Journalists: what can you do?

This title could also read "Politicians: what can you do?"

Marrickvillia is on the front of the Sydney Morning Herald News Review section today. Remember our party on election night?

I was contacted earlier this week to comment on Rudd's recent downward swing in the polls. I was happy for the SMH to use images from Marrickvillia, and to put the journalist in contact with other people who had been at our "Don's Party."

It's an ok article but I didn't say what I'm quoted as saying--but I'm not surprised that it's there. "Jilted" isn't in my vocabulary... and I'm fully aware that Rudd has kept some promises and that those he hasn't been able to keep have been somewhat thwarted by the shameless Libs in various ways.

We are still a thousand times better off with the ALP than with Abbott and his gang of losers.

Truth be told, at the end of the day, when all's said and done, I won't lie to you: politicians are primarily politicians, and we never really believe their "promises" in the first place. And journalists are primarily journalists, and we expect them to make stuff up. And I'm an academic and write a whole lot of theory-crap occasionally. It's all part of our rich discursive tapestry.

Our "Don's party" was a great night because we felt it was finally the end of the Howard era and because two powerful, fabulous women were suddenly in the forefront of Australian politics, not because any of us really thought that a consummate politician like Rudd would ever be anything other than exactly that.

to have and to hold

On Saturday I attended the most lovely wedding I've been at. It was even nicer than my own, alas. My little brother, Dorian, the one I used to dress up as a princess so I could be the witch and Gareth could be the baddie, got married to his long-time-love Laura. It was a gentle, arty, thoughtful day.

It was brilliant to meet some bloggers there--I felt like two of my worlds had collided, not just the virtual and the real (which I don't see as separate anyway), but the familiar (as in family) and the bloggy, the artful-creative and the lived-history.

And how things change in that lived history...a favourite auntie who I still think of as slim and blonde and super-glamorous is now a rounded middle-aged brunette. One of my 89 year old grannies--I am hugely lucky to have two of them--who looked close to death a few months ago is now almost sprightly, and definitely back to her canny observant self. A wayward teenager who hasn't been able to face his own father since before Christmas was obliged to attend, and the two of them got on like a house on fire because they were both just so HAPPY. Therapy? forget it, you just need a good wedding.

Not everyone chooses to marry, and not everyone who wants to can do so (yet). Dorian and Laura had a rare opportunity to create a day when things and people, generations and worlds, could come together, and they carried it off beautifully. It was magical.

Three women I love and admire

HAPPY INTERNATIONAL WOMEN'S DAY

My mother Betty

My best friend Julia

My daughter Ruby

The sunset from Marrickville was gorgeous last night - very Rococo, I thought, slightly garish even, but with a gum tree flavour. You can see more photos here. The birds were so noisy along the river that Richard and I had to stop talking for a minute.

Isn't it funny how when you're busy doing blog-worthy things you don't have time to write, and then when you do get a chance you forget what you were going to write about?

Damn. Let me think. Oh yes, we had a lovely dinner:


We invited our dear friend Phil, who is Georgie's Dad. Georgie made place-markers (see mine, "Dr Jones"?) and a fantastically tangy lemon tart. Richard did zucchini flowers stuffed with ricotta followed by a pesto pasta that was almost jumping off the plate with flavour. I set the table with my favourite 1970s "scenes of Sydney" placemats & poured the wine.

I wrote a grant application, my first ever. I've been a little paralysed about them for a year or so - I think the cancer blew my confidence a bit so I just concentrated on what I knew - my teaching (hence the award, hehehe) and my writing. Anyway, I loved doing the application and will definitely do more now that I've broken the ice. This one is asking for just under $25,000 to do some research in Thailand about cosmetic surgery tourism - a logical next step from the research I did for my book - so fingers crossed! I won't find out until December.

My ex-step-father-in-law (work that one out) died last week. He was nearly 84 and had had a pretty wonderful life, crashing planes during WWII on the beach in Darwin, sailing around Australia, being married to two beautiful women (not at the same time) and having a loving, close family. Ruby and I went to Melbourne for the funeral, which was lovely - totally secular - standing room only - laughter along with tears. Vale Bert.

It's a Man's World

Yesterday Suzanne B picked me up from yoga and we headed out to the Penrith Regional Gallery. We're working on a book together about Hair. Yes, hair. It'll be the first in this series of books. So when we saw that the PRG was holding an "Hirsute Pursuit" competition to accompany its MAN: Depicting Contemporary Masculinity exhibition, we just had to go and check it out. It was a beautiful sunny Autumn day and the shadows were already long by three o'clock.

The hairy competition was part of a "Mister Market" day with stalls featuring masculinity-themed artistic merchandise. My favourite competition costumes were the woman-jesus, and the woman in a woman suit. Neither of them won, which was just outrageous. I told the woman in a woman suit that I'd thought her's was the best outfit and that I thought she should have won. "What can you do?" she replied, "it's a man's world."

See more photos & commentary here.

Poor Neglected Bloggie

I'm writing this post from the airport in Vancouver - I'm on my way home and hoping to do some proper blogging soon.

I've been in Canada for the past few weeks, in Edmonton and in Vancouver, working and attending a conference. See pictures here.

I took 4 days off to drive through the Rocky Mountains - my goodness, it was eye-bogglingly beautiful, scene after scene of craggy cloud-high mountains, all tipped with snow, and conifers and glaciers and bears (well, one bear - hey, I saw a bear!) and elk and a marmot and some long-horned sheep. I went with my dear friend Cressida and we stopped to ski for a day in Jasper (where elk wander along the streets & the rubbish bins are bear-proof). I LOVE skiing, it's totally addictive - I think it's the combination of brightness, coldness, cushioned silence and of course speeeeeeeed. Excellent. Until you fall and sprain your finger or get a nasty ankle-burn, but even then it's worth it.

My conference, transsomatechnics, was rather wonderful too. Cressida and I presented a panel with Lucas Crawford. I had some technical glitches because I over-ambitiously tried to show a series of small extracts from The Swan, Poltergeist, Videodrome and The Ring, silly me, but it was all ok in the end. People seemed to get my idea about "media-bodies" so that was pleasing. I think I'll make it the subject of my next book.

It's hard to choose a highlight from the conference but it was great to meet one of my long-distance mentors, at last, the philosopher Kathryn Morgan. We had some wonderful talks and I now have a new friend.

I was thrilled to also meet Antony Hegarty, who is my all-time favourite singer (I played his bird album every day of 2006, all through my cancer treatments). Antony was absolutely delightful during the performance he gave for the conference attendees - he kept starting songs, stopping after a few bars and telling a little story, then starting the song again. He spoke about his childhood, about the environment, and about gender. He was captivating, modest, humble and very very lovely. If there were more humans in the world like him I reckon we'd all be set.

The only sad note of my trip was that Ruby emailed to say she's found a place to live with some of her friends ... that is, she's moving out of home. I feel bereft. But I know she has to do it, she wants to be independent and of course that's a good thing. But, well, you know, poor me.

Before I went to Canada I had my book launch, and did heaps of media stuff - mostly interviews - radio & a little press. That's me at the top there in the UTS Co-op Bookshop window, with the display that my very talented friend Natalie Coulter made. Isn't she clever? Gleebooks sold out of the book (they'd only ordered 30 copies) on the night of the launch which was very gratifying. It's great that the book is finally out there in the world, doing its own thing - but now I have to wait for the reviews! Goodness knows how long they'll take, or even if there will be any produced at all by the notoriously slowly churning academic world.

Anyway, I have some new ideas for the blog so watch this space...

Australia Day in Enmore Park

Planes roaring overhead, a band with a woman lead singer doing Jimmy Barnes covers, people dancing with kids and babies, everyone with their picnic rugs, and dogs galore. Bats flapping powerfully against the breeze. Then the fireworks. It's quite a small park, and only about 50 square metres were cordoned off for the pyrotechnicians. Chrysanthemums, crackles, wagon wheels and strobes were bursting right above our heads and were incredibly close. There was no music while they were going off, which was wonderful because for the first time since I was a kid I could really hear them. They crack and crackle, screech, fizz and bang. Some sound like massive sparklers, others like surf breaking. Silver streaks wheezed their way upwards before turning into delicate stars.

David from Mount Druitt and Daniel from Marrickville

Boss, a Bull Mastiff cross Great Dane, and Beukannan, both from Marrickville

Dougall, a Boston Terrier, and Glen, both from Newtown

Sophia and Prince
"This is our local park, he's never seen so many people at his local park!"


Andrew and Grant, and their beloved Lily.


Gyoza and Sergei
"He's called Gyoza because he has ears like Japanese dumplings"


Leonie, Sunnai and Booty from Newtown


Bridge Andrews with Oscar and Bosie


Max and Marie


Mary and Lily.
Lily is half Papillon, half Chihuahua; she belongs to Mary's granddaughter Amy.


Standing, from left to right: J-me, Josh & Jika. Sitting, from left to right: Alex & Jermaine.
They all go to Marrickville High.


Margo and Sam from Enmore.


Glen Moss of Petersham and Charles Guarroch of Penrith.
They work for Marrickville Council.


Denny Burgess from Newtown

All the bests

By Meredith

The best Christmas post I've read so far is at Eddy Currents. Justine is a beautiful writer, a swimming teacher, and a book seller from the South of London. Her blog deserves more readers so please go and have a look.

The best one year old boy I've been spending time with:

The best New Year's Eve resolution ever (because it's achievable so long as I don't lose my job): buy good quality, nice underwear, when I need it (ie don't wait until all the elastic is gone and bits of body are wandering free).

The best day on holidays so far: in the city of Melbourne with my mum, including lunch at Ca De Vin, one of the many Italian-inspired cafes that pop up in the laneways and arcades that web the CBD.

The best bargain: we had a wander through all the little shops in Degraves St where I got a HUGE bargain at Shag. Imagine finding a Chloe jacket that you love, and it fits you perfectly, and, because it's a sample, it's only $195.00, but then, for some crazy reason, it's reduced in the post-Christmas sale to $15.00!! The excitement was almost more than I could bear.

The best sales purchase overall though, is these gold shoes - they're for my dear friend Tracy's wedding where I'll be bridesmaid; I'll wear them with a long vintage apricot beaded dress (the bride is wearing tangerine).

The best plan to get Christmas cake:

lie quite still, pretending to be asleep, but crawl slowly towards the fruity, nutty goodness;

get excitingly close before you're discovered & told off. Oh well.

Santa's sack slipped & someone nicked the tips

By Meredith

I'm in Mebourne, having my usual Christmas / New Year break with family and old friends. On Christmas Day, after a beautiful lunch of mushroom and asparagus risotto, baked vegetables, salad, berry and passionfruit pavlova, Christmas pudding with custard, Christmas cake, and chocolates, I was assailed by this sight of sights:


On Boxing Day, wandering along Brunswick St, Fitzroy, I heard this conversation between a Koori couple sitting with lattes outside The Black Cat:

her: "A blackfella went in and stole their tips bowl."
him (groaning, head in hands): "You're kidding me."

Today, I'm going underwear shopping with my mother at David Jones. I suggested we meet on the Flinders St Station steps, but mother came up with a better idea - the Big Purse.

hols about to start

By Meredith

Oh my dears,
It hasn't been such a big bloggy year as last year was, but goodness me I've been busy with other things. I'm resolved to be a better blogger in 2009. So, updates!

The menagerie: Stryker the horse has a new friend; we're very relieved as he was such a loner and we were worried he was miserable. Horses are sociable creatures, and I read a while ago that there is a law in, I think, Sweden, that you're not allowed to keep only one horse - it always had to have at least one friend. The ratties are lovely critters with soft fur and twitching whiskers and dear little fingers... they continue to delight. The cat, Led, tells us each morning, loudly, how hard her life is. We sympathise. The pug dog, Sailor, is getting old and losing teeth but is still very fit. She's thin for a pug, thanks to the brutal diet regime I keep her on.

The daughter: she did brilliantly in the HSC - she probably wouldn't want me to put the actual mark here but let's just say that not many people in the state got a higher score and she was in the newspaper. We're so proud!

Work: The CV's "forthcoming" section is bulging with no less than seven new pieces of my writing coming out in 2008, which I'm pretty pleased about. They range from my book, to refereed journal articles, to more arty pieces, to encyclopaedia entries. I also finished this year, with my wonderful friend Cressida Heyes, an edited anthology of feminist responses to cosmetic surgery. That's off being reviewed by two publishing houses at the moment - fingers crossed for it, it was so much work! Teaching was invigorating and exhausting simultaneously, and as usual I have learned much from my students.

Christmas: I have had a very enjoyable time choosing presents for friends and family. People are getting things like Italian conversation classes, little original art works, jewellery, things purchased at Gallery Serpentine (you'll just have to guess what) and lots and lots of books. I don't buy everything at the last minute, rather I collect stuff through the year, not necessarily with anyone in mind, and put it in my "present cupboard" (this is a big bag in the spare room wardrobe). Then, as Christmas draws near, I get it all out to see what I've got - aha! that book about window dressing will do nicely for my ex sister in law who is a visual merchandiser; that gorgeous Italian cookbook will suit a hard-to-buy-for couple, and I even have someone in mind for the (good quality) knock-off white leather "Chanel" wallet.

Of course I have most fun buying for the kids. Most of them are getting books, stickers, packets of tattoos, etc, but my little five year old nephew will receive a doctor's kit. In a little red case came plastic syringes, a thermometer, ear-examining thingos and a stethoscope. I've added in bandaids, rolls of bandages, "pills" (tic tacs), a tube of aloe vera gel, and a bottle of "medicine" (decanted Ribena). I hope he will be able to cure me of all my ills on Christmas day.

The Glittering Lights of Marrickville

This house in Fraser St is famous - they go all out every year & even have a charity box.

There's nothing like a bit of sparkle around the palm tree at Christmas.

This house, in Petersham Rd, is one of my favourite Fedeterranean homes (I love the crazy-wall front fence & the iron work). See the sliver of moon?
A grand old home with its original gate.

Santa in car.

And even those without front gardens give it a go.

aowh... the day after

we are not well we have a headache there was partying and screaming and joyous whoops and the house was chockers and we ate a huge lebanese feast and people dressed up and someone vomited and the dog ate it before we could stop her and everyone was glued to the teve and maxine looked so radiant and delighted, and julia so pinkly pleased & modest. One of them will be Australian Prime Minister eventually but kevin will do for the time being.