And I solemnly pledge...

After a few days of re-watching inspiring speeches, finishing off the red, white and blue inauguration party candy and hearing about thousands of Americans making their pledge to help reinvent their country, I've decided to make a few pledges of my own.

These promises are not geared so much toward helping my fellow man, but toward first helping me, the kind of resolutions that are a little too late to be for New Years, but still need to be made.

So here we go.

Number 1: Organisation

My room, as anybody who has had the "pleasure" of visiting will know, has been a rather complex mess pretty much since we moved into this house four years ago. Over the time I've cleaned, but then piles upon piles of stuff has built up again and again making for a never ending cycle of clean and tidy. This year, however, the cycle will end *cue dramatic music. I've slowly began the process of sorting, folding, cleaning and ruthlessly throwing away that will enable my bedroom and I to seem like a relatively normal shelter and inhabitant combination. I've now sorted my book case, which now contains my favourite books and plays from uni, my dvd collection and my holders of the pretty magazines I collect. I've cleaned out three wardrobe shelves which house old memorandum of childhood and travels past, my 'glory box' things; plates, trays, vases and teapots which my aunt and I have been collecting for the ever closer day when I depart from home, and then my makeup and beauty related products.

While it may not look like much at the moment, these shelves were very, very messy and I'm really quite proud of my efforts.

Along with organised room comes organised life and I've made purchase of a couple of little items to help. My favourite is the Kiki K diary my mother brought me (under strict guidance) for Christmas. It's got ample room for each day and a handy ribbon to mark your place, but the reason I love it is the beautiful design. The cover is made from cream vinyl and each page is decorated beautifully with each month a different theme. Have a squiz and be ridiculously jealous.




My other purchase for my organised year comes in the shape of a beautiful, gorgeous artwork calendar from the magazine I read frankie. Favourite artists of the magazine were chosen to each contribute an original picture every month with stunning results; here's January:

Along with my organisation, I'm decorating my room with all the pretty, quiant little things I own which inspire me. Here's a box I recently finished covering with pictures.

Number 2: Health

So I'm not unhealthy exactly. I do try to eat healthily most of the time, and I live in a household of healthy eaters so we don't have too much junk around. I'm a regular gym member, in fact I interrupted writing this post to go, and since the New Year I've been going for morning walks, the stories from which make for a post all of their own. For me, health improvement can mainly come at lunchtimes when I'm often away from home and surrounded by stores where the unhealthy options are cheaper than the healthy ones. My problems is this; I just don't like salad. I can do a bit of lettuce, some beetroot and pinapple and I'm not averse to corn and carrot but put it all together and I turn a bit green. I'm not going to force the issue with my stomach; I'm a dreadfully picky eater and I know best that it's ridiculous trying to change that most of the time, so my goal is to simply pack good wholesome lunches that I can take with me to uni and to cut out snack buying from vending machines. I swear those grumbling possesors of candy and chips aim only for my loss of money and heart attack.

Number 3: Accessorize

As you can see, I own many accessories, and this is just some of the jewelry. It's sad, however, that I never wear them. Rarely will I even put in earrings or a necklace and I'm hopeless for buying pretty bangles and belts and never putting them on. Why? I just don't know how to. Some people, I believe, have a knack for accessorizing and I am not one of them. Fear not, I'm telling myself this year, I shall learn. I've begun to not let myself leave the house without something a little extra on and I'm happy to say I've been receiving a lot of compliments. Plan accessorization goes well.


So there's my three resolutions for the coming year, which hopefully will help me acheive all the other longer term goals that are set up for the coming months. It's a big year for me and most of my friends at uni, the last year, with many big projects to finish, but it's all very exciting.

I'll promise to keep you updated on how my resolutions go, a handy way to keep myself in line, too.

Now I go off to fold my washing!

BuzzChild

Partytimes!

Hey everyone!

Guess what's cracking really early (3:30am) on Australian tv tomorrow morning?

INAUGURATION!

Guess what we're doing at my house tonight/tomorrow morning?

INAUGURATION PARTY!

That's right; with a regular bevvy* of red,white 'n' blue party food we'll be rocking the night away playing inauguration party games and making salutations to Obama** himself.

And because I'm the hostess with the mostest for the eve I've got to get preparing for the inauguration shindig to end all Bush administrations.

Fare thee well on this historic day!

BuzzChild

*I don't think this is an actual word (my dictionary says "no") but spellcheck let it through and you know...it sounds like the right kind of word.

**Spellcheck lets through bevvy but not Obama?!

Dear Person Whose Car I Nearly Hit in the Carpark at The Bottle Shop.

Dear Person,

I planned to start this letter in deep and sincere apology because I nearly wiped out the front of your car in the carpark at the bottle shop this afternoon.

You came in one entrance and you were turning left and I was coming in the entrance beside you, but also turned left, therefore nearly turning on to your car. If you hadn't stopped it would have made for a large disaster for our insurance companies and my wallet. I am deeply repentant for the fright I must have given you.

Normally I would leave this letter here; with my promises of my heartfelt regret and shame at being such a foolish driver and with a large shadow of doubt looming over my confidence in my driving skills. However there was something I saw on my way out of the carpark which urges me to continue.

After buying my vodka and slow-crawling my way out of the carpark with my driving confidence shattered, I glanced at the two lanes where the near incident occured. As I looked I wondered to myself, "Why would any decent carpark designer put two in-lanes right there next to each other anyway?" It was then that I saw it; the 'do not enter sign' on one side and the 'exit' sign on the other. I looked at the lane I had entered through and saw that it was indeed the carpark entry. Then I looked at the lane you had entered through. The Exit Lane. That's right. You were in the wrong lane you dumb fucker.

I am not going to berate you on your driving skills (except for the aforementioned insult which I feel, after an afternoon of considering whether I should hand my licence back to the Transport Department and turn myself in as a terrible driver, is warranted) and I'm not going to harp on about how you nearly wrecked the front of my beloved Roger (car).

I'm merely going to hope that your ignorance on the subject of motor vehicle manouvering doesn't get you mashed under a truck one day.

Yours sincerely,

BuzzChild

Am I but all alone?

I don't know how this has happened and I'm not quite sure what it all means, but I think I am the only person in the world who has formed a strictly negative opinion of wedges.*

Normally I can handle disliking current fashion trends; it makes me feel hip and totally ahead of the cool kids in so many ways. But wedges keep coming back to haunt me; they were, from my recollection of footwear fashion, in a couple of years ago, and now they just keep coming back and back and back. Research tells me the design was invented way back in the 1930's by Italian designer Salvatore Ferragamo. These facts, and this hurts me to think it, lead to the belief that it may be that wedges never go out. It may be that wedges are a footwear classic.

So why can't I get into them? Sure they're the comfortable heel; safer than a stiletto, with far less pressure on the heels, and they've developed that nifty way of cheating the height of the heel by actually making the entire sole of the shoe wedged. They are the high heel shoe that always looks casual; it can be worn to the shops, beach, park, movies and all the other places where it would be inappropriate to wear full on heels but you might desire a bit of extra height. However none of this is in any way making me want to bung some on my minute pair of clodhoppers and prance around town half a foot taller than usual. I look at wedges and all I see is chunky ugliness. Let me give you some examples.





Fundamental flaws:

• There is a big ugly chunk of textured material where there should've been nice open air and a sexy view of foot arch.
• From the front, when standing on an appropriately sandy coloured flooring, wearer would appear as if they were levitating because of deceiving big chunk of unnecessary ugly textured woven material stuff under the toe. This would make friends and family of wearer secretly fear that they were going insane or misguidedly beginning worshiping wearer as form of floating deity.
  
• The top parts of these shoes (the bits that aren't covered in the gross material) would've actually made much nicer, normal shoes with an appropriately coloured normal heel and wearers would not appear to be wearing hulking boxes of mat-weave strapped to their feet.

Example 2.

I have nothing to say.
Except
Why would you want to walk around all day on a big chunk of mauve rubber?? I don't understand! But somebody must, because people are buying these shoes for no less than six hundred and thirty-five dollars! American!
And I'm sorry, but those things look really painful. No heel support. At all. It'd be like constantly walking down a very steep hill. God forbid you encountered sloping ground throughout your daily travels.






These devastate me. They may be the only animal print item of clothing, footwear or accessory that I have ever been close to liking. That is, they would have been with a cute little kitten heel, or tall, sexy stiletto, but the wedge covered in the same print turns them into complete overkill. I keep looking at them and sighing tragically, wondering if somehow I could access them and doctor them, somehow removing icky wedge and inserting quaint patent black heel. But, on a winner, they don't incorporate the hideous wedge platform underneath toe style to the foul degree seen on some others.



LOOK! The designer of this shoe KNOWS how hideous a full undershoe of faux-wood material is and they've CHEATED and cut a hole in the middle! But why didn't they go the whole hog and take out that couple of centimeters between heel and toe? While they were at it they could've sliced off half an inch under the front and ended up with something that in the end resembled a semi-reasonable piece of footwear! The shoe in itself would still be rather ugly, but much, much improved. It's people recognising their mistakes, and then doing a half arsed job of fixing them like this that makes the world a crappier place. Anger!

And finally...




I asked the opinion of a good male friend before posting this, thinking that if there was anyone else out there who was appalled by the foul wedge phenomena they would probably be male. He sent me this link http://junojvana.com/blog/category/wedges/ with the accompanying note; "These are gorgeous". Fuck. The web article is titled Ridiculous Baroque Wedges Mui Mui. Please note the appropriate use of the word ridiculous. Underneath the item is written,

"These baroque wedges from Miu Miu are totally over the top. Do you have the balls to wear them?"

What? You recognise that the shoes are hideously over-decorated and appear that they should come with a statement from the manufacturer renegging resposibility for wearers' high danger of falling and incurring spinal damage, and then you dare readers to wear them? What kind of friend are you Juno Jvana? What kind of blog do you write? Blog for the sadistically cruel and manic footwear psychotics?

Plus, when I googled wedges for images these were in the top row of pictured results. Therefore the trusted friend to whom I crawled for advice put no thought into my dilemma and merely chose the first avaliable link. Lame.



On last count I owned twenty-nine pairs of shoes. This would seem excessive except for the fact that my feet haven't grown for many, many years and so most of the shoes have been collected carefully over time. I also have ridiculously small feet, meaning shoe sales are my heaven with racks and racks of discounted items nobody else could squeeze into. I've chosen each pair with love and consideration and, most importantly, I wear them all. But I do not own anything with a wedge, nor can I forsee any of this style ever gracing the ever crowded shoe compartment of my wardrobe. But, with my mother and sister both sporting fancy new wedged shoes, I concede that I may, in fact, be a mutant with zero taste, as wedges make it onto the shop shelves season after season. By expressing my views on wedges I mean not to insult you if you own any (which of course you do, because everybody in the world bar me is totally into and on top of this craze) but I'm merely trying to understand. Teach me, and perhaps I will come to love the wedge.**

And so I leave you with this question:

Wedges: Indescribably ugly or gods most beautiful footwear creation?

Let me know what you think. Especially if you're of a like-minded opinion to myself. We'll have a shoeless tea party.

BuzzChild


*We're talking about the shoes here, not the crispy, goody hotness, covered in gooey sweet chili sauce and sour cream type potatoey ones. Those I love.

**It'll never happen. They're hideous.

Rar! I'm a big scary vampire!

I was going to start with
Hey Bloglings!
It seemed cheerful and slightly condescending. Which is what I'm into at the moment.

....

Let me explain. I'm creating a Theatre piece, the only directive for it is, at this stage, the quote, "Everybody is Hideous". What I'm looking for is stories. I'll be scoping some out in my hometown, but I thought I'd give the big world wide web a shout out too. Got any stories of people being hideous? Any ideas or anecdotes would be most appreciated, and I'll credit you and make you famous.*

So, onto other news, guess what I'm doing today with the fabulous Cupcakes?
We're hanging out in a cooly airconditioned mac lab at university, on our holidays, trying desperately to burn DVD's. Why? Awhile ago we had an idea to write a short film about the bittersweet prolonged encounters with the waiter at our favourite coffee shop. We were then set the task of creating a short film for an editing class we took last semester. At that point we realised that to apply for government funding in our fair country it was preferable to have entered a film in a film festival previously. And so, being big believers in killing many birds with one measely pebble, we set about making our first short film; allowing us to make the film we'd always wanted to, for assessment (meaning we could use uni resources for free) and then bung it in Tropfest, a world renowned short film festival. So far we've accomplished the first two, however today we've gotten quite a bit stuck on getting the correct formatting to enter in the festival. We've been here for five hours now, with about an hours break when we went to chat to our lecturer. And get told how to format it. And it's NOT WORKING.

We're nearing the end of our tether, getting dangerously close to the last straw, a wee bit frustrated, spitting frogs....

We're going crazy.

Wanna see?

The good thing about mac labs at universities is that they have funtimes photo software and webcams.






Oh yeah.
This is why we're alive.

We're gonna go to the gym now.

bye bye
BuzzChild and Cupcakes

*There are no guarantees in showbiz kids. I hereby forfeit all responsibility to make you famous.

Questions, questions

2009. A new year, a new start, for many the chance to renew faith in their ability to stick to both old and new resolutions. I like New Year's. I really do. I like the hope everyone has for at least a couple of days each annual that things will be better, I enjoy watching the past year's events montages on TV because I am, if anything, a reminiscer at heart.

I read this BBC report asking correspondents what they were looking forward to, fearing and forseeing for 2009 and the person they most wanted to interview during the year and it seemed like such fun that I've decided to play along.

What am I looking forward to in 2009:

• I graduate this year, so I get to move away from where I am, all by myself, and it's the most fucking exciting thing ever. You'll hear more about it closer to November, I can guarantee.
• Obama going in, Bush going out.
  
• Going cruising all around the South Pacific in February, the biggest holiday I've been on since I started the tertiary study and the major drain on my savings fund.
• The potential of the next three hundred and sixty days for the world to get it right.
  

What I am fearing:

• The impacts of the latest goings-on in the Gaza Strip ( I couldn't find an unbiased news report to link you to, but it's pretty much crap and children are dying)
• Swooping birds. I have a thing called swobhia. Fear of swooping birds. Pretty much self explanetory. People with swobhia often seemed to get swooped more than those who run carefree under the wings of attacking winged creatures. It's not scientificly proven, but I know they can smell fear.
  
• Graduating, moving away and fending for myself. It's fucking scary.
  
• The potential of the next three hundred and sixty days for the world to get it wrong.

What am I forseeing:

• Obama finally brining about some positive change.
• China rising steadily as world superpower.
• Increasing numbers of people being diagnosed with swobhia as it becomes a recognised and respected phobia.
  

And now for my favourite...

Who would I most like to interview:

Well, now this is a challenge. Of course, like most of the journalists asked in the article, I would love to go a few rounds with Barack Obama. However, in this would be the distinct possibility that I would lose my battle with burgeoning desire and hasten to jump his man-bones the minute I entered the door, resulting in my beginning karate chopped to a pulp by Whitehouse Security and no doubt bitch-slapped by dear Michelle, a woman who I respect not only for her impressive man-nabbing talents but also her seeming goodness at life, no matter what dress she wears.
So it's a no, Obama, though you do fight hard for my affections.



Who else?
There are a few; people who I've idolised for life - think Oprah, Nick Earls, the creators of Gilmore Girls; people who inspire - designer Allanah Hil, Josh Pyke, again Obama fits well here and Nathan Hudson, lead singer of the band Faker, simply because anybody who can dance like that is an inspiration (seriously, see them live). He's also a little bit beautiful. Here's a pic.


(He's the one in the cute little party hat. Though they're all a bit of adorable, aren't they.)

Then there's the people who I just want to say, "Why?" to. Kevin (five percent's a wee bit of a copout, don't you think, Kev?), Michael Jackson, the god-boy who used to serve at my hot chocolate hangout of choice, who promptly left halfway through this year, a fact from which my daily world-viewing has been much lacking ever since...

But I've settled, from all the possible candidates, on a lady I am regularly entertained by in many media forms, who possibly is the person I would like to be. I should mention I verge dangerously close to stalking her, and although being stalked is not something the lady-in-question altogether minds, I scare myself a little.

Here name is Marieke Hardy. There are many credits to her name, the ones that have touched me being:

• she writes for the ever-wonderful Frankie magazine. Her comic interludes regularly have me laughing out loud in public places.
  
• she co-wrote the aussie tv show Last Man Standing of which I was a great fan.
  
• she is the author of the wonderful blog Reasons You Will Hate Me which won a Weblog award in 2008 (She has sadly stopped writing, however with four years of posts it is well worth a read)
• she is an announcer on Triple J's breakfast program, a radio show that I listen to roughly five mornings a week on my commute to university.

All of the ways which Marieke has permeated my life remained unconnected until recently, and so it's all a bit Marieke-mania at the moment while I tell myself it's not fate that the four seperate women I look up to are actually the one woman, just proof that I am consistent, and that she probably won't be turning up at my house for gin and tonics, agreeing to be my mentor and or life partner.

All in all, this is her, the lady who wins the prize of being my interviewee wish for the year:



Now let's all hope that she doesn't google herself, ever again, and come across this site.
I'll blush.

Well,
that is all of my predictions, hopes and wishes for the year that is to come.
Please do play if you've any interest, this has been a very fun post.

xx
BuzzChild

Square Eyes

I have a headache. It's the dull kind of pain the begins at the top front of the forehead and stretches around to the back of the skull. Of course this is all self inflicted from a lazy day beginning at around eight a.m. of television watching, which was followed by excess computer usage involving reading, typing and watching movies and including only a little driving time to the shops as a rest from the pixels for my overworked eyes. This, combined with an extreme lack of water and the decision to not wear my glasses, has caused the discomfort.

....

I could continue here on a completely self indulgent rant about how, even though my head pain is caused by my own retarded and lazy self, I deserve copious amounts of pity. However, being the first post in a blog, this might alienate all potential readers. So I'm gonna shutup. And drink some water. And stop staring at the goddam screen. Before I end up looking like this! (I already have the haircut)