Hamlet Text Adventure. See, this is why I hate these games: I get stuck. I’m stuck on the damn balcony talking to the ghost and I can’t get off. I even tried jumping off and eating the bat.

This is the post wherein I MAKE KELLY MCMAHON’S YEAR: a complete video archive of SNL’s Celebrity Jeopardy. Too bad I can’t get Windows Media Player to work on my computer… (Link courtesy of geek fu.)

In an incredibly unbelievable (but also strangely fateful, it would seem) twist, I won a skein of sock wool in the Give a Little Katrina Appeal. Should make some nice socks to donate to one of our Guild group’s charities…

Holy crap! Hiroyuki Sakei, the “Delacroix of Japanese cooking,” is coming to SYDNEY?? I’ve already sent in my contest entry. (Link courtesy of Amy, who’d also kill to go…)

So I ran over a dead wombat…
No, really. That was the only traffic-related incident of the weekend, though, so I’m going to chalk this one up in the “Win” column. We got into the Blue Mountains pretty easily Friday and made our way to the Melaleuca Chalets. As soon as we stepped out of the car, we noticed that it was frickin’ freezing. Mountains are cold, yo! At Reception we figured out that we were the first arrivals and picked up the key. “We’ve got the fire going in your chalet,” the owner told us. SWEEEEEET. And there it was, perched up on a hill: the Rosewood Chalet, also known as the Cutest Accommodation Ever. It was this tiny wooden cabin with a wood stove, kitchenette, double bedroom, bathroom, and kids’ room with bunks. Oh, and cable TV. We were in heaven. And get this – there were kangaroos all over the property. They’d just bounce right up around your cabin. How weird is that? A really big one hopped out near the resort’s driveway and I nearly drove off the road. It’s like staying in a zoo!

The rest of the gang arrived not long after us and we all got ready for Steve’s wedding. This is when tragedy struck – I felt a telltale tingle in my lip. The stress of getting my license and planning for this trip gave me a goddamn cold sore! I spent the next eight hours frantically rubbing Zovirax on at every opportunity but it was all for naught. That’s why I didn’t take any pictures; I was a horrible scabrous leper the whole time! (Not really, but I’m still gonna airbrush any pictures the other guys send me.) Read on for the rest of the weekend…Okay, the wedding. I offered to drive a group down in our rental car, not realizing that I’d end up doing blind hairpin turns in mist and rain both up and down a friggin’ mountain (and at night, to boot!). The ceremony was held in Cathedral Cave, which required fifteen minutes of climbing steps, ducking down passageways, navigating very short tunnels. (The sight of old people spelunking in evening wear is one I’ll never forget.) The cave itself was beautiful, though I have to admit we were disappointed that Steve and Kate didn’t take advantage of the high ceiling and rickety ladder to attempt a “bride rappels in from above” entrance. We all stood and watched as they exchanged their vows, tying colored ribbons on each other’s wrists and swapping rings. Afterwards we made our way back to the Chalets, hoping to glug some champagne before the reception. The rain and the darkness contributed to some missed turns though, so we barely made it there before the bus came to pick us up again. Then it was over to Duckmaloi Park Lodge for the reception festivities. Many hours and bottles of champagne later, we crashed back at the chalet and huddled as the loud mountain wind tried to blow the roof off.

Saturday started late (as you might expect), and after breakfast there was some debate about what to do to fill the afternoon. Many were in favor of a cave tour, but the Snook and I passed in favor of more metrosexual delights: a three-hour session at SpaRadise. (Rodd’s co-worker Hank went there a few months ago and recommended the place.) This is when the Snook decided it was time for him to take the wheel. He did really well! Once we got there we relaxed in the indoor hot-water bath; we sucked in eucalyptus in the Herbal Steam Room; and we enjoyed a few moments of sunshine (and an incredible rainbow) in the outdoor hot bath. The Snook even waded into the cold water pool a few times, though I couldn’t stand it for more than a couple seconds. We each had a half hour massage too, and I’m happy to report once again that the Asian masseuses are all about my ass. Because you know you were wondering.

Saturday night we got dressed up for the Bollywood Dinner Party and the Snook did some very creative facial hair manipulation. (Other people took photos; I’m sure I’ll post one.) I went overboard on the eye makeup in the hopes of distracting everyone from the second head growing on my bottom lip. We were pretty wiped out though, so after partaking of some of Steve’s yummy, yummy curry, we headed back to the chalet for some rest. We closed out the weekend this morning with a huge group pancake breakfast and a stop off in Leura to visit the world famous Candy Store. Fueled by Jersey Caramels, Sherbies, and Nutter Butter Bites, the ride home to Sydney just flew by…

And there in the bedroom window was our adorable Puss-Puss, waiting for us to come home. Big thanks to Amy and Rob for stopping by to check on her…

What? Oh, right, the dead wombat. That was this morning on our way out of the mountains. The sun was finally shining and I was admiring the scenery and thinking how relaxed I was with my driving and how wind-y the road was and how I felt like I was in a car commercial and wondering what song would be playing in the commercial, when suddenly Rodd went: “Wombat.” and I looked down to notice what looked like a big-ass rock at the side of the road right before we THUMPED over it. “OH MY GOD, I HIT IT!” “It was already dead,” he said. Still, that’s the first wombat I’ve seen outside the zoo and I defiled its carcass. I was really bummed out… (until we got to the candy shop).

White-knuckled terror
In over five years, this is the first time I’ve ever been in a car the Snook was driving. Love means trust, folks!

Easy Rider
Driving on the M4 towards Katoomba. No accidents yet!

Well, we got the rental car safely across the city and back to our place in the middle of rush hour traffic, so perhaps my driving skills aren’t as rusty as I thought. The whole “turn signal on the right” thing is my biggest problem at this point. I keep flipping on my windshield wipers instead. The Snook says it’s okay; everyone will just think I’m a Volvo driver.

FINALLY!

Check out what I finally got today! No thanks to the incompetent jackasses at the Indiana BMV, who officially win the award for most backward-ass government office in the history of the world… But, bygones. More importantly, what’s up with my hair there? In my defense, it was 9:30 in the morning on my day off and I’m sick as a dog.

In case any of you non-Aussies are wondering, the big flower in the middle is a waratah.

Jelly Yarn. The mind boggles. (Link courtesy of not martha.)