There's a bit of contention over who actually even runs the Inaugral Qld Comedy Awards, but of course, all the comics in Brissie (including myself) are willing to overlook this in the chance that it is actually legit.
Anyway, the point is I'm nominated for Best Musical Act. So if you're at all voting inclined, feel free to vote for me by clicking here and sending them a message spouting your eternal love for all things Jen or whatever method of voting poetry floats your boat.
And if you're not voting inclined, that's cool too. After all, I'm crowned the 'Person Most Likely to Forget Your Birthday', a title which I never even needed to be voted into.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
The Angelina Child Carrier
The ultimate yummy mummy just got...well, mummier, and I can't help but share this awesome invention from Gallery of the Absurd.
Damn I want one. All I'd add are some tubes that feed directly into the little blighters mouths plus some going in the other direction towards little bed pans, so you wouldn't even have to stop for fluids going in either direction.
Now that's efficiency.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
You've lost that blogging feeling...
Stop the serenading now, please...I get it.
I suck. I'm terrible. You've all been tearing your hair out, jumping up and down and hosing down your bedroom walls with tomato sauce purely to spite me. Why, oh why, have I left it this long between blogs?
Well, my dears, there is one main reason for the state of things this week (incidentally, the title of one of my all-time favourite songs):
1. We have been uprooted from our home for the past week, vacating it so that my brother's girlfriend Sammy could have her family stay for the week of festival-like celebrations that marked her 21st birthday. I could write a lot more about this, but won't.
This is my dilemma - I WANT to write so many things on this blog but then can't, cos I've learned the hard way that assuming the people you're writing about won't ever stumble across said entry in cyberspace is as stupid as assuming that leaving a bottle of shaving cream on the bathroom floor won't be discovered and subsequently played with gleefully by your resident small children. Not that I've done that. Moving on.
I'm seriously thinking about keeping this blog for the generic 'wacka wacka' type entries on life, pop culture and funny comedic anecdotes, and moving the more personal or specific things I wish to blog about elsewhere. Not that I need another commitment in my life, but I do need an outlet. I'll keep you posted - if you're keen, comment or e-mail me and I'll be sure to let you in on the new 'secret' blog. So long as you're not freaky.
I suck. I'm terrible. You've all been tearing your hair out, jumping up and down and hosing down your bedroom walls with tomato sauce purely to spite me. Why, oh why, have I left it this long between blogs?
Well, my dears, there is one main reason for the state of things this week (incidentally, the title of one of my all-time favourite songs):
1. We have been uprooted from our home for the past week, vacating it so that my brother's girlfriend Sammy could have her family stay for the week of festival-like celebrations that marked her 21st birthday. I could write a lot more about this, but won't.
This is my dilemma - I WANT to write so many things on this blog but then can't, cos I've learned the hard way that assuming the people you're writing about won't ever stumble across said entry in cyberspace is as stupid as assuming that leaving a bottle of shaving cream on the bathroom floor won't be discovered and subsequently played with gleefully by your resident small children. Not that I've done that. Moving on.
I'm seriously thinking about keeping this blog for the generic 'wacka wacka' type entries on life, pop culture and funny comedic anecdotes, and moving the more personal or specific things I wish to blog about elsewhere. Not that I need another commitment in my life, but I do need an outlet. I'll keep you posted - if you're keen, comment or e-mail me and I'll be sure to let you in on the new 'secret' blog. So long as you're not freaky.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
I've got those 'my-kid-takes-forever-on-the-toilet' blues
The other morning, I was completely pumped and ready to charge out the door on time. Miracle. Lunches packed, bags ready, everybody dressed and rearing to go. Victory was mine. Then...
Cay: "I need to go toilet."
Me: "No, no you don't. Not really. Just hold it. Like this, see?" (Picture me scrunching my face like a tissue. Or something).
Cay: "YES! I NEED go toilet!"
Me: "Nah...let's just wait..."
Cay: "TOILET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Me: "Okay. I surrender."
CUT TO:
35 minutes later, me now completely stressed and running late for my corporate character gig, Caleb's appetite for sitting on the toilet completely satiated (allow me to stress here that he does not suffer from constipation, just from an apparent obsession with taking his time with cleaning the pipes.)
Oh the humanity.
*Note 1: if you are at all grossed out by the contents within this blog, I do apologise. But then again, I feel all things considered, I was rather subtle. Ehem.
*Note 2: if Caleb, you are reading this in years to come and you are horrified at the notion of me publicising your bowel life on the internet, then I do apologise. But then again, you did far worse to me in childbirth so consider us even.
*Note 3: if anyone reading this has actual suggestions that may help, please comment away. Serious or otherwise.
That is all.
Cay: "I need to go toilet."
Me: "No, no you don't. Not really. Just hold it. Like this, see?" (Picture me scrunching my face like a tissue. Or something).
Cay: "YES! I NEED go toilet!"
Me: "Nah...let's just wait..."
Cay: "TOILET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Me: "Okay. I surrender."
CUT TO:
35 minutes later, me now completely stressed and running late for my corporate character gig, Caleb's appetite for sitting on the toilet completely satiated (allow me to stress here that he does not suffer from constipation, just from an apparent obsession with taking his time with cleaning the pipes.)
Oh the humanity.
*Note 1: if you are at all grossed out by the contents within this blog, I do apologise. But then again, I feel all things considered, I was rather subtle. Ehem.
*Note 2: if Caleb, you are reading this in years to come and you are horrified at the notion of me publicising your bowel life on the internet, then I do apologise. But then again, you did far worse to me in childbirth so consider us even.
*Note 3: if anyone reading this has actual suggestions that may help, please comment away. Serious or otherwise.
That is all.
Monday, March 05, 2007
The Comic Mummy Turns 1!!!!!!!
Damn, I missed my own birthday! Oh well...it's not like I've had a lack of celebrating round here lately. Take for instance, this weekend just gone. I don't mean to brag, but we had THE MOST FANTASTIC WEEKEND OF OUR ENTIRE LIVES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Okay, I'll stop yelling now. But it was JUST SO AMAZ....okay, sorry. I'm seriously done now.
You see, my lovely hubby Tim has recently reached some major milestones, in that:
- he's about to turn 30;
- we're about to have our 5-year wedding anniversary;
- after four years of being a full-time student (with two small kids in tow), he's graduated;
- he's finally getting some regular, well paid teaching work; and thus
- he's feeling like a successful breadwinner.
Not that I buy into that whole 'man must provide for his family' thing, but the fact is that Tim has a spring in his step these days that I haven't seen for ages. If ever. And it's so so wonderful, so to celebrate, I organised a weekend chockers with surprises (having the kids minded by his folks was the first one) including:
- a drive to the Coast and breakfast at the same beach cafe where we had our wedding reception;
- a day and a night at a tropical beach retreat which basically involved lazing by the pool, walking through the fruit orchard and turning ourselves into prunes in the spa;
- an hour-long massage in the middle of the rainforest;
- dinner at a gorgeous Nepalese place in Kingscliff;
- a Ricky Gervais stand-up DVD (and NOOOO, that wasn't just for me, thank you very much! Tim has actually been genuinely getting into his comedy lately. I swear. Especially when I chain him to the chair and threaten him with a spray-can of Ajax.)
- uninterrupted sleep!
- extraordinary home cooked breakfast in that while it was cooked at home, it wasn't cooked by either of us; and
- a day at Wet'n'Wild water park!!!!!
Now, I know this all sounds spoiled rotten, and I'd hate to sound like one of those people who's always like "Ooh, my marriage is just so terrific! We're just hap-hap-happy all the time!"
But the thing is, it's so nice to finally be having a great time in our marriage, because to tell you the complete and honest truth: last year sucked. Oh yeah, it was great from my POV on the career front, but my family life suffered big-time. I won't go into details, but the bottom line is that it was tough, sucked much more than I ever let on in any blog entries (though my nearest and dearest reckon they picked up on it anyway) but that we made a joint decision to just hang in there.
And now that we're finally out of the stress of full-time study and therefore full-time poverty while raising full-time tiny kiddies, and now into the new chapter of having more work, a little more money (while we're still by no means rich, we certainly feel like we are!) and having slightly bigger and thus more independent kiddies, I'm sure glad that we stuck with it.
Just the other day my friend and blog-reader Mezza said to me "Gees, I've noticed there have been a lot of gushy I-love-Tim blog entries lately!"
"Have there?" I said. "I feel like I hardly ever write about him."
"I've definitely noticed!" she said.
Is it really that obvious? Okay, I'll try to tone it down from now on.
Let's hear it for the b-
Okay sorry. Done now.
Okay, I'll stop yelling now. But it was JUST SO AMAZ....okay, sorry. I'm seriously done now.
You see, my lovely hubby Tim has recently reached some major milestones, in that:
- he's about to turn 30;
- we're about to have our 5-year wedding anniversary;
- after four years of being a full-time student (with two small kids in tow), he's graduated;
- he's finally getting some regular, well paid teaching work; and thus
- he's feeling like a successful breadwinner.
Not that I buy into that whole 'man must provide for his family' thing, but the fact is that Tim has a spring in his step these days that I haven't seen for ages. If ever. And it's so so wonderful, so to celebrate, I organised a weekend chockers with surprises (having the kids minded by his folks was the first one) including:
- a drive to the Coast and breakfast at the same beach cafe where we had our wedding reception;
- a day and a night at a tropical beach retreat which basically involved lazing by the pool, walking through the fruit orchard and turning ourselves into prunes in the spa;
- an hour-long massage in the middle of the rainforest;
- dinner at a gorgeous Nepalese place in Kingscliff;
- a Ricky Gervais stand-up DVD (and NOOOO, that wasn't just for me, thank you very much! Tim has actually been genuinely getting into his comedy lately. I swear. Especially when I chain him to the chair and threaten him with a spray-can of Ajax.)
- uninterrupted sleep!
- extraordinary home cooked breakfast in that while it was cooked at home, it wasn't cooked by either of us; and
- a day at Wet'n'Wild water park!!!!!
Now, I know this all sounds spoiled rotten, and I'd hate to sound like one of those people who's always like "Ooh, my marriage is just so terrific! We're just hap-hap-happy all the time!"
But the thing is, it's so nice to finally be having a great time in our marriage, because to tell you the complete and honest truth: last year sucked. Oh yeah, it was great from my POV on the career front, but my family life suffered big-time. I won't go into details, but the bottom line is that it was tough, sucked much more than I ever let on in any blog entries (though my nearest and dearest reckon they picked up on it anyway) but that we made a joint decision to just hang in there.
And now that we're finally out of the stress of full-time study and therefore full-time poverty while raising full-time tiny kiddies, and now into the new chapter of having more work, a little more money (while we're still by no means rich, we certainly feel like we are!) and having slightly bigger and thus more independent kiddies, I'm sure glad that we stuck with it.
Just the other day my friend and blog-reader Mezza said to me "Gees, I've noticed there have been a lot of gushy I-love-Tim blog entries lately!"
"Have there?" I said. "I feel like I hardly ever write about him."
"I've definitely noticed!" she said.
Is it really that obvious? Okay, I'll try to tone it down from now on.
Let's hear it for the b-
Okay sorry. Done now.
Thursday, March 01, 2007
The TV appearance I WON'T be plugging
Do you remember that episode of Sex in the City where Carrie is horrified to find herself on the cover of a major magazine sans make-up, sans stylish wardrobe and sans dignity?
Welcome to my morning.
Only, my fall from grace will not be broadcast in print, but on television: on a Channel 10 Kids Show, to be precise. Here's what happened:
- a friend of mine who works at the art gallery which cannot be named, asked me to bring my kids in this morning so that they could be the filmed talent for this kids show.
- I, of course, jumped at the chance to have an exciting activity with which to blackmail the kids into good behaviour.
- This plan, of course, backfired when the kids woke up at the crack of dawn this morning, BEGGING me to take them to the gallery right then and there.
- I, of course, proceeded to dress them up to the nines (by my standards, which is not saying much), and in the nagging rush out of the house, stepped out sans make-up, sans funky wardrobe, sans dignity. But no problem, right? They'd only be filming the kids, right?
WRONG.
My most exciting television appearance to date and I'm gonna look like a deshevelled homeless person who's got custody of the kids for the morning.
Why, God, WWWWWHHHHHHYYYYYY????????????????????!!!!!!!!!!!
Welcome to my morning.
Only, my fall from grace will not be broadcast in print, but on television: on a Channel 10 Kids Show, to be precise. Here's what happened:
- a friend of mine who works at the art gallery which cannot be named, asked me to bring my kids in this morning so that they could be the filmed talent for this kids show.
- I, of course, jumped at the chance to have an exciting activity with which to blackmail the kids into good behaviour.
- This plan, of course, backfired when the kids woke up at the crack of dawn this morning, BEGGING me to take them to the gallery right then and there.
- I, of course, proceeded to dress them up to the nines (by my standards, which is not saying much), and in the nagging rush out of the house, stepped out sans make-up, sans funky wardrobe, sans dignity. But no problem, right? They'd only be filming the kids, right?
WRONG.
My most exciting television appearance to date and I'm gonna look like a deshevelled homeless person who's got custody of the kids for the morning.
Why, God, WWWWWHHHHHHYYYYYY????????????????????!!!!!!!!!!!
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