Things that are not my friend

  • My brain
  • Any man, woman, child or animal who has any part whatsoever in the production of Two and a Half Men in any way
  • Johnny Depp, despite indications to the contrary within narrative of recent dream
  • Kate Moss, see above
  • Self’s lack of appropriate time management skills
  • My necks, arms, legs and torsos refusal to act like they are in fact attached to a rock god and not reduce me to limping feebly about my house after a night out
  • Child performers whose uncanny skill and warbly vibrato leaves me twitchy and uncomfortable
  • Self’s debilitating obsession with Wonka’s chewy gobstoppers
  • Scatting
  • Apparently carbohydrates
  • Reggae
  • Bloody pollen (bloody being in this case an expression of my distaste for said pollen, not a description of state of pollen)
  • The apparent learning disability that rears its head around assessment time and causes my brain to behave like a startled pony trying to read journal articles
  • This conversation: “Geez, it’s cold today!” “This? This isn’t cold. You don’t even know cold.”
  • Tammin Sursok.
  • My ovaries, odd non pimple that never goes away and ridiculously unfounded crushes on people I will never meet
  • Snot

Remember.. ember…ember.. ember..

I will now put together my first  “look at the day I had” post. Inspired by my mate Soph‘, who seems to plan and carry out adventures so readily it would make Tom Sawyer say “Geez. Calm down. Don’t you just want to watch some Desperate Housewives?”.

As documented in my most gloatie blerg ever, I threw together a last minute dinner party for my house mate and friend Kate for her birthday. It was great. AND I remembered to take many photos. Aren’t you lucky?

I baked! From scratch! Ok. It was a packet mix.  I can’t lie to you internet.

And made a mess. Please to ignore the spray cleaner sitting quite close to food.

Cooked haloumi! For the salad!

The rest of the scrummy salad.

Cupcakes worked, despite sabotage efforts from our mental oven.

Iced and written on..

Kate is Great!

Dips and bread, teeny little sandwiches, teddy bear biscuits, lentil and haloumi salad and chocolate cupcakes. Mmmm, hmmmm. And of course a couple of hats.

And Rhi-Rhi cooked lamb. Huhmazing..

We wait patiently for Kate to come.. Gareth totally rocking my lavender cowboy hat.

waiting and drinking..

waiting and smiling..

Yay! The reason for that hats is here!


indeed, olive tree. Indeed.

Well that’s the end of that memory crafting, but hopefully there’ll be many more to come. Thanks for being born Katie!

I am a ninja

So I haven’t written much in a little while*, which I know has left my one and a half readers just out of  their minds with worry and withdrawal induced skin picking, but I’ve been busy. Mainly busy with a shite-load of assignments, but also with being

incredibly stealthy and awesome.

Let me tell you a story.

Weekend before last I thought I’d pop over to Adelaide (side bar to state that this is a smallish big deal, as I live in Melbourne and don’t see my friends and fam as much as a good ninja should). So I did. My aim? Surprise the hell out of BOTH my mum and my mate Caz.

Two surprises in one weekend, Carlynne? Surely you jest! No. I don’t.

It took all of my powers of long distance stealth (and a lot of assistance from my ninja cohorts Ms Oz and also my fam who conspire like it ain’t no thang) but I managed to hook it up. My mums took place at my bro’s house where the poor dear was coming to “babysit” straight from work.

She came in to find all of us in there including me and she flat out lost her shit. It was fantastic.

I did Caz’s a little on the fly as a last minute gig (Freakin Clare Bowditch man) came up that NCH (Ninja CoHort) Ms Oz wangled free tickets for (Ms Oz’s band Cheer Advisory Council supported-they wail). Surprise numero two-oh went down in a pub toilet, as all decent ninja activity should. Caz was thrilled (as well as obviously amazed at my ninja-ness) and it was brilliant.

So I had a rockin weekend, psyched that my two Epic Captain Magic Stunts had come off without a hitch. Ninja retired.

But. Little did I know that I would need my super powers once again for an

Epic Captain Magic Hosted Dinner Party

in my driveway that I discovered -by way of a vision- I needed to host.

Firstly, my housemate Kate is both awesome and alive, being that she was born a little over 29 years ago now and has managed to stay… born.

Secondly, I recently read Don Millers A Million Miles in a Thousand Years and became quite enamoured of it (as well as of Don but that’s fairly old news). He talks about our lives being like stories and how if we want memorable moments, maybe we need to make some. I wanted to “make a moment” for someone and I thought “why not for Kate’s birthday, why not in the driveway, why not hats and a dinner party in the driveway for Kate’s birthday”. Bam.

So I gots some crew together, recruited some more NCH’s to lure Kate from the scene (not leaving me with a whole lot of time, but a ninja takes what she is given) and prepared a sort of Mad Hatters Feast and Kate, Kate had no idea a party where she would wear a feathered headdress awaited her in the front of her house when she got home. If you don’t mind me saying, it was totally boss. Yeah.

That’s all for the minute. I’m just going to quietly melt into the night now.

ps post to follow detailing the “moment” I made with my ninja carpentry skills. This particular post was just showin off. Yay!

*I wrote this entry mostly before I wrote the entry about Brook. I think Brook would have liked me being a ninja, so I republished it after, so things don’t seem so gloomy.


I was chucking together the fun little entry about the dinner party we had on Sunday, but truthfully, what I want to write is this:

My friend Brook just died. He was my supervisor at my old job, but he was also my friend, as I’m sure most people who worked with him would say. I hadn’t seen him in over a year, but still I look over at the books he lent to me that I was never able to return, or I think of a man so full of life and so ready to laugh being sick, and suffering, and dying and I feel just, confusion beyond words and also full up of sadness.

Brook was one of the better men I’ve ever had the joy of knowing. He made anyone that met him feel at home, and not only that but they felt cared for. He loved people and he loved women particularly. But the respect within this man. He talked to any woman like she was the loveliest, most interesting woman he’d ever met. He told me he felt it was his calling in life to make women feel like they were the only person in the room. Like they were loved. And he did it well.

He made work not just bearable, but fun. Funny, hilarious dude. He dug music, I’m fairly certain he was kind of a big deal in the Oz music scene once upon a time. He had the speaking voice of a radio god and he will certainly be missed, and I just feel sad because a great man’s life has ended and that makes my life a little less shiny right now and the world a little bit less wonderful.

Brook, you were lovely and loved, and I thank you for everything. My prayers are with your family.

Please if you’ve never read it, do yourself a favour and pay tribute to Brook by reading I heard the Owl Call my Name. He told me I should read it and he was right.

Also, cancer is totally shit and it took another man of dignity and grace so another way to pay tribute to Brook and to those who I’m sure you know have come into contact with it, would be to donate, if you can.


An Undertaking.

I had an idea.

I think it’s a good one. I think it’s one I want to actually…do.

This is the post where I tell you about it.

I’m struggling with a name though..

The Idea


Shit I want to do.


Anyway, the idea. I want to make a list,

The List!


a list, inspired by my 29th year (approaching with velociraptor like speed) and by stuff I think I should pull off before the big 3 0 arrives.

Soon I will be a Grown Up these are things that Grown Ups do and I’m going to do them so they let me in


This inspires a great deal of thought.

Who gives a toss? Is one such thought.

Does 30 actually matter? Is another.

The facts are these:

1. I am aging

2. This frequently scares the crap out of me and inspires vacuums of self doubt

3. I need tangible reasons to write regularly or this blog will go the way of my knitting spat

So this is what will happen. I will make a list, to be finalised closer to my birthday. I will consult people older and younger than me as to what I should put on the list as well as about their views on aging. I will blog about each item on the list and I will blog weekly for the length of a year, starting at 29, ending at 30. I will, of course, have a neat and well timed epiphany to close the year with about the nature of age and maturity etc.

The list as it stands currently:

Start dancing lessons

Catch a Barrumundi

Bake a Pie

Start learning French

Save money

Read all my books

Watch less tv

Take more chances

Give one night a week to writing

Walk daily

Adjust to who I am

Be comfortable around new people

Sing more frequently

Take more photos

Judge less

Do not use cynicism as a crutch

Throw out one thing a month

Buy clothing and footwear only from vintage/recycled shops where possible

Understand what it means to grow up

Eat at this allegedly fantastic Japanese place my mate Brad went mental over

Make my blog look a bit nicer

Knit something


When the internets made me cry

I have this disease where I compare myself to anyone I come across who does or has or is something that I want to do have or be. Like there is a race, or a board game where everyone has to be awesome and I’m sussing the competition and being like “dude. No way. They have this in the bag”. Gah. So very year 11.

I just looked at this blog called THXTHXTHX, and it is lovely and it is the kind of idea I wish I’d had. It is this girl Leah and she writes a thank you note a day to things like Anything I Eat After Surfing and Request For Me To Cut Your Hair. It is funny and sweet and honest and I like it a lot, but immediately I thought “damn. She’s done it. She’s better than me” and I actually got a little teary about it.


The thing is, I actually have a blog of my own, about daily things I’m grateful for/happy about, but what my brain did when looking at her blog was to think that her way of being grateful is somehow more hip and edgy than mine. Because a blogs hipster cred is obviously the most important issue here. I’m such a douche sometimes.

I think though, that the reason I got teary was (at least partially) that a. I cry with relative expedience at all manner of things and b. I am so glad that the world is populated by women and men who see the beauty and the excellence around them and want to celebrate that. This is brave and good and makes me a little emo.

And I am now going to endeavour to grip hold of my individuality as something to be proud of, not mourned, and others creativity as an exciting expression of Good Stuff. Ok? Ok.

That’s all, I reckon. But check out her blog, and celebrate with me the wonder of humanity and of thank you notes.


how i suck at the sleeping, or things I’m average at no.87

Sleeping seems to be a sort of straight forward, normal person thing to do, along with breathing in and out, not falling off the earth and eating through your face. Generally at the end of the day people lay on a sort of comfortable soft version of the ground, with a squooshy softer thing under their heads and fall asleep, adding or subtracting ingredients like foot out of blanket, cuddable bear/unicorn/Jesus/partner.

The following is an account of how I do things.

V1. Scene: I am in bed, having felt very tired. I read till I can’t keep my eyes open any more.

Enter brain:

Brain: You are tired.

Me: Yup.

Brain: You should sleep now.

Me: Well, yes. Ha ha. That’s the idea. So…uh… G’night!

Brain: Night! … … Doo doo doo..

Me: Um. Is there something wrong?

Brain: Oh, heavens no. Just thinking. You sleep. Go on!

Me: O… k, night..

Brain: Oooh. What are you doing tomorrow again?

Me: University. I have TV and Popular Culture.

Brain: Oh Yeeeah! You didn’t do the readings for that did you?

Me: … no.

Brain: oooh. Hope that’s not a problem.. no, you know what? It won’t even matter. You’ll hear the lecture, so.. yeah. You’ll be fine.

Me:… ok.

Brain: So, what are you going to wear tomorrow?

Me: Oh my Lord.

Brain: I think it’s going to be warmish, so maybe a dress? Your red dress? Although.. it’s tight across your boobs. So maybe your black one? Although.. that is very short. So maybe your green one? That is so cute. Although.. you should probably shave your legs first. So you need to make sure you get up in time to do that. Ok?

Me: Sure. Whatever.

Brain (presumably lying on its stomach, twisting its hair around its finger with one leg kicking back and forth by now): You know, tomorrow, you should really hit the library and get some books. Really get going on those assignments. You always leave them till the last minute.

Me (glaring at pitch black ceiling): yeah. I know. I will. Just shut up.

Brain: Ok, ok! Don’t need to tell me twice… Do do doooo… hmmm…

Me (I utter a sigh of frustration that comes from my very soul): What. Do you. Want now.

Brain: Hhmmm? Me? Oh nothing. Just thinking about how much time you wasted today. You wasted a lot of time. A lot. A lot lot lot lot lot. Yeeeerp. A lot.

Me: Dude. I know. I’m sorry. I’ll do stuff tomorrow.

Brain (sounding considerably brighter): yeah! Cos tomorrow is a new day! Yay! Although, to be fair, you said that yesterday as well.

Me (sounding like I’ve ground my teeth into oblivion): Yeah, but tomorrow will be different, ok?

Brain: Wait a minute. Oh man. You’re not going to be able to get up are you? You’re going to sleep through uni again aren’t you?!

Me: What? No! Of course I’m going, if I can ever get to fucking-SLEEP!!

Brain: Oh, right. Ok. Say no more. I’ll be quiet as a mouse. Ssshhh. You sleep now.

Me: Ok! Good night!!

Brain: …


Brain: Dude. Do you remember when you had that dream about the whirlwind of leaves that morphed into a faun and the faun had the upper torso of Ryan from the OC?! That shit was AWESOME!!

Me: … It was pretty cool.


V2. Scene: My bed, around four in the morning. I am suddenly Awake. I am more Awake than I’ve ever been ever before in my life. I am aware of all things and a part of all things.

Me: what.. the hell..

Brain: MORNING!!

Me: oh.. dude.. What time is it?

Brain: I don’t know, but hey, you’re up! Ready to go?!

Me: .. I.. I just.. (checks time)

Brain: That was a weird party you were at in your dream. There’s not usually rollercoasters at parties, right?


Brain: Hmm? Oh I don’t know. Maybe the rooster next door or something. Anyway, about that dream, who was that guy? He was nice. Did you make him up?

Me: … I hate that effing rooster.

Brain: Maybe you should just get up, yeah? Make use of the early morning? You could write! Or go for a run!

Me: Are you high? If I get up now in fifteen minutes I’ll feel like I’ve died and I’ll sleep all day and I’ll never wake up again. And run?! Who did you think you’re talking to?

Brain: Fine, we don’t have to run, you could just-


Brain: Ok, ok, geez. Calm down. No wonder you can never sleep properly. So uptight. … Hmmm… Do de doo…

Me: WHAT?!

Brain: Do you think it’s one rooster, or many roosters? What is a bunch of roosters called anyway? You should definately google that.

Me: I just.. I just hate you so much..


V3. Scene: My bed, I have just awoken, having presumably been in a sleep coma for several hundred years.

Me: buuugghhwwhh…


Me (attempting any sort of body movement at all): Ugh. Uuuuugh.

Brain (speaking through several dozen cotten balls): Mangh.. Muungh.. jjyyoush..

Me: I.. eeeiiuu.. I yaamm uppp …

Brain: Duuuude. What time. Is things. Oh DUUUDE.

Me: that air is loud and stingy.

Brain: I are too not sleep now.

Me: I am too not sleep now also.

Brain: I. I think we sleep through clesses.

Me: Shit.

Some stuff

I have too much in my head. A small taste platter of what lurks within:

The world is so lovely, so lovely. And I spend a lot of time on facebook.

I jest about my mediocrity, but am concerned that it means I will fail at the things I find most important.

I read some of the work of this girl in my short fiction class and nearly disliked her based on envy alone and the envy threatened to close my throat.

The smell of rain today was wonderful and heavy.

My tooth may be in serious peril.

Opinions are important. Maybe. I don’t even know. But I don’t have mine all laid out like some people do and I wonder if that’s a big deal.

I love Melbourne.

Sometimes the wish that I could lose some weight nearly overtakes the wish that everyone would realise how cool they are and stop hating things.

My friend made some caramel slice and it’s basically just condensed milk with chocolate on top and it’s awesome.

I want to go away somewhere and think and breathe for like a week. Without facebook there to observe stoically.

Do you ever wish you could just tell people when you want to be mates with them, and ditch all the “oh, hey maaann..” bull? Me too.

I want to research anarchy and the bible and to start sticking shit up in public places.

I don’t feel well.

thanks for you time, interweb! You’re a doll.