LeishBlog

Where is home for you? Is it where you are sitting now? Somewhere you lived 10 years ago? Your childhood house? Or are you yet to find it?
I think that’s the category I fit into. I am not just talking about a space or a property; I mean somewhere that you belong.
In Melbourne a couple of weeks ago, I visited a ritzy home ware shop that sold $60 tea light candles and played wanky cling clang music. I browsed only moderately interested until I stepped into a back room of the shop. It radiated the energy that I wanted in my home. It wasn’t all of the stuff that was being sold, perhaps it was the light, the smell, the colour, but I felt like I could sit down in one of the extortionately priced comfy chairs and live there with that feeling.
This weekend I ventured south to my ‘home’ Hobart. My Dad has returned from a work trip to Antarctica and thought it would be a good time to catch up.

So much in me has changed since I left the island I struggle to connect with it. I had a meeting with a film funding body that is offering a grant for an emerging producer. It’s a great opportunity, on paper I suppose. Part of the deal is living in Tasmania. I knew as I sat in that meeting, even with my enthusiastic attitude that I would not be applying for that grant. That I had spent all of last year trying to connect with Sydney, meet new people, finding my job, trying to be me. It’s been a hard road but I am there. I have climbed the plateau of all the shit and I am in the position to see that stepping backwards into familiarity is not the path for me.

At the same time as I was contemplating my connection with Hobart, in Sydney Justin was at an open home checking out a potential pad for us to share.

My time in the Macca cottage is drawing to an end, Sarah moving in with Dave and Mick moving into to Dave’s old flat. That leaves little old me to find a new ‘home’. Justin is a great friend and also is looking for a flat, good timing. I suppose it is a bit weird, him inspecting our possible future ‘home’ together but I a part of me thinks fuck it, as long as it is clean and neat, I will make it my ‘home’ maybe I am not ready for a real home maybe I need to share that with someone I am dangerously in love with, maybe that is what a real home is about. Don’t get me wrong I have enjoyed living with Sarah and Mick, they are great. But I suppose the house is somewhere that I live, watch movies and eat. I don’t feel a huge emotional connection to it.

Princess Nicole proudly showed me a hard cover book the other day and exclaimed. When I have a home I am going to display it on my coffee table.
“Why can’t you put it out there now?” I asked
“Well, it’s just not right,” she answered clutching the book.

And I got what she meant. I’ve got stuff like that, that haven’t left boxes that might not for years to come.

I wish I could capture that feeling from the shop again. What made me so at ease? Maybe I should live in a shop.

Remember the scene in the Labyrinth where she is sitting in her room, well it wasn’t her room, it was a fake version of her room that had all of her stuff in it, it wasn’t her real home. I feel a bit like that about finding a ‘home’. It’s not bad it just isn’t quite right.

I love David Bowie. What a dude.

I hope we get the property. Justin said it has nice floorboard and clean white washed walls. Very North shore and posh!

I always find the Easter weekend bizarre. Everyone freaks out because the shops are shut on the Friday and you see people overfilling their shopping trolleys like it’s the apocalypse just because they won’t be able to consume for one day. Most Good Fridays in my memory have been rather odd, a bit lonely and sullen. They are usually DVD days, sitting around and being lazy. Even with the rush I seem to neglect shopping and end up eating toast and wishing the Thai place down the road was open and that I could buy an ice cream, all things I don’t need but I really want when I know the facilities are closed. I do remember a great Good Friday shared with my friend Jack and Hayley where Jack, a lifelong vegetarian ate chicken for the first time. That was pretty momentous. What a dude.This Easter weekend I headed North to Hawks Nest, my favourite family holiday destination were I have spent many a summer, getting burnt, flirting with boys and having a jolly good time. A large proportion of the family tribe were also spending the weekend there because it is my Cousins Belinda’s 21^st birthday next week and we thought we would have a little get-together for her.
Big Kids, even  so we still got eggs. Super Yum.One of Belinda’s birthday requests was that we go out in the boat water-skiing. This is somewhat of a tradition, well it was when we were kids, but most of us hadn’t water-skied in years (for me it’s been about 6 years).  
Waterskiing Hotness…….good lord that wetsuit is revolting

It’s funny how easily that you can convince yourself that you have retained skills from the past. I remember myself being a pretty confident water-skier, standing up easily, pulling off some sweet moves, so when it came time for my turn on Sunday after watching Belinda ace it, I thought I would be pretty good.  Turns out I am delusional and it took me a few goes to get my shit together. I am tough, I don’t usually give up but on my third attempt I could feel my stance widening, my legs, instead of being hip width apart splayed out like I was doing the splits.
My brain was saying“Just let go, bail out, I don’t see anyway to redeem yourself, this is only going to end in tears, let go, let go, let go!”But being stubborn I thought I could simply bend my knees and ride it out.What a tool. I felt all my muscles in my legs pinging, giving up and tearing away.  How sad.
 
Trouble……doing ok then the beginning of the end.

The rest of the group didn’t pretty well, Claire skied like she had been doing it for years and bloody Trent, got up in a couple of goes and as usual did very well! After lunch I had a better ski and then when my legs gave up completely we bought the old board out to have go with that. My Uncle Paul pushed my arms and the boat to the limit as he put the peddle to the metal, swung the steering wheel and sent me flying behind the boat and as he turned, parallel beside the boat. I held on. Quite determined to be good at something that day and it worked. I think I could have a career in wake boarding. Might look that up.
 
Birthday Girl

Belinda’s party was great, it was a black and white theme, were much food and wine was consumed. I was so full by the end of it I lay in bed that night, my muscles aching, and my tummy protruding, like a starving African child, but the complete opposite, a piggy Australian girl who ate too much chocolate fondue, and cake.  (That was a terrible comparison.)  Heading back to Newcastle yesterday to catch the train home, Claire and I got stuck in the end of Easter Weekend traffic where we observed many bogans with their 4wds stuffed with kids bikes, camping gear, inflatable boats and eskies. All that stuff for a couple of days. We crept along for about 40 minutes not saying much, just staring at these people. Their kids chucking mega tantrums in the back seat while parents looked frazzled like they were going to flip out. What a nightmare.  This morning I awoke and felt as if my body was made out of lead. When I rolled over I heaved like an old man trying to get out of a chair. What have I become?  A bit of intense excised and my body just gives up? Am I getting old or just lazy? Christ I hope it is the later. I did my morning walk, bumbling along like I had just gotten off a horse, a force field of pain circulating through my inner thighs. Sarah observed last night that I was walking like I had something “shoved up my arse”. I am thinking that would be less uncomfortable that what I am feeling now.     

I was just on Amazon ordering a copy of my absolute favourite show at the moment (Lost, you are my ultimate favourite) 30 Rock. Tiny Fey is amazing and I have downloading this show but I think it is time to shell out some coin and own it properly.
Anyway nodding off.
What I was going to say was I spotted this thing called the Kindle.

It totally blew my mind and I thought I might have just stepped through a time portal because this thing is like a portable book computer from the future that you can download, books (more than 100,000 books are available) newspapers and blogs. Man it’s tiny but I don’t know if I like it or not ( It costs $400 and it was released last year).

At the moment I am reading Max Brooks stunning novel World War Z. It’s a must read for anyone interested in zombies, what would happen if a contagious disease or plague spread through our little globe and anyone that likes a bit of gore. Anyway as I often do, I was reading last night and I have a tendency to fall asleep while still holding the book. Even though I am unconscious I can wake up an hour later still clutching the book upright and attempt to continue reading. I like that about books, I like the musty smell, I like dogging the pages up (Mick I won’t do this to your book, I promise) I like lugging them around in my handbag and reading them on the train. I like checking out other people’s books, judging their social status and intelligence levels from what book they are clutching. I love wandering around book shops especially the big ones like Borders that let you read for hours and no one asks you to leave or pay for things. I like judging a book by its cover and reading the blurb. All of which things cannot be done with a computer from the future like the Kindle.

Now I am all for technology, BlackBerry, ipod, laptop, I’ve got them all, but it is going to take a hell of a lot of convincing to get me to give up the humble book.
In it’s favour I do like its Blog friendly technology and that books are cheaper to download and I suppose with this we will be getting pirated books to download… instead of people downloading illegal Britney Spears tracks maybe Ben Elton and Ernest Hemingway will be on the black-market. Nice, I think perhaps that should be encouraged.

I have had quite a reclusive week, being on holidays. Besides going to the dentist yesterday where I felt as if he might have drilled into my brain, I haven’t really ventured out too much which is very unusual for me. In an effort to save coin and also with a heavy amount of self-guilt I have stayed home to write and also practice comedy. I have been successful on both counts which is great but I am looking forward to a heavy night of socialising with the Princess tomorrow as we celebrate the beginning of the Easter weekend with a very non religious booze up at the pub.

Lastly today I was very lazy and while eating my lovely sandwich at lunch I started to watch (really watched the whole movie under the pretence of ‘just another ad break) Wonder Boys, which stared Michael Douglass and a very non zombie Katie Holmes, pre Tom, pre lobotomy and when she had a decent potential acting career. Bless. A moment of silence for a talented young woman taken from us before her prime.
Read this, it’s great!

When ever I can, I try and have a kip in the day.  I mean it should be compulsory. The only problem is I have the terrible habit of waking up and freaking out, momentarily convincing myself I have slept right through the afternoon and night and think it is the next day. Every time without fail I look at my watch and my heart skips a beat in panic as I wake from my lazy mans day sleep.  

I was disappointed today to find that the nice chocolates that I got in Melbourne that I decided to consume as a sneaky mid afternoon indulgence had melted together in one massive block. Soph and I left our bags in the car while we were at lunch and it was about 39 degrees so I suppose it wasn’t a big surprise.  It also wasn’t too surprising to me that I broke my own wanky never going to happen ‘let’s make an effort to be healthy rule’, and like a desperado I clutched the melted mass and took a bite. Well it serves me right because they were soft centred chocolates and  flavours such as lemon truffle had mixed with peppermint cream, Dark Chocolate Grenache and Wattle Seed Crunch, leaving them to taste like a big pile of mashed up crap.  I was one of those scenes that I would have been terribly embarrassed if someone had caught me in the middle of.  I had purposefully not purchased anything indulgent as a way to kick start the proposed healthy vibe but when that 3 o’clock boredom sugar craving set in I lost all sense of what was deemed socially acceptable and just went for it. What a load of bull shit. I need to develop self control.
This is why I do not do hard drugs. 
(Is that the only reason why you don’t own a crack pipe you ask? What about the children and the drug mules and crime?)
 Yeah….. Whatever. 

After indulging in our favourite Thomas Street Café breakfast (yep defiantly stuck to the heath kick yesterday) we went shopping with invisible money. Princess Nicole had a list of things to buy and I window shopped. I was nearly convinced to purchase a number of lovely items that advertisers would say make me more attractive and desirable to the opposite sex.One top in particular I really liked but was quite titty and as I modelled it I said to Nicole.

 ‘I don’t know, it’s nice but don’t you think it’s a bit slutty..’’
(Pointing to my exposed bosom)  

Princess Nicole:
‘Leish you act like your cleavage is the window to your soul, for Christ sake stop being a prude and get them out!’ 

That was the quote of the day. Nobody beats her! 

In the evening I attended a fabulous Soirée at Soph’s house, a pizza party. I must say the company was top class and we all got to knead it up with the pizza dough. There were some delectable flavours created and again the healthy eating challenge was broken.  

While we were sitting around towards the end of the night, the topic of my Raw Comedy routine was raised. Being a total prima donna I lapped up the attention but there was also a part of me that didn’t really want to tell that story. I am sort of done with all of that. I also get this slight alarm bell sensation when telling guys about all of that, feeling like they might be evaluating the situation in the wrong light, like I may be may be either vindictive and bitter, which I am not or a wannabe wife, looking for a replacement groom, which sort of horrifies me.
Anyway everyone laughed along and I am sure no one got the wrong impression and if they did, it was well hidden!I think though that story may have had its day and I shall no longer be telling it in social situations particularly when there are eligible guys I would kind of like to impress.

Ok with that I am done. 

I had to laugh when I checked out my LeishBlog stats today and I saw that someone had been directed to LeishBlog by typing in;  How do I know if I have super powers?’
Now that is a very good question, but I do not know if I can answer it.
Maybe you do, maybe you don’t.
Can you bend spoons? Do you find yourself hovering above the ground? Do you find that kryptonite is a little bit like MSG, it just doesn’t quite agree with you?  Hav you perhaps overindulged in the TV show Heroes? I am guessing so.That’s about all I can offer on the super powers front.I hope the inquisitive person who may or may not have super powers stuck around to read LeishBlog. I had a couple of triumphs this week. The first was finally convincing my esteemed boss, Nick to read LeishBlog. He regularly bags out gen Y, facebook ad blogging but I have stood my ground promoting LeishBlog with a passion.
One of Nick’s routine sayings to me is,
‘Ah go Blog about it’
Anyway much to my delight, he read the blog, raised his eyebrows a bit and has now offered to write a guest blog for me. I can’t wait to see what it is going to be all about! I had a great time in Melbourne this week.We shot the final ‘Out of the Question’ show for this series and we are all very excited about the second series coming to your screens later in the year.
We had a little party which was fun and included a round of ‘put your hand in the ice’ game which I refuse to participate in because I am a baby and don’t like the agonising pain that this game causes. The game is what it is; you put your hand in the ice bucket and see how long you can last. I did participate a couple of weeks ago and I think I hit the 30 second mark before  removing my hand in anguish and performing a very unflattering windmill motion to get the blood circulating again.  This particular ice session involved five people all standing around, beers in hand being very casual about it. Sophie, the reigning queen left the game at about the 7 minute mark, where Nick and Deb held out for 15 minutes….mental! They ended up agreeing to both leave the game at the same time because the audience was bored and ready to go home having decided that there would be no carnage or frostbite to witness. 

The ice plunge

Ice Hands

Soph’s frozen red zombie hand

Casual victory

I sat with Tony Moclair at the studio record (he is usually on the program) and we had a great time deconstructing my questions with me asking him whenever Glenn asked a question.  
‘Would you have got that one right?’
Quite randomly Tony asked me 
‘Do you enter competitions?’  
I said  
‘Of course, religiously and I am very excited because I have been clipping coupons from The Australian every day for their Luxury holiday promotion. I am sooooo going to win it!’

Tony cursed. ‘Damn you McCormack! I have too….I knew you would be into that stuff…..I  just want you to know that I will be bitter if you win.’
 
And so will Tony, so will I.  LeishBlog has received it’s first celebrity endorsement. Sure it was made under duress and I work for him but I got it anyway!  
 LEGEND!
Friday night after some pep talking at work I have decided to throw myself right back into my stand up comedy practice. After watching the final of extras (sad episode but brilliant) I stood in front of the mirror with my hairbrush practicing. I always feel like a twat but it has to be done. The cat looked at me with suspicion and then sat preening itself and licking it’s arse as  I recited my routine. Hope that’s not the general consensus of audiences in the future. I am now on two weeks holiday. Which includes a trip to Hawks Nest and the Melbourne Comedy Festival. Soph and I are heading south to catch as many shows as we can fit in and afford. It should be brilliant.

 Later 

In January Princess Nicole and I had a chat about Easter. We were going to go on an adventure as we both had 5 days off work! How exciting. I remember a conversation where an organised LeishBlog said,

LeishBlog:
Babe, remember everyone travels at Easter so we should book something soon!!
Princess Nicole:
Yeah, yeah babe, we’ll find something, relax!Ok, well if I check my magic calendar, I find that Easter is next week and up until yesterday Princess Nicole had a nifty way of shrugging off my inquiries about our travel plans by saying;
Princess Nicole:
Babe, it’s in the pipeline.
LeishBlog:
What and where is this pipeline that you speak of? And is it going to lead to my Easter holiday?
Princess Nicole:
Trust me babe….the Pipeline… I told you!
LeishBlog:
Ok well I am setting a cut off for this Pipeline of yours….Monday!

During Princess Nicole’s pipeline explorations I had figured out a lovely plan B and that is heading up the coast to hang at Hawks Nest with the family, get the last beach visit of the summer in and celebrate Cousin Belinda’s 21st Birthday. When I told Princess Nicole that the pipeline cutoff had been reached and that she should pack her bags for the NSW coast, she said….

Princess Nicole:
No babe, trust me I have wonderful plans…
LeishBlog:
I want to see them in writing.
Princess Nicole:
Ok babe….aloha!
LeishBlog:
What does that mean?
Princess Nicole:
It means Hello in Hawaiian
LeishBlog
No, I know that but what does that mean to me?
Princess Nicole:
Get your swimmers babe, we are going to Hawaii!
LeishBlog:
Are you kidding me?
(I knew she wasn’t)
It is going to cost a fortune and it takes 13 hours to get there, that’s most of our holiday time just there!
Princess Nicole:
Babe it is on sale I know how you like a bargain!
(She was right there)
It’s cheaper than driving to Byron!
(That is a gross exageration)

Now I love a spontaneous adventures, packing my bags, taking off, doing crazy things…I went to Japan with a weeks notice in December. I jumped a plane to Tassie with an hours notice last year but Hawaii next week? Shit man, my credit card quivered.

Momentarily deluded I then changed tactics, knowing that the Princess Nicole liked the finer things in life; I suggested we were better off going to Asia and staying in a classy hotel for cheap and spending our days buying designer rip offs and having discounted manicures.

LeishBlog:
Babe in Malaysia you can stay in a 5 star hotel for $50….5 star! I know how much you like luxury!(That got her!)
Princess Nicole:
Yeah… but it is not my dream…
Bum.

Yesterday on the plane I nearly created mid air carnage due to a douche bag, business suit sitting next to me who clicked his pen incessantly for the entire flight. I don’t mean a couple of times, I mean;

click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack

Pause

click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack click clack

I won’t bore you with the other one hundred and fifty thousand times he did it during the hour we were in the sky but I am sure you get the idea.

Usually flying back from Melbourne after a studio shoot it is an excellent time to grab a lovely nap. As I’ve said before I can sleep anywhere but I am always slightly paranoid of dribbling in public and that horrible stage of sleep when your head lulls around like the corpse from weekend at Bernie’s and lands on the passenger next to you shoulder. but I had no sleep on this flight due to the pen clicking rage within. I became fixated on the pen, his stupid face and the horrible repetition. The horrible thing about the pen-clicking guy was that in the heat of my infuriation I used a number of devices to attempt to convey to him the level of annoyance that he was causing me. I sighed, cleared my throat and death stared him which horribly I think he took as a possible crack on. Seriously guys, if a chick is staring at you, appearing as if she could remove your balls with a plastic airline knife, she doesn’t want to sleep with you. I thought about all of the cool, non psycho ways I could ask the guy not to click but I got the impression, looking at his cufflinks and is smug uber tanned face I imagined him telling me to ‘get fucked’ or something mature and I would be shocked and too scared to come up with a witty retort and then have to sit there for the next hour, hearing him clicking his pen and feeling humiliated. Another subordinate moment in a usually confident life.

I am sorry to harp on about it but this guy is what I consider the bane of society and should be exterminated. Note to self add: Smug pen clicking shit with cufflinks to ‘dead to me list’.

Today I had a migraine at work. Nothing-unusual there. I took some Codeine, which usually solves the whole unbearable pain thing but it makes me all vague and go into long distant stares. This can also work to my advantage because I appear to be in deep in concentration but really I am just off on another planet.

The Hair

Lastly I purchased some hair from the internet…..some hair from the internet you say?? Yes well after all of the talk about hair extensions with Princess Nicole and talking to Cousin Belinda who has a set of excellent hair extensions from the US, I took the plunge and ordered some! Yes I know it is extravagant and perhaps a tad creepy seeing that it is real human hair but I like shaking my head and feeling someone else’s hair flowing down my back…….ewwwwe. But I do think it looks pretty and it saves me being patient and waiting for my own hair to grow. Lazy but true.

Right well, I am going back to drugged out distraction.
Ciao