Through to Qld Raw Finals!

"I'm so excited....da, da, da, da...and I just can't hide it....da, da, da, da...
Next Wednesday is the Raw Final and I think I like it....ooh, yeah!"

In fact, I'm almost as excited as when I first succeeded at putting Ella's hair in a mohawk.

See? Wasn't she cute and punky and chubby?

But I digress...oh yes, Raw! Boy oh boy is the line-up for next week amazing. A lot of the same faces from last year but with the difference of another year's worth of stage-time: it's going to be one hell of a night!

I'm so excited about doing my routine next week (in case you missed that point) It's a whole new set, Tim and I used our driving time to the semi-final to go through and refine it. I'm so lucky to have a hubby who's keen to help me in that way (as well as dozens of others) and really 'gets' how to edit stuff. Oh yeah, and he's hot. So I'm happy with my set, it runs 30 seconds under-time, which is awesome because while there's no minimum you need to be up there, if you go even 10 seconds over the 5 minute limit you get music-ed off.

Don't laugh, it happened to me last year. :-(

But most of all...I'm excited about my musical number! It's a new addition to my collection which may alone be the reason it's my favourite. I thought it could be a risk even to perform it at the semi-final, as the sensible thing to do would just be to perform the safe 'gold' as they say, that you've proven time and time again to work. But the thing is, I feel like I've lost a bit of the joy for some of my old stuff. I mean, it still works, but I just feel a bit bored with it, and I'd much rather take a risk and do something I can perform with passion and actually get excited about, than go through the motions. Anyway, the beautiful part of all this is that the risk paid off in the semis. One of the judges came up to me afterwards and said "I can't wait to come back next week just to see you do that song again!" (disclaimer: he won't be judging next week!) But it totally affirmed to me just to keep it as it is and take advantage of my infatuation with it.

Because, as a very wise man on the comedy scene said to me recently, "at any given competition you could have five different judges and five different winners, so there's really no point pinning all your hopes on it!" So I've decided to take that on board, throw caution to the wind and just focus on what I can control, which is having fun. In my eyes, the best, best, BEST part of a final is that the crowd is just awesome. It's almost always sold out, people want to support you and they want you to succeed. Bring it on!!!

Oh yeah, so if you're a friend of mine (and if you're reading this blog then, whether we've met or not, you ARE!) please do consider coming to the final and supporting my cause. You get judged on audience reaction so the more the merrier, though maybe we'll strategically place you around the room just so the raucous applause isn't coming from one suspicious corner.

Book here.

Introducing my new band...Jargon!

Do we rock or WOT?!!!!

BTW I promise I will let up on this whole rock-star posting thing soon.

By soon I mean 'as soon as I get it out of my system'.

I ain't making any promises.

Except for this one. Apparently.

Alarm clock for auction

Alarm clock.

In top condition.

Very regular - in fact, goes off each and every morning around 3am - without fail.

Excellent long-life batteries, ensuring at least forty minutes of good quality wakeup call before the volume shows any signs of fading.

Extremely irritating sound, designed to make sure that come hell or high-water, you will not sleep through it.

And what's more...there's NO SNOOZE BUTTON!

Hurry...only available to highest bidder- er, sorry, I meant good home.

If you were a rock band...

I'm completely besotted with the basic yet addictive photo-manipulation features on my basic yet addictive photo-manipulation program.

This is a pic of me and two of me favourite ladies from a recent wine-riddled night, and I can't help but think we should be mega-famous rockstars.

I've always loved coming up with band-names. Not that there's any chance of me ever using them, but if I did, here'd be the shortlist:

1. The Unadulerated Seatbelts (or: The US)
2. Zaploy (which is Russian for 'I drank so much vodka last night that I can't remember a thing)
3. Jen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance (my first ever blog title)
4. Johnny Depp's secret lover (my first ever fantasy...actually that one's never stopped)
5. Free Drinks (just cos it'd be a great marketing ploy)

So I'm opening it up to the floor, to my thousands upon millions of loyal blog readers (please, don't all post at once)...if you could name your band, what would be on your shortlist?

I never thought it would come to this

My greatest love affair is about to end.

And all because of a damn fundraising drive for my kids' day-care centre.

DAMN YOU CHOCOLATE!



I don't know why I agreed to taking the damn things in the first place. It's a heavy carton of 14 chocolate boxes, and bugger me if I'm going to cart them around with me in the car and try to offload them to every friend I visit. Why, oh why, am I not more assertive? Alas, alack, I think I'm just one of those people who cannot say n.... ehem, who cannot say n.... damn it!

So instead I am forced, FORCED, I tell you, to eat all the damn things myself. The Maltesers were first to go, then the M&Ms, and now I'm almost done with the celebration-size Mars Bars. Which makes me feel so much better, knowing that I can successfully ingest a kilo of chocolate 25g at a time, thereby cancelling out the calories.

And now of course, the unthinkable has happened...I'm over chocolate. It's finished. I'm done.

Just last night, I sat it down.

'Listen. We need to talk. It's not you, it's me. I've just...I've changed. I just don't think this is working anymore. I need space.'

'And to be honest you make me kinda sick.'

I think it took it rather well. Sure, we had a last-minute break-up rendezvous, just for old-time's sake, but never again. How could I go back?

The choice is clear - give it up now or else be found years from now spread-eagled, obese and with chocolate marks around my cherry lips. And no, that's not a look that's huge in Milan.

"Here lies Jenny. She lived, she laughed, she ate.
Piggy wiggedy wig wig."

It's so over.

Mummy's feeling angry

This is me.

This is why:

1. My freakin' computer keyboard is rooted so it will not only not type out 'g' (that's right, I have to copy and paste it every time I want to use it) but it is now typing multiple ................ with no end in sight. This has at points become so frustrating that I have been known to seize the keyboard with two hands, shake it above my head and roar like King Kong.

2. Our DVD player is cheap and crappy, meaning that not only will it absolutely not play any of my film footage (i.e. burned onto equally cheap and crappy DVDs) but it pretty regularly chokes on normal DVDs, usually at the pivotal dramatic moment.

3. Caleb is going through a whingeing stage from hell at the moment, although apparently not at day-care, where he is an absolute angel. How thoughtful of him, to save the best for mummy.

4. We have to move house and so far nobody seems to want to rent to a household of four where two housemates are under 4. And when one housemate is a student. And when there's already twelve other applications from people with as few children as they have money issues.

Pass the tranquiliser gun, would you?