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Oh good grief. My little blurb in the Fashion Police section in the SMH is up, and I sound like a lunatic:

Forget acupuncture, hypnotism and patches – they’re so five minutes ago when it comes to quitting smoking therapies. Craft enthusiast Kris Howard is calling all smokers to enrol in her very worthy Knit and Quit classes. An AA-style support group, it enables smokers to learn a new skill while sharing their trials of giving up nicotine. “Once you get into a rhythm your brain zones out and focuses on the here and now,” says Howard, who asks only that participants, just like the lightbulb, want to change. Classes are free with materials supplied by Patons so there’s no excuse. From August 9 for four consecutive weeks. 6pm-7.30pm, Tapestry Craft, 50 York Street, city, 92998588, www.tapestrycraft.com.au.

Okay, first off, I told her that it was definitely NOT an “AA-style” support group. We’re not gonna make anybody stand up and identify as a smoker, and there are no steps or reliance on Jesus or anything. It’s just a knitting group. And secondly, this makes it sound like the whole thing was my idea. Lady, a MARKETER came up with this. I’m just teaching the class. And lastly, out of everything I said to her, that’s the bit she chose to quote? I sound like a stoner.

Books I’ve Finished Recently:

– March by Geraldine Brooks. This one came highly recommended – both by Mary-Helen and the folks at Kinokuniya – but I have to say I’m a little conflicted about it. On one hand I think it’s a great story, well-told and engaging, and the author’s conceit of filling in the missing “grown-up” parts of Little Women is cleverly executed. (Almost too cleverly; I found myself ticking off each expected plot point as it occurred: the parents’ courtship, the Marches’ lost fortune, Marmee’s temper, Aunt March’s feud, etc.) Brooks is unflinching in her portrayal of the Civil War and the moral conflicts faced by those abolitionists who took up arms. Yeah, I wept when I read the message on the silk scarf, and I was surprised at how the happy ending of LW was changed into something completely different here. But for all its good points… it’s fan fiction. Really good fanfic, but fanfic nonetheless. I kept thinking back to the horrible The Wind Done Gone and the salacious Mr. Darcy Takes a Wife (especially with all the unexpected sex). *shudder* Are they really giving out Pulitzer Prizes for exceptional achievements in fan fiction now? Because the Harry Potter slashfic geeks will be ALL OVER THIS.

– Comet in Moominland by Tove Jansson. Yeah, Snookums has already read this one to me as a bedtime story, but I fall asleep and I miss parts. It was nice to go back and fill in the gaps. Man, I just can’t get enough of Sniff! He’s definitely my favorite character (followed closely by the Hemulen). “Five horrible experiences. It’s beginning to be monotonous!” I like how Sniff is always screaming and running after shiny things.

– Batman: Hush by Jeph Loeb. I absolutely love the look of this book. This is what comic books should look like. That said, the story was a bit hard for me to get my head around. I can tell from the way it’s structured that many of the cameos, in-jokes, and references were gifts for the hardcore fans (who no doubt loved them), but with my limited knowledge of Batman canon most of them went right over my head. (For example, I’d never heard of Clayface before so his appearance was really confusing for a while.) But man, the look of it! Great hulking heroes and ass-kicking voluptuous babes… It was worth it just for the visuals. (And for Supes getting his butt kicked. That’s always a bonus.)

– Ultimate Spider-Man (Volume 1) by Brian Michael Bendis. Meh. I didn’t love this one so much. The vivid cartoony style just doesn’t appeal to me a lot. Is this the way Spidey has always looked? So gangly and Disneyfied? I know it’s just the origin story, but right now it reads like Spider-Man meets Saved by the Bell. Maybe I just prefer darker stories…

– Y: The Last Man (Volume 1) by Brian K. Vaughan. Like this one! A mystery plague wipes out every male on the planet except for one guy and his pet monkey. And oh yeah, his Mom’s a Congresswoman and this girlfriend’s somewhere in Australia. The artwork is okay – not visually arresting like Hush, but not too distracting to the narrative like Ultimate Spider-Man. (It took me a little while to work out that 355 is actually female.) The writing is awesome, really well done. (I like it when comic book characters swear.) I was wary that the concept would get boring and cheesy, but I got sucked into the story really quickly. And the violence! Those crazy Amazons, cuttin’ their own boobs off. I can’t wait to see where they go with this…

I need a cigarette (smoker).
Any unembarrassed Sydney smokers willing to do a little media whoring for me? Stupid publicist wants to run a piece in the SMH about this “Knit & Quit” class we’re running, and they want to have a picture of the class… before it actually runs. So we need a smoker willing to fake wanting to learn to knit for a photo shoot. (I told her I knew plenty of knitters willing to lie in print, but she shot that down.) I honestly don’t know any smokers anymore; they’ve all moved to London. (Seriously.) It would likely involve coming down to the shop in the next day or two for a picture, and possibly giving a quote with your name. Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?

Another Click Survey, this time more abstract. I like seeing the surprising patterns of where people clicked.

Edited: I had the URL wrong!

Another interesting one from AskMetaFilter: What would women wear if men didn’t exist? I disagree with the commenter who was insulted at the assumption that all women dress for men. I think it’s quite obvious that we do. Even if you honestly, truly don’t care what the world thinks of you, every bit of clothing you own is part of a fashion culture designed by (mostly) men for hundreds of years. Just try to find a pair of women’s jeans that don’t emphasize your bum or your hips, I dare you! So yeah, if all the men disappeared tomorrow I’d live in my sweatpants and T-shirts… but if they never existed in the first place? Who knows what we’d be running around in. (Sports bras. Definitely sports bras.)

Natalie friggin’ Portman as Anne Boleyn? I hope they at least give her six fingers.

Huh. What the hell does the “LCM” in Kellogg’s LCMs stand for?

Everyone told me that Melbourne was just going to be a Shopping Mecca, and they were so right. I mean, just look at Snookums there! He looks like he stepped right off the catwalk in Milan. (Damn, I do like to put that boy in funny hats.) Photos at the bottom…

Seriously though, I liked Melbourne a lot more than I expected to. People kept talking it up, telling me that it has so much more ART and CULTCHA than Sydney that I was fully prepared to retch from the pretentiousness of it all. But it wasn’t bad, really. It was just different. I liked the wide, straight streets; I liked how easy it was to find your way around; I loved the trams. We had glorious weather, mostly sunny and not too cold. Our hotel (the Vibe Savoy) was lovely and super conveniently-located. (And as mentioned before, they were great about moving us when the heating in our original room failed. While I may have exaggerated a bit about the new room, it was on the top floor and had a king-sized bed. So that was nice.)

We mostly played the weekend by ear. We got in early Friday morning and dropped our bags at the hotel for a wander. We tramped all over the place! We must’ve seen the whole CBD (and a bit beyond). Lunch was burgers and beer in Fitzroy. After checking in and having a bit of a nap, we headed out to the ‘burbs to meet Crumpet and Mr. Crumpet (and a couple of their friends). We had a yummo curry with chocolate pudding and ice cream for dessert. (This was not a Fat Fighting weekend.) We had a lot of fun playing with their dogs and swapping Retail Tales of Horror.

Saturday we got up early to hit the zoo. We like zoos. Melbourne is definitely one of the best I’ve been to. The signage could use a bit of work, but the landscaping and the design were great. Then it was back to the city for our lunch at Flower Drum. But first, we stopped in at the Queen Victoria Markets, which is where Snookums honestly debated buying this hat. (He didn’t.) I got some shoes though. And then it was over to the restaurant, hidden in an alley in Chinatown. Oh my goodness… I can only thank Michael for recommending it. We told our waiter that we’d been told to just ignore the menu and go with whatever he thought was best, which seemed to be a common request. We started with three seafood dim sum each: crab, scallop, and prawn. I had been a little apprehensive – still with the seafood phobia here – but I needn’t have worried. They were fantastic. The next course was an even bigger challenge: crispy fried whitebait on a bed of fried enoki mushrooms. Five years ago, that dish would have been my KRYPTONITE. But you know what? I loved it. (Mushrooms and fish? Somewhere my Mom is falling out of her chair.) The fish was all about texture: the crispy salty exterior giving way to delicate flesh that melted in the mouth. I devoured it. And the mushrooms? If the waiter hadn’t told me what they were, I’d have thought they were deep-fried noodles. Next was the Peking Duck served pancake-style. I’ve had this before at crap London restaurants, and this was a whole ‘nother universe. The duck wasn’t shredded; it was a whole slab of succulent breast meat with the usual plum sauce and green onion. But get this – there was also a bit of melon in there! I can still taste it. Lastly was a grilled fillet of beef on Asian greens with special fried rice. The beef had been seared black on the outside but was so soft and rare on the inside… Heaven. Despite the fact that we were pretty full, we let ourselves get talked into dessert. I had the deep-fried ice cream; the Snook went with almond jelly and fruit. What with all this food (and the approximately 17 pots of tea we drank), we positively waddled out of the restaurant…

What was I talking about? I think I went into a little food-memory coma there. Anyway, as you might expect, everything after Flower Drum was a little bit of a letdown. We went back to Fitzroy for some alterna-shopping on Brunswick Street (didn’t get anything), then went back to the hotel to get dressed up for dinner. We’d been told to check out the martinis at the Gin Palace, but I found the place a little too self-consciously hip for me. It was like being in Swingers, hanging out in an underground bar with no sign filled with people trying to seem important. The G&T wasn’t bad though. Then we decided to kick it old school and head out to Crown Casino with the rest of the plebs. Seriously, half of Melbourne was there. I didn’t see a single casino in Vegas that was so packed with punters. We checked out the restaurants but we were a bit fooded out, so we settled for the food court. I have to recommend the big flame-spurty show along the riverside; it seems to go off every hour. Four or five big iron towers shoot massive fireballs into the sky in sequence. It all went downhill from there though. On our way back to the hotel we found ourselves in a crowd of drunken AFL yobbos on their way home from the match… and I suddenly remembered that “cool” “hip” Melbourne is also the home of Kath & Kim and Neighbours. It’s a baffling dichotomy.

Sunday we headed out to see the water at last. We caught the tram to St. Kilda and spent some time exploring the Artists’ Market along the Esplanade. (I had this song in my head ALL WEEKEND.) Snookums bought a cutting board and I got a fierce wrist cuff from Cybertart (as seen currently on DeskCam). I wanted to ride the roller coaster at Luna Park but it was closed for some reason. We walked on the Pier and said goodbye to the city. Then it was back to the airport and home to a waiting Puss-Puss. She didn’t miss us. (But thanks to Amy for checking on the ungrateful wretch anyway.)

Snookums and I outside the Royal Exhibition Building.

Unexpected street names crack me up. I also like how this photo sorta looks like a GIANT HAND is menacing the poor sign.

Me and the Yarra River. It’s not quite Sydney Harbour… It’s not even Darling Harbour, really. But where is? It’s reasonably pretty.

Me and Crumpet.

At the Melbourne Zoo.

Snookums tries on a funny hat.

Me on Melbourne Pier, looking back towards the beach.

Snookums on Melbourne Pier, looking out towards the Pavilion.

How much water do you waste? The Snook and I use about 85 litres each per day, which is much less than the national average in Britain. Of course, it helps that we’re slackers and we avoid doing laundry, washing the dishes, and watering the garden wherever possible.