Hello Possums

Caught in the act- well not quite - enter the resident possum family. These litte buggers live in the palm tree behind my back balcony. The late night visitors love to play tricks on us. Their favourite is sneaking into the apartment and chowing down on our bananas.

I have to admit they are very neat and leave the skins in a neat little pile on the bench top. They also like running along the fence in the middle of the night.

Shaking the Maracas

The crotch watching event of the year is here (bar Mardi Gras - natch).

Tonight I will be zeroing in on the tight white pants painted on Hugh Jackman who will frolic around the stage.

Don't despair - I'm leaving nothing to chance and will be there binoculars in hand with my eyes on the prize.

Yes, it's all very gay and frankly that's the way I like it.

Champers all round please!

Cock or Sock?

I got 8 out of 10 correct!

http://www.cockorsock.co.nz

Speaking of I'll be getting an up-close and personal look at Hugh Jackman this week when I go see the "Boy from Oz." Tres excited about seeing him leap about in those tight white pants.

Spanish GYCO

Today was the Spanish Quarter Festival in Sydney and I have to say I am loving Spanish men at the moment. Absolutely adoring the cute accent - just sounds better with the lisp.

I sampled some Spanish sausage (not the kind your thinking of), sipped sangria and admired the sights. Yes, there were a few Gael Garcia Bernal look-a-likes. Yum.

(Cher forget the Italians- were going to hit up the Spanish Club when you get back.)

Spring is in the air and it's GYCO season.

I'm going to sleep while this is all fresh in my mind.

Good Head for Radio

New York has been postponed so I'll continue as a Sydney resident for the next year before jetting off to my new and fabulous life in NYC.

Big changes have happened during my hiatus and I've chosen to go multi media (it was an obvious next step really.)

Be prepared for a hot radio show starting in the next few months. Pre-production is under way and word is that Ms Cherry Banchele will be joining me on air upon her return to Aus.

Stay tuned

MIA

Currently MIA. Will be back once I've located amongst the clusterfuck.

Standby

Baby Don't Cry

The role of the 8-month pregnant wife will NOT be played by Lush.

I had my first TV audition today. The audition seemed simple enough - crying on cue. Walk into the room, hit the mark, and breakdown after hearing the news that your husband has been murdered. I practiced in the mirror last night and early this morning - it was believable.

But push came to shove in the room and there I was at 8am and I was not sobbing uncontrollably. Needless to say I am not expecting a call. Damn, I was rather looking forward to wearing the pregnant suit on set too.

Real Life Drama

I've been accepted into drama school in New York City!

Thanks to Sexy Clefty for helping me with my monologue. Why is it in situations like this I always seem to feel like a fraud?

I'm awaiting the official confirmation and visa papers but it looks as though i'll be in NYC this September (assuming I don't freak out and stay in Sydney .)

This move is a mere 6 weeks away.

What the hell did I get myself into and how will I be able to pull this off?

If you know peeps in NYC please contact me as I'll need a cash job as soon as I land. Something to pay my bills through drama school and is flexible.

Why Buy the Cow When...

In my torrid search for new flatmates something off-centre has happened and twice in the same week.

A girl showed up to meet me and check out the apartment. She texted me after saying she was keen to move in so I offered her the room. Okay that's fine BUT the thing is that she immediately started campaigning for my friendship - telling me how cool I was - how we should hang out - go for drinks - asking me if I party - do I want to work on her TVS 31 show?

What?

I thought this was a one off thing and agreed to meet up with her but then the same thing happened again tonight. I offered the room to another girl who also said she was interested in taking the room and she too turned it down but wouldn't let me off the phone because she was telling me how much she wants to hang out with me, go for coffee/ dinner, etc.

What? What?

Seriously - the apartment is fabulous so what the hell is this situation? Is this the Real Estate equivalent of "I don't want to date you let's just be friends?" or am I the slutty extra-realtor affair you are simply not willing to commit to?

Frankly, I really don't know what this means. Actually I do, it means that the hippy is moving in. Sod it.

The Hippie v's the Banker - Game On

I constantly get myself into jams, wonder why, then proceed to ignore the situation I have created by pretending that its not happening. Sooner or later I arrive at a point where I absolutely must deal with it.

For ridiculous reasons that made sense at the time the decision had to be made, I have agreed to allow a hipppie and a banker to move into the apartment . What the gunt was I thinking?

Well, I was loosely following the advice of my current roomie, Delta, who suggested that I not choose potential friends but rather select people who would be easy to live with. I am not one of those 'laid back' people that are described in the sharehouse adverts. I am more like one of those 'eccentric' types some may say 'high strung' but clearly they are the laid back types.

The thought pattern was somewhere along the lines of not wanting to get attached to the new people that would in the long run make it easier for me to leave. With this in mind I went for the quiet, chilled, and bland type of people who are very unlike myslef - in an attempt not to clash of course. What a dumb dumb dumb move this was.

The hippie chick is now constantly calling me asking weird questions about vegetarianism, incense and oil burning, parking and the philosophy of the council on the matter, meditation, the overall vibe of the apartment, and the appropriate hours to play her drum that she insists I won't be able to pronounce the name of.

The banker on the other hand has developed an instant hatred for the hippie who he has never met. Granted this is probably due to my mentioning of the incense burning and even more idiodic mention of the word hippie. IDIOT.

So, we are all having a rendevous on Saturday afternoon at which time a further decision will be made about the suitability of the hippie. What a stinking mess I have created.

Delts - for the love of Sexy Clefty - please stay!

This Song Shits Me

"I wish I Was a Punk Rocker With Flowers in My Hair."

Sandi Thom - do you even know what you are singing about?

Here's a news flash for you:

PUNKS DON'T WEAR FLOWERS IN THEIR HAIR.

I like the tune, I like your voice, I don't mind the song but my issue is that you don't really want to be a punk rocker you want to be a hippie.

Punks are a counter-culture formed in opposition to hippies. Hello? Green mowkawks, safety pins through their faces, black nails, the Sex Pistols, anarchists. Think the true London punks of the 70s, for quick reference even think the "Young Ones" but not for one minute should you think flowers in hair.

Admit it Sandi you really want to be a hippy don't you? It just had too many syllables and you thought that no one would notice if you slipped "Punk Rocker" through. WRONG .

Red Card - I'm Out

Sexy Clefty,

Even though I saw the signs, I refused to believe it was true but now I know. I got it - Loud and Clear. "You are just not that into me."

The red card you gave me last night was harsh but inevitable.

Yes, I still think you are amazing but I'm not going to pretend that my freshly manicured nails and I aren't shattered. We are.

I will get over this and when I do we'll cross paths again at which time I hope you eat your heart out.

Achtung Baby!

Sexy Clefty you have officially earned a yellow card for your performance or lack there of on Saturday evening.

You have one chance to redeem yourself on Thursday.

I'm not just 'holding hands' with this idea of a date I intend to 'shag it'. Your words - not mine.

Please know I have a time limit on the amount of time I can work on you. Stop playing with me and give it up.

If I do not get an indication from you on Thursday you will be awarded a red card and can fuck off!

Love,

The Venomous Bitch

Confessions of a Clusterfuck

The story of the personal trainer just doesn't seem to end.

One of my old crushes seems to have surfaced in a very public way. My former personal trainer, who I was totes in love with, has landed a job on an evening Aussie soap. It was bad enough when he was on commercials and I had to watch him being the Solo man but now he'll be on a nightly show for Australia and the UK to view. It just seems cruel.

I may have already told you the tale of the unfortunate event of the ticket debacle that ended up with me drunk in a bar in Paddington with him and his acting teacher. In short I was a bitch and still feel bad about it. So I did the only thing possible: avoided him at the gym. Quite a few months later I chose another personal trainer. This time I carefully selected a female to avoid another messy scene. Wouldn't you know that the person I chose was his ex-girlfriend who he lived in NYC with for a year while going to acting school and doing modelling. Ha ha go figure.
I'm sure ill probably have another encounter with him in the years to come.

In an effort to have good karma I sent him a little congratulatory e-mail but I'm not holding my breath for a response. Thank God his number has been deleted from my phone, I just can't be trusted. ...

Aww, he is rather charming and good looking. Best of luck hottie.

Spinster or Lesbian?

I guess the fact that I'm single must finally be blatantly obvious to the rest of the world and not just myself. Little reminders have been popping up everywhere of late. With my 28th birthday pending these reminders are becoming more frequent. Ding, ding, ding. I hear you loud and clear...Now even strangers seem to be bothered by my seemingly horrific circumstance.

I swear I was simply trying to be friendly to these two Irish guys on the bus. They were pleasantly chatty so I thought I'd kill 10 minutes and humour them with my charming personality but somehow right after the requisite "are you from Sydney?" the conversation plummeted into this:

I: How old are you?
L:How old do I look?
I: 25
L: I'm 28 but thanks
I: Are you married?
L: No
I: Engaged?
L: No
I:If you don't mind me asking are you a lesbian or bi-sexual?
L: Why? Because I'm not married or do I have a certain look?
I: I just thought that at your age...

I'm leaving it there.

Park my foot up your Arse

I would like to thank the Barina driving psycho who stalked me in the car park today during my lunch hour.

Thank you Asshole.

Thank you for getting out of your car and following me into the shopping centre while screaming at me for taking your park. The best part was when you did the hand actions showing me a car moving into a space. I never would have knon what you were talking about without the visual assistance.

Since you are such a considerate retail citizen and obviously so mindful of the of shopping centre car park etiquette. I would have thought that leaving your car unattended in the middle of the car park to inform me of my wrong doing would go against everything you stand for. This actually caused a much larger traffic jam and in fact inconvenienced dozens of other motorists not only yourself.

Did you not notice that I got out of the passenger side of the car? Do I just look guiltier than the person who got out of the drivers side and was walking next to me with the car keys in hand?

I deny all involvement in the matter of who has the right to the freaking car spot. I was a mere spectator caught up in this debacle. Fellow driver, it was a matter of equal timing. Yes, a coin toss or quick game of rock- paper-scissors might have been a fairer way to sort out this unfortunate event but a decisions had to be made and fast.

I hope you sleep better tonight for having educated me on the proper proceedings at Westfield. Thank you again for stalking me. Better luck next time!

It's Semi Official

It's official so not only has Delts decided to move out but so has my Brit roomie. Am I getting a bum rush here? Probably. But I just don't have the energy to get another two peeps in to the apt (even though it's tres fab and with a great view) so I'm going to give up the lease. I have to keep saying this out loud to make myself believe it. One more time for my benefit "I am going to give up the lease." I have exactly one month tomorrow to sell all my furniture, pack up my stuff and move out. First I have to actually give notice to the Estate Agent. I know this but the physical act of doing this seems to be rather difficult for me. I guess this is because this is the longest i've lived in one place since 2000. Giving official notice is the hard part, the reality check, the not backing out of this is actually happening part of the deal. Just breath...

Clefty: Are you Gay if NOT are you Single?

Sexy Clefty remains hot hot hot. We had our one-on-one session merely a few hours before my short-term relationship with the inside of a toilet bowl began (it lasted 4 days - not fun.)

So what at the time was a pending illness might have had something to do with my acting like a complete diva/knob/complete idiot in Clefty's presence. I've got another hot session booked with him this week - we're working on my d-school audition monologue. It's do or die time. Shit or get off the pot Clefty.

Okay, i'll admit that my Bridget Jones moments of ridiculousness and insantiy need to stop. This is something out of my control. But I have to say that my recent nightmare in which I discovered he was gay did not help. Say it aint so Clefty! Help me break free of the shackles that are my cock dodging ways.

Guest Blog- Ms Diva

This guest blog comes from a former roomie of mine from when I lived in LA. "Diva" and I were interns together and have been friends for more than 5 years. We've had loads of adventures in LA. In show business these kind of events are frequent and really are an occupational hazzard. Love your work Ms D...

Okay Lush so one of my old interns pulled strings for me to get into the hot Studio party- how funny is that. The whole "intern" thing really does come full circle. So, I get in and all the peeps from PRISON BREAK are doing the red carpet so I'm hanging out with work friends and we're all drinking cocktails. Keep in mind this is right after work so no dinner - they do have dinner there but I don't want to eat - for numerous reasons:

1) I don't want food in my teeth or gas or anything like that

2) I don't like to eat while hundreds of other people are looking beautiful and walking around

3) There wasn't a nice table to sit down at

So you can see where this is going: FREE Liquor, no food, celebrities, and I'm hanging around with a co-worker that gets me in trouble when we hit up the town outside of work.

After the peeps from the show are all done with the red carpet they scatter -some to the bar - some to the food - some to their friends.

Wentworth goes straight to the other end of the soundstage where the president of the Studio is introducing him. I make buddy with "Haywire" (real name: Silas) from the show - he was standing by himself. I told him I thought he was fabulous and I enjoy his "work." He thanked me and we chatted uncomfortably for a few minutes before I left him.

I'm on drink #2 now - it's only been an hour. My friend Jess is chatting it up with a guy who's a prisoner - forget his name - anyway, he's hitting on her telling us to go to the Four Seasons afterwards. Cool. Now I feel really cool - just got invited to the after party at this pseudo-Celeb's hotel room. This calls for drink #3.

Meanwhile, my friend Brandon is also doing quite well with his drinks and is drunk already - doesn't take him much - I find him outside chatting up one of the actresses from the show. I don't recognize her at first - but I sure did after her conversation with Brandon (B) that goes something like this (picture a drunken gay "Diva-acclaimed-him-to-be-a-queen" boy) hitting on a hot female actress (FA) - because that's how it went down:

B: So I'm going to tell you - I don't watch the show at all - but I know who some of the people are - and I don't know you.

FA: I'm the girlfriend to (forget the characters' name).

B: Diva - look at her! Isn't she hot!!!??!!

D: Yes, she's beautiful Brandon.

B: Well, I've never heard of you! Are you like an extra or something?

FA: No, I'm a regular

B: Really? Are you sure? Do you guys having acting tiers at Prison Break or something?

FA &D: Huh? What?

B: Well, c'mon are you a B or C list actor because you're not an 'A.'

(Yes, he straight up called an actress "C-list" - something you NEVER call attention too.)

D: Okay Brandon let's go.

B: But Diva she's so HOT! Look at her is she not the hottest person you've ever seen?

(Wanting to say she's not that HOT but after what he said) :

D: Yes, definitely.

At this point she's beginning to get freaked out and wants to get away, I can tell.

B: Can I get my picture taken with you?

She is freaked and reluctantly agrees. Brandon continues to tell her how hot she is - she is totally weirded out (she thinks he's hitting on her) then finally he says,

B: I'm gay I can say these things to you.

I finally get him away from her - meanwhile - there are a number of other work people who have witnessed this debacle.

Definitely onto drink #4

The work peeps and I hang out, talk, whatever...then I spy Silas (aka Haywire) over by the bar - again, by himself. I decide not only do I need another drink but Silas and are going to be friends. We're even going to be friends after this party.

I bring him to the table and no one says a word. NOT ONE WORD. They stare at him after I introduced him - oh and I mispronounced his name! Yep - it was the most uncomfortable situation in the world. He obviously felt as uncomfortable as I did and then he left.

So despite the whole Silas thing - I still get into the party and everyone knows me; people are stopping me to say hi. One of the actors invites me (well, via Jess) to his hotel. I have 5 drinks in me with no dinner - I'm feeling no pain...

The night however is winding down and people are leaving; I've got a good buzz going and then B and I realized we haven't met Wentworth yet. How is that possible? We met and shook hands with everyone but him.

We spot him. We go to him and the gaggle of people that surround him - he can't even take two steps without someone asking for a picture with him. And then out of nowhere I have an opportunity and I seize it. Wentworth leans in to me and gives me "that look." I shake his hand and tell him I think he's great and then proceed to make an ass out of myself and tell him how he met my friend in a New York Starbucks and she was so happy about it and so I just had to come to this party to shove it in her face and how good looking he is...

Everything I did NOT want to ever come out of my mouth DID...

Brandon then - and thankfully - interrupts and starts talking to Wentworth. B demands that Wentworth get picture with him and that I take it - so I do. Then my balls grow back and I ask Wenty to get a picture with me as well - he says sure (very humble man.)

Brandon can't get the phone working or whatever so it's taking what seems like forever- so long in fact that I realized:

"I'm SQUEEZING Wentworth Miller's BACK FAT!"

Yes, how embarrassing is that.

So then Brandon see's the pic of Wentworth and me and decides he doesn't like it and we need to do it again. Wentworth the poor thing just stands there. THEN the Studio publicist turns to me and says very rudely "That's enough. He has to go now" I look at Brandon - I'm embarrassed - Brandon looks at me and is about to pitch a fit like a two year old. I glance back at our publicist - I take the picture anyway - Brandon's kind of happy. The publicist says to me again "That's enough!" I then, with my holier than art thou attitude (that had been building through out the night) proceeded to say:

"Excuse me...do you know who I am?" (Oh yes I said it!)

He responds, "Yeah, you're Diva." Before sharply turned taking Wentworth with him. I stood there dumbfounded at what I just said and did.

Oh, did I mention the guy I said this too was also an executive - not only a publicist but an EXECUTIVE and the president of the studio was standing there as well along with other "suits."

Brandon, giddy after meeting the man of his dreams, and me stupefied, truffle on out the party with everyone else. By this stage Jess's too drunk to go to the hotel/other after party. I have to drive Brandon home as he was not invited plus I wasn't going to go if Jess wasn't so I went home.

Yeah, I haven't been back to a Studio party since but it's only a matter of time till I get back on the horse. As you like to say. NEXT!

Standby

Things have been manic. I've even had to attend a mandatory educational seminar on the bird flu pandemic. I'm now the proud owner of one of those sexy surgical masks previously modelled by Michael Jackson. Word is that we should be expecting the emergency gel any day now. Hmm, the seminar was educational but not practical so I doubt there will be a gel application demonstration. Damn Gina.

My former LA roomie is cooking me up a delicious blog on her unfortunate evening spent at the cast party of 'Prison Break.' Yes, she is also a lush so there is lots of celeb goss mixed with cocktails. In the meantime I'm playing tour guide to a friend from London for the weekend.