ABC'ing your CD's

I have been in full blown interior rearranger (IR) mode (as distinct from interior decorating, which I think implies getting nice new things rather than just shuffling the old ones). One of the tasks I undertook was to sort out my CD's which were piled one on top of the other in a cupboard to the point where I just couldn't be arsed getting out the bottom ones or even refreshing my memory as to what was there. So I went and did the IR equivalent of base jumping and decided to alphabetise the CD's.

While you all sit there shaking your heads (I am watching both of you.... always watching), I acknowledge that this is something that I had always imagined my freaky nerd friends (ok, more freaky and more nerdy) doing, but not me. Nooo, I am way too down with the kids for that sort of thing. I would much rather be all funky and chaotic and just have the cd's all lying around in the wrong cases. YEAH MAN!

I then realised that while rather uncool, having them organised means that I can actually find the one I want to listen to, and it is actually easier than trawling through the mp3 player and plugging that into the stereo. Plus I also know what I own in my collection, which was both fun and a little distressing. Here are some chestnuts I uncovered:

1. Dummy by Portishead. Very cool album. A friend once told me that she knew that she wanted to be with her now husband when he gave her this album. I understand it is rather, er sexy, shall we say.
2. Spartacus by The Farm. This will mean nothing to anyone unless you were into early 90's dance/Madchester music. Do the songs "Groovy Train" or "All together now" mean anything? No? Nuff said.
3. Static and Silence by The Sundays. The Sundays have been 'on hiatus' for some time now, with the two key members having a couple of kids (together even, disgusting isn't it). I had a big crush on Harriet Wheeler, the singer, who I still think has one of the most gorgeous voices I have ever heard.
4. Polyserena by George. Talk about a voice. Katie Noonan can just blow your mind. I have seen them live a number of times and every time they were awesome. There is no truth to rumours that I may have made a bit of a tool of myself by getting her to sign an album and being fairly incapable of being as witty and erudite as was the plan. I specialised more in dumbstruck and incoherent at the time.
5. lots of 80's albums, including efforts (and in some cases that is the most appropriate word) by bands such as ABC, Duran Duran, Level 42, Howard Jones (not a group, I know), U2, etc, etc. I am a child of the 80's, ok, even though I was born in the 70's. Keep up, ok?

That is enough for now. Too much confession might not be good for the soul, on reflection...

Half-Arse Weekend

Hi folks. Long time me no blog. I suspect I can't blame anyone for that but me, so we will press right along.

As you may have guessed from the heading, I had a rather half-arsed weekend. I felt a tad anti-social at times (yes, me - hard to believe I know, but stay with me, the story gets much better later on. OK, don't take my word for that), so decided to get on with some domestic reorganisation. This domestic reorganisation has been needed for some time. This is a rough translation of:

1. I have piles of bills, although mostly paid, sitting around potentially breeding. As a rough calculation between water, power, gas, internet, phone, other phone, oh and the mortgage of course I seem to pay the GDP of Tuvalu each month*. you would think in these circumstances a decent organisational system would be an advantage. Mine involves putting it all in piles, and then about once every 9-12 months spending far too much of my hard-earned leisure time sorting through it. Clever, non?
2. I also have too many books. Before you roll your eyes and say "Oh, what a surprise", if it isn't too late, I actually inherited a lot of them about 10 years ago, so they have some sentimental value too. An uncle who shared my rather Poindexter-esque taste in books left all his to me - all 1500 of them. So now I have a couple of thousand books 3 deep on bookshelves, a number of which may fall loosely into the categorisation with words such as 'fantasy' and 'fiction' in the title. And I am not talking fantasy in the sense of fingers' DVD collection, but I may be talking fiction of the scientific variety. In my defence, I also have a lot of English literature including my fair share of your English poets, although that doesn't get a regular run in recent years, and I have a few Halldor Laxnesses for your Icelandophiles out there... OK, and I am crap at throwing out books. I refuse to feel bad about this.
3. I have a small house - ok, I just needed a third reason, but I blame it for not having enough storage. Selfish, selfish house..

On the weekend I set about filing the bills, moving some bookcases into the study and setting up my new TV in the lounge room. On Saturday, a filthily hot day, especially with a tin roof, I was dragging around bits of furniture, categorising bills, unpacking, sorting and restacking books, and hooking up lots of cables for tv-surround-sound-type-thingies. These fun-filled pastimes are always helped by having small dogs that alternately lie around sounding like they are about the expire, and every time you move something, decide that they simply must check it out, climb into it, or wrestle on it (the last being reserved for neatly stacked bill piles) - I swear they were nearly disowned about 4 times.

Why is it then after significant time spent doing all these things, that none of it is actually done? Why does my house look like a halfway house for domestic chores? Why is there crap everywhere? Could it be that I am incapable of seeing something through? Could it be that there are too many questions and not enough answers? Well? Speak up?

*Apologies to all you Tuvaluans stopping in at UO, I'm sure you make much, much more than that. Birdshit is white gold, I tells ya.

Educational Experiences

Long weekends are to be enjoyed. Take, par example, the long weekend that I have just enjoyed, or perhaps more aptly, experienced. Let me take you interested folks on a journey, a journey into sound...

Ok, no sound actually, but I was just having an 80's/90's music flashback. I will resume normal broadcasting.

This weekend involved a few traditions. The first was watching the Grand Final (the AFL, aka the important one) at a couple of friends' place. They borrow a wide screen tv so they have 2 set up in their lounge room, and about 30 people play musical chairs and drink a lot. This was a fun afternoon, but somewhat bittersweet for obvious reasons. The close loss also meant that most of us were still sober enough to watch Doctor Who at 7.30. This was the highlight of the day, as the episode featured not only cybermen but the hint of daleks to come. Sadly, there was more cheering when the inevitable daleks appeared in the teaser for next week's season finale than there was in the first half of the Grand Final, but I shall let sleeping dogs lie on that one...

Sunday was my mate Gary's Oktoberfest party. This is an annual affair, and is a veritable feast of smallgoods and cabbage. To be more specific, Gary makes pilgrimages to obtain Weisswurst and other nobles sausages of German descent, and delicacies such as rollmops, sauerkraut and something that involves cooking cabbage and pork knuckle, which he yesterday confirmed is called "Cabbage and Pork Knuckle". Entry is by way of a bottle of schnapps. For those of you who have dabbled in the complex world of schnapps (and who among us have not, let's be honest), you will know that this opens up a plethora of opportunities for finding the most vile and rank alcoholic beverages imaginable.

The afternoon begins calmly enough, with around 30 or so friends sitting around enjoying the sun, drinking beer (preferably German, of course) and partaking of the wurst. As the oldie but goodie goes, it is on these days that one sees one's friends at their best and their wurst. Thank you, no really. Things do take something of a turn for the wurst (thanks again) when one's small, cute black pug does something to offend a mastiff also at the party (something like, I dunno, breathing) and gets literally shoved down about 8 stone stairs but aforementioned mastiff. Pug now has bruised eyes and suspected concussion. I kid you not.

It is later when the sun gets lower in the sky that the first trays of assorted schnapps start being passed around. this is easy enough, as the chocolate, banana, and several others are easily identified and can be avoided or snapped up readily enough. Later when the plum starts looking like the butterscotch, and the clear ones all look like each other, one can find oneself drinking potato or melon by mistake, which is a grave error. it is only when people decide to start layering shots that it gets ugly. That and when the Gletcher eis (for the uninitiated, this is a clear blue liquid with the colour, consistency and taste of blue Listerine, but with the added advantage of getting you very drunk) comes out.

Things have really taken a turn for the worst when said mad professors of mixology decide to start being 'inventive' (read: start trying to poison their friends). It may well be time to take you and your pugs home when you shoot a 'surprise' that turns out to be Gletcher Eis and champagne, and your stomach sends an express message to your brain along the lines of "Do that again, and I will make you vomit on yourself in front of your friends. A number of times. Don't say I didn't warn you."

A third tradition is the 'Day After', in this case playing Scrabble with a few slow moving friends who were at the prior days' events. Among the highlights of this non-thinking day were "Toque" and "cinema" but lowlights included "Oo", which I can reliably confirm is a Scottish derived word for wool. Hey, I got rid of one of those 6 vowels I was holding at the time.

What did you crazy kids get up to?