Sunday, June 05, 2005

Sugar and Spice, Foxtel, Acoustic Anne-Marie, Afterwards

I went on a little excursion to the video store and got out a swag of DVD booty, ar. So I'm watching Sugar and Spice and the character of Jack Bartlett played by James Marsden SO reminded me of someone that I kept bursting into little fits of hysteria (Nicky - you will know EXACTLY who I'm talking about). I call them "golden retriever" men. If you don't know what I'm talking about, you obviously haven't had a lot of experience with dogs... And I don't mean Metro Freo on a Saturday night. Hee.

The parentals have now installed Foxtel, which I have no time to watch, (I don't have a very active social life but I have no spare time on my hands. Yes, I can't figure it out either.) but on the odd occasion that I do, let me say that it just opens up a whole new bag of scariness. How do the people on TWOP put it? Oh yes, you stare at the floor and whisper "Awkward." Another variation is to mutter "Un! Comfortable!" through gritted teeth. Animal Planet - that just leads to places you don't want to explore with your parents watching, and don't even get me started on explaining the plot of Flowers in the Attic to your mother (as I did tonight).

(Actually it wasn't that bad, my mum is very cool. HOWEVER, she is a midwife, so please never, never, never I'm-begging-you-with-a-side-of-Kyan-Douglas get her started on the topic of nipples. In fact, topic-wise around my mother, never venture below the neck area.* Un! Comfortable!)

On Friday night, Anne-Marie and Donna played an acoustic set at the Swan Basement. I arrived early and had to wait in the Swan Hotel (which is, surprisingly enough, above the Swan Basement) with my diet cola post-mix while large beefy men with no chins watched the footy on about 30 televisions. I presume such a large number of televisions were needed due to the absence of chins, necks, and hence, neck-turning ability among the Swan Hotel's usual clientele. Anyway, I think I fitted in about as well as a tampon in a barbershop.

Luckily the Basement opened up 10 minutes later and I made my way downstairs to a completely different room where Graham, Jake and Leesh were seated around a Starfighter type game, and the people that milled around wore shirts with collars (presumably because they had necks). It was like walking through a wormhole (the Star Trek kind). Very strange. Everyone else turned up shortly after Jake had caned Graham's arse by about 1000 points.

AM and Donna played beautifully. AM's written some really lovely songs, full of fire, some of them very moving, and I think she will make it big. (And I will get to go to all the backstage parties. Woo!)

Despite poor Jon's sleepy protests, we went back to D Court afterwards and admired (well, in my case, heckled) the mail-ordered swords (and helmet) that they'd ordered a couple of weeks ago. Carl used his smiting sword to very cleanly cut Graham's Subway footlong in half, so I suppose barbaric weaponry can come in useful sometime. Meh. Bamboo's good enough for me. Although a smiting sword would make an excellent suburito. Sorry, just ignore my inner kendo geek.

*Actually, just don't discuss anything anatomical with my mother at all, even objects above the neckline can be used as cannon fodder - my mother was convinced for years that I was growing a small hump on my back and would end up ringing bells at Notre Dame in my twenties. I think this was her loveable variation on the "Stand up straight!" routine that mothers tell their slouchy teenage daughters. A pity it never came true - I could have named it "Leopold" and pretended it was my dead twin, or repelled annoying people by asking them if they wanted to touch it. Hmm, good times...