Nolan's show at Melbourne Comedy Festival!! She's a mama after my own heart, a truly fantastic performer and somebody who always makes me laugh out loud, even when I've seen her act before (that really is a compliment.) She is an absolute cracker and I'm not just saying that because I enjoy her with pate. She's seriously fantastic, I heart her, I admire her, I want to have her comedic babies and I would but between us mama comics we've already got our uterus' full.

So....having said all that, phew. Here are the details:

The Show: "She'll be Right"

Where: The Forum

When: Thursday March 20 til 1st April. 7.15pm every night (except Sunday shows are at 6.15pm and no shows Monday. Or Thurs 27th. Got it?)

Bookings: Ticketek: 132849

Promise you will? Really really promise? Alright then. We're all happy.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

RIP Anthony Minghella

This afternoon, post-grocery shop and feeling rather satisfied with myself, I hear the news and find that I'm genuinely saddened (as opposed to tears of the crocodile variety I suppose) to hear of the sudden passing of the truly excellent Anthony Minghella.

Amongst many other gems, I'll remember him best for directing one of my all-time favourite films Truly Madly Deeply (as I recall, I pretty much cried solidly from one minute in until the end of the damn thing) - what an incredibly truthful, charming and original foray into the nature of grief that was.

Thanks man.

RIP.

Monday, March 17, 2008

The Saskatchewan Tour: a photoshoppy debrief

Driving through Saskatchewan is certainly an experience. A rocking experience. If, by 'rocking', you mean staring at this for twelve hours straight:


Minus the pink writing. Yes, that's right. One long un-bending road and an infinite supply of wheat fields. Titillating.

Then of course there are the en-route diners with their matter-of-fact service standards.


Then there are the pleasant surprises: Saskatoon was very quaint and picturesque, I dug it and upon arrival, took myself on a little getting-to-know-you / reintroducing my legs to circulation type walk.


It was pleasant. Backed by the ego trip of finally seeing your name up in - well, not so much lights as big black letters - for the first time.


Then of course, there's the ridiculous buzz of adrenaline pumping and whatever the rocket fuel Red Bull equivalent is that you ingest JUST before a gig, only to have it backfire when you cannot get to sleep til 2 in the morning, despite knowing that you have to rise in only a few hours to head back home again.


But then, oh yes then...there is the elation and returning to the excited fam, and of course the sleep deprived delerium that leads to a compulsion to stuff around with photoshop so you can blog about it.

Weird Stuff.

Sunday, March 16, 2008

Quick cyber-postcard from the road

Hey dudes!

I'm in Saskatchewan doing my first tour as a headliner! BTW, Saskatchewan is the big state right next door to Alberta which is filled with pretty much fifty million hectares of wheat fields - I realised how understimulated I was on the drive when I started staring at clouds and going "Wow. Stuff to look at."

Anyhoo, after the ridiculous 9 hour drive from my hometown (I haven't risen before 5am since the kids were bubbas) I was pretty trashed but it was so fun. The crowd in Saskatoon was definitely one of the most incredibly up-for-it and eager-to-be-pleased bunch I've EVER encountered. There were even festoon lights in the room, how cool is that? This is only my second tour here admittedly, but I must admit the novelty doesn't seem to be wearing off anytime soon. I actually really dig living out of a suitcase and exploring hotels and new towns and stuff. Next month looks like I'll be up at Edmonton - the hubbster and kidlets will be along for that one - so yay.

I wish I had something more eloquent to write to update this, however I'm in my hotel lobby now in Regina before we gig tonight - the sign next to me to 'please govern your time accordingly' so consider my brief update me simply governing my butt.

Wish you were here!

xx

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Do I not rock completely?


That question was rhetorical, by the way.

Sunday, March 09, 2008

All hail Stuart McLean

Last night Tim and I had the very good fortune of being dragged along by my lovely newfound friend and co-preschool Mama Sabina and her hubby Graham, to see Stuart McLean live at the Banff Centre.

Now all I knew about Stuart prior to this was that:

- he was a storyteller. What kind of storyteller, I didn't really know, other than that from what I'd read, his shows encompassed music, comedy and good old-fashioned, well...storytelling.

- he had a radio show that was rather popular. (I later was told that his radio show The Vinyl Cafe - of which this show was pretty much just a live version - attracts over 700,000 listeners every single WEEK.)

And now I know why.

Wow, oh wow. To say I was 'blown away' would just be too easy. But I'm tired. So there you have it. I was blown away. Just to see somebody telling stories - with funny parts, to be sure, some of them inspiring tears of laughter, but by no means punchline after punchline - and able to weave their spell over the audience such that they are hanging on the teller's every word, was an incredible thing to be part of.

And the musicians - guests of his, as would be the case on his radio show no doubt - were incredible to boot. The whole evening just really opened my mind up to what live performance can really be.

Plus I've decided that what I really admire - besides his natural charm, relaxed way with a massive crowd and apparent genuine love of live performance - is Stuart's evident commitment to sharing his profile to benefit up-and-coming artists. I've been told that thanks to him giving unknown talents a shot on his shows, tours, and so on, they have gone on to massive things shortly thereafter. Talk about sharing the love around!

On another note, it is my hubby's b'day today - he had a very suitably spoiled day, capped off with a CHESS BOARD BIRTHDAY CAKE. I'll post a pic soon. I didn't even get it out of a magazine but designed it and whipped it up all on my own! (those long-term readers of you out there will appreciate why, given my track record in disastrous b'day cakes, this is a big deal for me). Yes, yes. I know. Landmarks all round.

Friday, March 07, 2008

Hello Blog? It's me, Jenny.

By Jove (I love that phrase) it's been a while between blogs! This time however, I have an actual excuse, namely that we've been moving house. Ergh. Luckily the ordeal was again, grist for the mill.

But yes, we've moved and there are good things in the air!

For one, the new house rocks. So much space. An awesome yard, which - we only discovered upon moving here as I hadn't even laid eyes on it til moving day and Tim hadn't paid much attention when he checked it out - comes complete with a cubby house and slippery slide. And a little fire holding thing to toast marshmallows on. And as Nemo's Mum said just before she became fish-food herself: "The neighbourhood is awesome." Kids everywhere, we've been here four days and already our doorbell has rung with play-date requests more than it did the entire six months at our previously rocking - yet relatively child-free - abode.

So that rocks. Plus we've found a rocking chick (am I using the word 'rock' too much? Nah, it can't be possible) who is keen to move into the basement suite downstairs for cheap rent in return for helping us out a bit with child-minding. Which we DESPERATELY need. That is just the fudge icing on top of the Devil's Food Cake. (Sorry, I've got my mind on my hubby's upcoming birthday festivities...back on track.)

Plus I'm going on tour again next weekend - just 2 nights this time and it's gonna be a little less glamorous (or so I've been led to believe) than my last jaunt, as this time we're heading to Saskatchewan. All I know about Saskatchewan is that the highway I'll be on is so straight that people often resort to driving in the wrong lane just for stimulation, and from what I've seen on Corner Gas.

Then, just to add the cherry on top of the sundae, my sister calls me today.

Me (knowing she's been trying to call for days without success thanks to our screwed up phone line): "So what's the rush, are you up the duff?"

Her: "No! But guess what? I'm coming to Canada. In three weeks!"

Me: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHH!!!!!!" (the good kind.)

So yes, thanks to her shining loveliness as a travel agent, she has apparently won a touring trip to Canada to check it all out. She'll only be in our neck of the woods for a day and a half, but, in the (mildly paraphrased) words of Sarah Connor: "We'll love a lifetime's worth." Translation = I'm planning to exist on no sleep for that entire period.

Yes, yes, the answer is yes. I really am that hardcore.

Saturday, March 01, 2008

Improv on 4ZZZ!

I'm rethinking this whole blog thing at the mo, not in an I'm not doing it anymore so nah-ni-nah-ni-nah-nah way, but in a Hmmm...I wonder what other things I could put on here instead of just written thought-spillage kinda way.

Anyhoo, as serendipity would have it, Brad from Edge Improv has just this very day put up a podcast of one of our old improv segments from back in the old Aussie days (they seem so far away now...sniff!) on 4ZZZ. It's a funny thing about improv, once you've done it, more often than not the little nugget - or turd - you created on the spot just flies straight out of your head and shuts the door of your memory, never to be thought of again. Having it recorded and then listening back is kinda surreal, in a 'Memento' kinda way. Point is, I honestly can't even remember us doing this one - but it sounds like we were having fun. Which is, I believe, the idea.

It's online here if you care to partake.

If not, no worries.

(But 'Nah-ni-nah-ni-nah-nah!')