Never Gets Old

I was totally bummed when I realized that I had tickets to see Janelle Monáe perform live at the Sydney Opera House on Sunday night, mostly because I usually would have stayed home and thrown a Eurovision Party.

Thankfully, the days leading up to the Grand Final give you a preview of even the countries that are so awful that they don't even make it to the last night, so I'm still across the awesomeness that is European 'culture'. Forget museums and ancient ruins, THIS is what Europe is all about in the 21st century:

Romania - So it's not particularly noteworthy, however it is a classic example of Eurovision in that it consists of a hot chick in a short/non-existent outfit singing a nonsensical song (have accounted for the English translation). Poorly. At one point she sits on a drum and I actually thought she might be mocking people in wheelchairs. And given the song is named "Mandinga", we should probably just hope she's not being racist. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FGNmRkYZkk4

San Marino - Who says a Eurovision song can't have an important message? Apart from the fact that this song is about Facebook, I love that the subtitle is actually "Oh Oh Uh-Oh Oh". Here's a hint - if the subtitle of your song is both meaningless and makes me have to think about how it would be pronounced, you're not making it past the semi-finals. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y7IoR_5HPQ0

Ireland - I despise the phenomenon that is Jedward, but it's their second year in a row at Eurovision and they're at least good for a laugh. What amazes me is that these two claim to be straight, despite all evidence to the contrary. I mean, why bother? Somehow I doubt anyone who buys their albums could possibly have an issue with homosexuality. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e1cuimKLNpU

Russia - Last, but not least, we have the Russian Grannies, who I assume most people would have heard of even outside this contest. They're around 70 years old (but look closer to 95), some don't have teeth, and they sing dance music while BAKING ON STAGE. In case you haven't heard it yet, I give you "Party For Everybody".




And before you worry, I've already put Eurovision's 2013 date in my calendar to ensure that there's no way I'm missing it again next year. 'Party For Everybody' at my place, y'all.

I'm Fabulous. But I'm Evil.

I may be barrelling towards my mid-thirties, but let it never be said that I can't turn a professional work environment into the next instalment of Mean Girls at any age.

Related: DO NOT PISS ME OFF. Especially when you're stuck sitting directly next to me for the foreseeable future.

Foot, Meet Mouth

Zander: Ugh, the bar at this charity event is a DISASTER. Seriously, how can anyone manage a bar this badly? You'd think this place would have a clue what they're doing.

Friend: Zander, this is my friend Amy. She's the events manager for this bar.

Zander: Oh. Hi.

Aussie Aussie Aussie!

I love how the majority of the time that Australians get international attention, it's for something really stupid and immature. Like this:

So Classy

As one of the inaugural events in my new apartment, I decided to have a few friends over for what I billed as a Champagne Breakfast. The deal was that I would cook up a meal, and each of them would bring a bottle of champagne at 11am on Sunday, and we'd all be super civilized. To be quite honest, it mostly worked. After an insane amount of food and a bottle of champagne each, we were all warm and cozy and full of laughs.

Where this all fell down was when I decided to finish off the evening by heading to the pub for a few beers. While I certainly didn't get overly debaucherous, I can confirm that I woke up in my underwear on my couch around 9.30pm with empty Indian food containers nearby, possibly drooling on myself.

We have decided to avoid thinking about how this would have turned out if Juice had been able to attend, but we're pretty sure there would have been tequila with our scrambled eggs.

Good News or Bad News?

The bad news is that I am so pathetic these days that I had to leave work at 3pm yesterday so I could go home and take a nap. Otherwise I wouldn't have had energy for dinner with friends at a really good French restaurant.

The good news is that I live in a country where this is not only acceptable, but encouraged. My boss actually asked me why I was still here at quarter to 3, when I was clearly really tired before midday.

Now if only I'd been able to use that sort of leeway to spend that time at the pub. The younger version of myself is seriously unimpressed.

Not The New Favorite

Had a pretty chilled out weekend, despite my best intentions of getting hammered - at my age, the constant fear of hangovers really puts a damper on a big night out.

So on Friday night, I decided I shouldn't drink too much white wine, because that would be a guaranteed hangover. Beer would be the same. And so, for some reason, I decided to try a "Paloma":

For anyone who remembers 2004 (I certainly don't), my drink of choice back then was vodka and grapefruit juice, so chosen because grapefruit juice apparently inhibits your liver's ability to function and therefore allows you to get insanely blackout wasted in far less time. Well the Paloma consists of grapefruit juice and...tequila.

No, I have no idea what's wrong with me either.

The Real Cure For Jet Lag

It was true 2 years ago, and even in my old age, it's still true now. You can avoid alcohol and caffeine. You can take small naps or just force yourself to stay awake until a reasonable hour. But the only real way to beat jet lag is to have a little too much to drink and let the hangover win out in the end.

It is 3.24am, but I am already looking forward to some serious alcohol intake after work. It's the only way.

April? No?

Nice, I managed to skip an ENTIRE MONTH of blogging. Not quite sure how that happened, but at least one valid excuse is that I spent almost half the month on vacation in NYC and Chicago.

While there were plenty of laughs and drunken moments, it's amazing how much my trips home have changed in the last 6 years. In 2005, they involved drunken karaoke, partying until 5am, and all the usual dumbassery that I'd left behind when I moved to Australia in the first place. This time, I definitely spent two afternoons of my trip hanging out with Fry and her 6-month old baby, and at least two other friends are pregnant. Intentionally!

So yeah, end of a golden era. Although I will admit that when I woke up with some lower back pain halfway through my time in NYC, I did consider the possibility of kidney failure because I'd been drinking so much. Carrying the torch, you guys.