Thanks for not smoking. I think. So, Melbourne just implemented its no-smoking-in-pubs law.

I have nothing but cognitive dissonance over the issue. I believe people should have the right -- not just to smoke, but to own and operate a pub where people are allowed to.

But man, it's nice to come home from a night out not reeking of smoke.

I so wish that market forces would have resulted in having some pubs that decreed no smoking, and that smokers could go off to their own pubs and mentholate their lungs to their hearts' content. In every city I've lived in, though, that never seems to happen. And so we get these laws.

A right has been lost here. And as horrible as smoking is, and as despicable as tobacco companies are, I don't want to say I'm glad about it just because I don't partake of that right.

There's a tradition in my family that whenever we would move somewhere new, I was always the first family member to need to visit the emergency room.

I kept this tradition alive since marrying, too -- in Singapore I had to go in for kidney stones. Well, today I got to visit my first Melbourne emergency room. Nothing serious -- I knocked heads with a guy on the soccer pitch and lost. Three stitches in my hairline at the very top middle of my forehead, and an ugly abrasion on my cheek. I think it's the first time in soccer that I ever went down and stopped caring about the run of play. Head wounds bleed, big time, so I as soon as I put my hand to my head, it came away covered in blood.

Luckily there's a guy on our team that used to do facial surgery. He set me up right, and got me on my way. I was in and out of the emergency room in just over an hour, and all covered by Medicare. I even was back to work the bar for the first team three hours later.

Today for my birthday Marjorie stayed home from work and cooked me a Thanksgiving dinner. How good is that? I skipped lunch just so I could make a bigger pig of myself. Turkeys are pricey down here but we get a lot of meals out of one bird. She invented a new dessert for the occasion, too -- she blended vanilla ice cream with Maltesers in the food processor and refroze. Yum!

Friday night we invited people from our respective workplaces out for drinks to celebrate citizenship. It was good fun, especially now that the pubs are smoke free. Marjorie led a quick "Aussie Aussie Aussie!" ("Oi Oi Oi!") cheer during a toast.

Sudden citizenship realization: we have a queen!

Aussie Aussie Aussie! Our nationality is now officially hyphenated. We had our Australian citizenship ceremony last night. Check out some random photos (sorry about the random ordering, but Flickr stupidly allows you to only create three photo sets for free, so those are retrieved by tag).

It started with the mayor reading a huge list of apologies from elected officials that couldn't make it. Then there were speeches from the two (besides the mayor) that did attend; one was Aborigine and talked about her ancestors, which was interesting. Then we did the swearing in, and the handing out of certificates. They pronounced my name as "Schitznius". *Sigh* We also got plants to plant, and a pin. Finally we sang the national anthem (badly).

There were maybe thirty of us who were getting sworn in, and surprisingly, twenty-one different countries represented. The ones I remember are: Vietnam, New Zealand, UK, Samoa, Poland, Singapore, Sri Lanka, South Africa. I think we were the only Americans this time around.

They signed us up to vote straight away. There were tea and sandwiches afterwards, but we went out for a nice dinner at The Dogs Bar (sans dog) instead.

To infinity and beyond! I never understand people who denigrate anything modern, and pine for an earlier time, when art was better. They miss out on so much. I'm sure people like that will have ancestors who will look back on our time as a golden age, and continue to ignore the great works produced in their own future time.

Today we checked out the Pixar exhibit at the ACMI. I'm a big fan of all the Pixar movies I've seen (and am looking forward to Ratatouille). Even without the animated exhibits, this would have been worth attending, just for the artwork. The skill involved in their storyboards, color sketches, and close up studies is plainly evident. Add in the brilliant characterizations, story lines, dialog, and world-building, and it's clear that these movies will be timeless. It's amazing also to see how much work they do and later discard. One quote they had posted gave an idea of what it must be like to work on one of these movies; they describe it as everyone involved holding hands and jumping from an airplane, and then building the parachute on the way down.

The highlight, though, was the zoetrope. This video doesn't quite do it justice but you get the idea.

Back in my old hometown of Atlanta, they're tearing down the old party district, Buckhead. While I long ago outgrew it -- well before I even left Atlanta -- I must admit I had some excellent times there, back in my post-college, new in town, swinging bachelor days.

But now is not a time for talk of such things. Today marks the nine-year anniversary of Marjorie and I's [*] first date. Happy anniversary, baby! She's all sickly though so it doesn't look like we'll be doing much.

[*] Surely "Marjorie and I's" is wrong? But "Marjorie and my" doesn't sound right either.

My company had its end-of-the-fiscal-year party Friday night, which I had an excellent time at (well, I'm almost certain I did). It was held at the bowling alley downstairs from our office, and we had a tournament. I bowled out of my skin all night (136, 148, 144, and 115) and ended up finishing fourth. It was won by our resident Olympian (he actually has a gold medal for playing on the field hockey team for Australia) who was a no better bowler than anyone but turned it on at the end, finishing the final round with three consecutive strikes in the final frame. I guess that's why he's an Olympian.

There was a company bar tab, which I overindulged on, shall we say. Marjorie came to join me later in the evening but pretty much had to just rescue me.

Bummed! I just went to buy myself an internet domain, only to find that it's already been taken. I had the perfect name -- schnitzi.us -- not least so that my email could have been mark@schnitzi.us, but someone just snagged it, only one month ago. That was my one and only idea for an internet domain. Phooey.

Weekend roundup: Friday night -- karaoke with some of Marjorie's work people. We signed up to sing The Pogues' "Fairytale of New York" which probably wasn't the best choice for the crowd we were in (who were doing all sorts of cheesy 80's songs). Fortunately or unfortunately, they couldn't find the song, so instead we ended up singing Pat Benatar's "Love Is A Battlefield" (complete with shoulder shakes like the video), which had more of the proper cheesiness. Good fun, and we even stayed out past one (shocking).

Saturday night Marjorie indulged my current Gilbert and Sullivan obsession by going with me to see The Mikado. Despite being a small production, we thought they put on a damn good show. Of course, they had to modernize it a touch -- Ko-ko's version of I've Got A Little List was sung about a list he was keeping on his palm pilot, and the words were modified to talk about people talking loudly on cellphones, for instance -- but all in all it was a very good production.

Middle Park's soccer woes continued again this morning as we dropped yet another game. We played very well but couldn't score as usual, and we allowed a late goal on a perfectly struck free kick to lose it 1-0.

Clean joke.

A talking dog goes into a hardware store and says, "I'd like to apply for a job."

The owner says, "Um, we're not really hiring right now. Why don't you try the circus?"

The dog says, "Why would the circus need a plumber?"

How eccentric was my last Saturday? I went and saw The Pirates of Penzance by myself, then went shopping for ukuleles, and finished the day drinking port and playing Balderdash at some friends' house.

The next day we went on an organized lagoon around Aitutaki's lagoon with Aitutaki Adventures. Part of the tour was showing us all the places where Survivor: Cook Islands was filmed. We never watched the show, but by the accounts we heard, the Survivor people were very conscientious and everyone there was happy to have them. (The tourists, maybe not so much, because they took every free room on the island.) The tour even started from a jetty that the Survivor people built for the show and left for the islanders.

The tour itself was quite amazing. We started just by stopping out in the middle of the channel, where very large turtles (not sure what breed) were popping their heads up left and right. There was no wind, and the water was exceeding clear, so we could see them swim by with no problem. We could also identify fish species easily twenty feet down, and also saw a number of giant clams. The lagoon is full of patches of coral that come up and almost reach the surface, so one must be careful navigating.

We stopped by some of the outer islands, and saw some nesting birds (red-tailed terns) that are apparently very rare. The snorkeling was great; we stopped in four different places, and it was all just a big tropical fish tank. The coolest sighting was probably a spotted eel. They had a big spread of lunch for us too, which was very nice.

We headed back to Rarotonga the next day, and rented a car. I had a tip that the place to buy a ukulele there is at the prison; apparently the prisoners make them. So we tracked it down -- it's not that big of an island -- and Marjorie sent me in by myself to inquire (how could she not be curious about a prison on an island in the middle of the Pacific?). But it was a bad tip; all they had was cheap touristy ukes. There was another beautiful one I wanted to buy that I saw on our first trip through at the music store, but we came back through for Saturday and Sunday only, when all the stores were closed. Phoo.

We did a brief hike up into the hard-to-find Takitumu conservation area. If ever there's a place to spot dinosaurs, this was it, but instead we only maybe spotted the rare Rarotonga Flycatcher that's endemic there; we never got a good look at it though. Actually, if you see anything other than a mynah bird or a chicken on the Cook Islands, you're doing okay; the birding was disappointing.

We had another great snorkel experience on our last full day, just picking a spot off the side of the road. For some strange reason, I had a posse of fish that followed me around the whole time, and swam in a circle around me. It was really bizarre. We have pictures of it, which we'll post eventually.

Arriving back in Melbourne airport, we checked our messages to discover that the repairs on our toilet were far from finished. Lovely. Just what you want to hear after an eight hour flight; that you don't even have a working toilet to go home to. That killed any happy island buzz that we had accumulated, in an instant. Our landlord arranged a hotel for us, that we soon came to realize was the dingy Bukowski-esque down the street from our first short term apartment here, that we used to walk by and make fun of. To give you an idea -- our dog Laika likes to roll in dead birds and fish on the beach. When we took her by the hotel she immediately keyed on one spot on the floor and started rolling in it. Presumably that was where they found the dead junkie. We ended up staying only one night there, but keeping the keys just to have a place to run to for a working bathroom.

It was Tuesday night we arrived back home; they finally finished our bathroom on Saturday evening. Do you know how great it is to have a working bathroom again? One of the many things we take for granted.

After the last post, things went from bad to worse, as the next day the rain just, did not, stop. We had planned to get up early but ended up sleeping in past noon because we could hear it pouring down. There was no let-up all day. Even the lagoon filled up with silty run-off. We just putzed around in town again the whole day, and went to bed with a combination of depression and antzy stir-craziness.

The next day we flew to Aitutaki. More rain was scheduled, but from the moment we landed there was nothing but clear blue skies and bright sun. (Cue choir of angels.) Our resort, Etu Moana, is gorgeous and lovely, and we're right on the water. They have free bikes and sea kayaks for us to tool around on. The lagoon is turquoise and clear and full of fish.

The air is so clear here that at sunset you could even see the clouds that were partway over the horizon. After it went down I could see the Milky Way for the first time in as long as I can remember. We went to dinner at an outdoor cafe, and a cricket landed on Marjorie. Her shriek was relatively mild, but I'm still counting it. That's four down, three plagues to go.

We went for a (hot) jog this morning and now Marjorie is getting a massage, while I'm blogging from here down the street. (My massage is later.) Tomorrow we are going on an organised lagoon tour. Our spirits, as you might imagine, are much improved.

Kia orana from Rarotonga! This is supposed to be the driest month of the year but it's been nothing but gray skies and intermittent rain for the day and a half we've been here. Luckily the place we're staying has internet.

On the way out we spent a night in Auckland, which wasn't enough to see much (especially since it was Sunday night and everywhere was dead). So we just had dinner at (this is sad) Wendy's (hey, they don't have them in Melbourne, and there's nothing particularly notable about New Zealand cuisine) and a drink at some back alley bar. I was glad that Auckland seemed to have a very different vibe than Melbourne, or anywhere else I've been for that matter; it's hard to characterise, and I don't know if it's particular to Auckland or NZ in general. We'll be back before long though I'm sure to give it a proper visit.

Rarotonga, even when sopping wet, is pretty cool. It's completely surrounded by a reef, and huge waves have been crashing into it as long as we've been here. There's a mountain peak overlooking us that we may try to hike up to. The Cook Islanders look just like you'd expect Polynesian people to look; the women in colorful dresses with flowers in their hair, and the men big and strapping. Sadly, the only birds we've seen are mynahs and chickens.

Today we took the bus to Avarua, which is the only town on the island, and the closest thing to a metropolis for 1000 miles in any direction. Shopped, ate, drank, had ice cream, and befriended a local dog who followed us around through the rain (so I had to name him Tom). Saw the ukelele I want to buy, which I'll get on the trip back. The stores here sell coconut bikini tops like from the musical South Pacific; I've told Marjorie that when we get to Aitutaki, that's all I want her wearing. She thinks I'm kidding.

Hopefully things will be clearer tomorrow so we can get our feet wet and see some proper fish.

Marjorie's not the skittish type, but three times already this month, she's screamed.

First there was the mouse incident recounted earlier.

Then, last weekend, she found a dead rat in the backyard. We don't know if Laika killed it or not, but of course it was me that had to dispose of it. At least it was dead and required no hammer.

This morning, on her way out, she discovered a large centipede in her purse.

That's three down, four plagues to go. Who knows what we'll encounter in the Cook Islands?

A murder took place in our kitchen last night: I was getting Laika's kibble out of the pantry when Laika lurched across the room, caught a little brown mouse in her mouth and shook him to death, all in about the span of 3 seconds. And while I'm not overjoyed that we had a mouse in our kitchen (our house is over a hundred years old, and I've never seen droppings anywhere) I was significantly more upset by Laika's hunting prowess. Mark and I were traumatised by the poor dead mouse and necessary disposal (including ensuring the poor animal was indeed dead, and not just suffering, which required a bag and a hammer). We're a catch and release family here, even with the big hairy huntsman spiders we find (though roaches, moths, and mosquitoes are shown no mercy). Now we're just hoping that Laika never manages to get a hold of a possum, as clearly she's not quite as inept a hunter as I used to think.

Down the street from us is the Rats of Tobruk House. Such an unusual name; of course I had to look up what this means soon after I noticed it.

Well, last month a big "Auction" sign went up on the house, which I thought was sad. But the story has a happy ending.

I had been so dreading the return to work on our company's contract with a certain maker of tourist guidebooks. The people were nice, but the project infrastructure was hell, and the commute was a total pain (especially with winter coming on). But now it looks like, due to an increasingly acrimonious dispute between our companies, that the contract is dead in the water. Deliverance!

Everyone still has a few personal effects out on their work site. The running joke is that this is like a breakup, and we're going to go out there to find all of our stuff thrown out on the lawn. All we have to worry about now is our company finding a "rebound" contract, or making drunken phone calls to them at 2 a.m....

Everyone in blogville is commenting on Vonnegut's death. Who am I to be different? I've only read three of his -- Slaughterhouse Five, Sirens of Titan, and Galapagos. But I had been meaning to hunt down some others. Sad to lose such a brilliant and original voice.

"We are here on Earth to fart around. Don't let anybody tell you any different!"

Night bears. Our dog Laika dreams, which probably means that dreams date back at least to our common ancestor, which is a long long time ago. You can always tell -- her paws start twitching, and she whimpers. One time she even howled, which we can't even get her to do when we're awake. But I've always wondered whether they're happy dreams, or scary ones.

Usually she sleeps on her side. But last night, she fell asleep on the couch with me in an unusual position -- on her back. The practical effect of this was that her tail was freed up, and sure enough, when she started dreaming, her tail wagged. That can only mean that the dream, at least at the start, was happy. Isn't that sweet?

So my niece is into anime. This seems to be a trend that passed me by. For the most part, I don't get it. I'm sure that like anything else, though, there's good and bad.

But even comic books, I was never into as a kid, at all. I only ever owned one, and it was a birthday present from a neighborhood kid. I still remember it -- it was from The Witching Hour series, but I'd be hard pressed to say which one of those it was. I thought it was kind of dumb.

Which is all a prelude to saying that I just finished the first of Neil Gaiman's critically acclaimed "graphic novels", The Sandman: Preludes Nocturnes. And guess what, it seemed like just a comic book to me, and I found it very much like every other comic book I've ever read. I don't get what the fuss is all about. But in it he did name-check a lot of older comics, I noticed -- including The Witching Hour.

My review of the Pixies show the other night can be found on my MOG.

In other news, it's about Easter, and I haven't gotten a call back from The Rich List, so I guess it's not going to happen. Alas.

The new CD by The Shins came with a sticker to promote the band. Marjorie asked, "Where should we stick it?". We both thought a minute, and didn't come up with any place.

I think maybe that one's maturity level can be measured by the number of places one has to put stickers.

Wow. These kinetic sculptures are really cool. Watch the video.

In an exercise of self-indulgence, these are a few of the things that I'm enjoying lately:

Go Fug Yourself

Joe Mathlete Explains Today's Marmaduke - this site kills me, but not one for the little ones.

Mimi Smartypants, again not for those easily offended, but generally very funny.

Rose wines, a new varietal for us, but one we are both enjoying muchly. We're also still enjoying sparkling wines, though I'm guessing that our ritual of "champagne Sundays" will be put on hold now that the Soccer season has re-started for Mark.

Running- Laika and I have been running anywhere from twice to five times a week for over a year now. I keep expecting myself to get lazy, but it's surprisingly addictive. That said, I need to get more serious about it and start running in some local fun-runs. I'd be very pleased with myself if I trained enough to run a marathon by the year I turn 40, but won't commit myself to it at this point. I currently run anywhere on average from 3 km's to 7 km's so a marathon would be a huge leap.

Music swapping- I've been trading favorite cd's with another expat (French) in an effort to move past our music doldrums. We were introduced to Phoenix this way, a band we both really like, and recently obtained a Ry Cooder CD that we really like too.

I wish I could add my new job to this list, but at the moment I don't feel expert enough to find it enjoyable, and instead feel depressed at being deskilled. I'm hoping to be illuminated in the near future, because at the moment nothing is making sense to me. My colleagues have reassured me that I just need to give it some more time. I'm definitely enjoying the new paycheck though.

The audition for The Rich List was today. They held it in the function room at the local German cultural center, and a LOT more people showed up than I was expecting -- maybe 120. The first part was a standard trivia quiz. There were forty questions; I started really strong, but stumbled a bit at the end. No matter -- I scored a 24, and the cut off was 18. Everyone under that was out. That whittled us down to sixty people or so.

They took a Polaroid picture of us next, that they attached to our questionnaires. (Of course, I blinked at just the wrong time.) Then the guy running it forebodingly asked if we had ever seen Australia's Got Talent. The thing was, each of us remaining had to get up and demonstrate a talent for thirty seconds or so, "or you can just talk about yourself, but that would be boring." We were given a raffle ticket, and we were called up in random order. I was thinking, "Please, please, give me time to consider this a bit." Luckily I wasn't called until about half way, so I had time to plan my shtick. Some people told off-color jokes, and some sang nursery rhymes, but lots of other people were just talking about interesting experiences they had, so I just did the same. It went basically:

Hi, I'm Mark, and I'm American, as you can probably tell by my accent. Or as I like to think of it, my lack of accent. [Mark pauses for laughter, *cough*] One interesting experience I had was that last year I participated in a naked group calendar photo shoot for charity, down along the Yarra River. The Age did an article about it, and of course they chose the one picture where my naked bum was directly in the front row. Do, uh, any of you recognize it? [Mark turns around and shows backside.]

Shrug. People laughed, but I stumbled over my words a bit, as I'm prone to doing, but it could have gone worse.

Then it was off to the one-on-one interview with the assistants. They asked a bunch of wacky questions, like, if you could pick a superpower, what would it be? I babbled something about super speed so I could avoid all the recent train delays, blah blah blah. There were a few others along those lines. I don't know, it seemed to go reasonably okay for the most part. That was the end of it; we just wait for a callback from here. I don't rate my chances as excellent. But it's possible. They promise to contact their selections by Easter. So, no news will be bad news.

As Mark stated, my friend Kristina was with us the week back. It was lovely to have her here, and like all the people who come to visit us, she's now seen parts of Australia that are still unexplored by us. We did take a trip up to the Yarra Valley together to taste some of the wines grown there, and discovered a lovely dairy farm as well. The highlight of the trip was the Yering Farm vineyard, which was just lovely, and served us a fantastic tasting platter, which sent us in search of the previously mentioned dairy farm to track down a remarkable fetta.
The whole week was a bit of a wine fest, which was fun, but left us all feeling a bit over-indulgent. To top it all off Kristina and I went on a search for the best chocolate bars in Melbourne (this city is a chocolate lovers dream, with over five specialty chocolate bars and many other "lolli-shops", add in the ncredible italian and greek bakeries and you could seriously indulge) though by Sunday we were excessed out and I feel our attempt at binging on chocolate was half-hearted.
On the whole it was a nice visit, and good to be able to play host(s) to Kristina, who has repeatedly been a very gracious hostess to us on our trips back to the States.

Questions from The Rich List's contestant profile questionnaire:

1. List some of the unusual/quirky/interesting experiences of your life so far?
2. What is your greatest achievement and why?
3. Would you describe yourself as a gambler? What is the biggest bet you have made?
4. Are you a member of any clubs (sporting, academic, social)?
5. What would you describe as your best and worst character / personality traits?
6. Do you read newspapers, magazines, books? Which kind and how often?
7. Do you watch quiz shows? If so what shows?
8. Do you attend trivia nights regularly? [note: bing!]
9. What are your interests? (Please list as many as possible and be specific):
10. List your 5 top movies of all time
11. List your favourite bands/artists of all time
12. List the 5 TV shows you can’t miss
13. Who is your favourite actor/actress celebrity?
14. List the sports you love to play and/or watch
15. What book series and/or author do you read?
16. Where have you previously travelled in the World? Where would you like to travel to?

Audition is Monday at 2pm, which is a bloody inconvenient time. (If I'm going to appear on an Australian TV show, I can use words like "bloody".)

C'mon, big money! To heck with hard work. I've signed up to be a contestant on an Australian game show called The Rich List, after a friend of a friend walked away with $250,000 dollars (pre-tax, natch, but still). I figure it suits me because I like lists and am generally a cesspool of useless information. We watched this evening's show -- the contestants had to name as many countries as possible that were formerly part of the Soviet Union but were now independent countries. Naming all fifteen would have gotten them $250,000, but I'm pretty certain I could have gotten twelve, which would be a cool $150,000.

In other news, Marjorie's friend Kristina is on her way back home after a lovely visit. I'll let Marjorie blog about that though.

See? We're not freaks -- we're at the forefront of a trend.

I've got a killer idea for the internet that's too much work for me to build alone. I'm trying to decide what to do with it. The more I think about it, the better it sounds, too. Let me see if I can describe it well enough to convince you.

There are lots and lots of forums around the internet where you can sign on and discuss all sorts of things. And lots and lots of sites -- like this blog -- let you add comments.

The idea is a thing that will let you comment on any site on the internet, and to see comments left by others. It would be a browser "plug in", which means that it would just be an extra button on your Mozilla Firefox or Internet Explorer. The button would turn redder the more recently comments have been made. You click the button to pop up the comments/forum. The comments themselves would be hosted on my (hypothetical) company's server.

The advantages as I see them:

1. Instead of having to have separate accounts on separate websites, you would only need a single login. I already have trouble remembering all my passwords.

2. Similarly, you'd only ever have to deal with a single unified style of comment forum.

3. Because the comment forum attaches itself to web sites but is not affiliated with them, you are free to say anything you want. So go on over to that local politician's web site and let everyone know what a schmuck he is. If a dodgy company tries to rip you off, go tell everyone about it, right on their own website (essentially). You can say nice things, too. Comment on any news article in any online newspaper. Sports, politics, religion, books, movies, shopping -- really, anything that has a web page, you can hold a discussion.

There are still some functional issues to resolve, but I don't see any technical roadblocks. There's a few other ideas I have for it, but that's the gist. It's a fairly straightforward idea, and I think it has the potential to give all of the internet a more populated feel, as you surf around and see what everyone is commenting on.

I used to be a good tipper -- twenty percent in restaurants, and usually a dollar on a pint of beer. Australia has ruined me. I still tip ten percent at nice restaurants -- they say that's expected, but no one seems to mind if you don't. But most restaurants we go these days, I tip bupkis. Bars, too.

Everyone from down here (or England) really hates that part about visiting the States. I don't think the service in the US is that much better for it. If we ever move back, that's going to be a hard thing to readjust to.

In the spirit of the weekly blog:
Observation at work- Head Office if frequently referred to as "Town" as it's in the centre of Melbourne. It always amuses me when I hear someone say it.
If I get another tattoo, it's going to be a finger moustache. Makes me grin just thinking about it.

You'd think we missed the whole Texas Hold 'Em craze, but no, it struck here too. Many pubs have Texas Hold 'Em nights, and they show the competitions (celebrity and not) on TV frequently.

I've skipped it, because I've never been particularly adept at poker, preferring euchre, hearts, spades, or (very novice) bridge. But tomorrow our company is having a poker party, so tonight I'm hitting Yahoo Games to at least learn the rules.

Not much else new. I've started soccer practice again; the hip is not perfect but I'm easing into it. Lonely Planet work is going. I've discovered where they put the books you're allowed to take (seconds and old editions) so our bookshelf has been swelling. Um, and Extras is the best show on TV right now.

Update. I made it through the first round, but got lousy cards the second round. Still, if I was any good, I could've bluffed my way through a while longer. I don't have that instinct. I'd like to give it a go down at the casino though.

"New Leaf":
I''m going to make an effort to blog more. The goal is to write something at least once a week, as my contribution for the last year has been piss-poor. Things have been happening. It's not for lack of news that I don't write, just ..... who knows. Anyway, new leaf.

I started a new job this week. I'm now a "Partnership and Service Advisor" which means that now my responsibilities are to monitor agencies, not individuals. At the moment I don't have a clue but I'm hoping the job will become clearer in the weeks to come.

The other exciting event this week was the exploratory "cardiac catheterization" my Dad had scheduled on Monday, which might have lead to Angioplasty if any blockage had been found. Luckily, nothing was found and he is in good health. Scary though, and exactly the type of thing that makes living so far away difficult. It's hard to be as supportive as I'd like to be from another continent.

As requested, the "flooded tent" story:
When I was five my parents decided to take my sister and I on a hiking/camping trip to Kauai, Hawaii (we lived in Oahu at the time). The trip over was taken on a speed boat, and unfortunately I did not have my sea legs. I ended up having to wear a garbage bag to disembark from the boat as I had vomited all over myself (and probably my poor mom and sister). I think the trip back was slightly better.
My parents had been to Kauai without us kids at an earlier part of the year and wanted to bring us back to this amazing spot they found. Unfortunately it was December (or January, it was right after Christmas) and the rainy season. We hiked into a very remote area on the island, carrying in our tents and supplies. On the first night there (I think) we experienced a very heavy rain storm that practically washed mine and Susan's supposedly "waterproof" tent away. I remember we set up camp near the beach, and it felt like we were going to be washed out to sea, though that's probably a false memory. Susan and I ended up abandoning our tent and going to sleep in the bigger, actually waterproof tent with our parents. The other really memorable things about the trip, beyond the camping, hiking, and getting rained out, are the incredibly vivid memory of burnt pancakes, flowers that could be used as soap and shampoo, befriending a feral cat we called "Katherine" (who benefited when Susan and I abandoned our tent), and losing all four of my front teeth at different parts of the journey (at least one was lost eating what I remember as my first Kitkat bar). By the time we got home I had a huge gap in my mouth.
I have positive memories of the trip overall, though the storm was definitely scary for both myself and Susan. It was hardly the last family camping trip we took, as we camped about once a year until I was in high school.
Dad, Mom, Susan, is this how you guys remember the trip? Did I leave anything important out?

We're back from part two of our experimental vacation week. This time, instead of asking "Can we survive camping?", we asked, "Can we vacation with the dog?" So we bought her a car harness (for her protection and ours) and drove down with her to a nice little cottage we booked in Rye, where we passed four days visiting wineries, padding through tide pools, and generally making gluttons of ourselves. All was lovely but the dog's not too keen on being left alone in an unfamiliar place. Not that she destroyed anything, but she was very clingy when we came back from our excursions.

Back now from our first ever camping trip. I knew that sleeping bag I got Marjorie for Christmas eight years ago would come in handy some day.

We headed down to Wilsons Prom, and had a loverly time.

The beach just off our camp site, Norman Beach, was maybe the nicest beach I've ever been on. The sand was like it was filtered, it was so soft; the water was crystal clear, the setting beautiful, and there was hardly anybody there. We also took a hike over the tidal river to Squeaky Beach.

I'm too bony to even sit on hard ground, much less sleep on it, so I had trouble with just a foam pad and sleeping bag. The first night I couldn't sleep so I got up to look at stars. There weren't that many visible, just because the full moon was too big and bright, but I was still treated to the incredible view of a low blanket cloud streaming over a distant mountain range directly under the full moon. When I came back to our site, one of these guys was sniffing around the space between the car and the tent. I woke Marjorie and we went chasing it through the woods.

A few new birds spotted, most notably a number of swift parrots.

Scary coincidence -- the people at the next site started playing some music, and straight away I recognized it as my funeral song that I just mogged about. As another data point that there's no such thing as omens, I wasn't eaten by a great white the next day.

We'll go back at some point, I'm sure.

We saw the Pretenders over the weekend at nice venue. We were supposed to see Paul Kelly and The Church as well, but we FORGOT THAT WE HAD TICKETS to this show until we got a call from the outing organizer at around 4:30.

I blame early onset senility. Anyway, they were really good. Chrissie was in fine voice, and looking damn good, too. At one point she played a song I didn't recognize, what I thought was a good song, and said that it was "for the two people who bought our last album". I was going to post a link to it but I can't find much reference to any recent album by them since like 2003. What gives?

What, another? I've got a new myspace-y kind of deal going on over at mog.com, which is (yet another) social networking site, this one for music geeks. I'm even blogging there a bunch, at least for the moment, so if you'd like to watch me take a metaphorical bubble bath in front of you while nattering on about bands you probably have no interest in, drop on by.

The music fairy visited us, apparently. I was thinking of tracking down some of Phoenix's earlier albums, since I liked their recent one so much. Today I was looking through our collection and found a burned copy of their album "United" that neither I nor Marjorie had ever listened to, or even noticed. And neither of us has any idea where it came from.

Was this a gift from any of you that we somehow just shelved and never played?

The Sea Dragon was very cool to see indeed(I only saw one, Mark says he saw two). The truly amazing thing was that we were literally snorkeling right around the Portsea Pier, where we could have walked in from the shore. Who would have thought these amazing animals would be so easy to find?! I feel very grateful to have seen one, as Southern Australia is the only place in the world were these animals live.
We had such a good time on Saturday that we've decided we'll go back for a longer trip to the Mornington Peninsula soon, with the dingo in tow. I'm looking forward to visiting a few wineries as well.

Here there be dragons. Another nice bit of novelty on Saturday as we went for a snorkeling trip in Port Phillip bay, two hours south of the city. Animals that actually touched my hand included:

• A weedy sea dragon, which is what we went down there to see
  
• A black-lipped abalone (worth about $40-$50)
  
• A sea urchin
  
• A puffer fish, caught by the guide and actually puffed out like this
  

Fun day. Fortunately, the seal and penguin colonies are around the other side of the peninsula, and these guys don't really ever wander into the bay.

A fun new experience last night as we went out to see the cricket (it's always "the cricket" in that context, not just "cricket") with some of Marjorie's work friends at the Melbourne legendary MCG. I brought along a printout of this page which explains cricket so Americans can understand, and ended up quite enjoying it, despite occasional confusion. The results were good too. It lasted from 2:30 to 9:40 or so (and bear in mind this is the shortened version of cricket), but we didn't show up until 5ish. Probably the biggest crowd at any sporting event I've ever been to, too -- the attendance topped 78,000, and the crowd was as much fun to watch as the match.

The alcohol free January is all ready wearing thin with one of us. Mark drinks more than me generally, but he's better at self-deprivation (or self-control, one of those). I'll make it alco-free for the rest of the week, but come the weekend I may let myself have a glass of wine.
Mark and I will check out our first Cricket game this Friday night at the MCG (Melbourne Cricket Grounds). We were invited to come out for a game by some of my co-workers, and decided to come along since we've never seen the cricket, and haven't even been to the MCG for a footy game yet. I'm predicting that the cricket will be even more boring than a baseball game, but like baseball, I'll be there for the crowd scene.
And in career news, I had an interview today for a position within the business sector of DCS (as opposed to directly supporting clients, this department supports the agencies that support the clients). I'm hoping to be offered the position, though I'm not sure yet if I'll take it. My boss found out I was interested in the role and made me a counter offer of a project management role in my department to keep me there. I'm undecided about which position I want most. At the moment I just want the luxury of choice, so wish me luck. Anyway, the interview went well, so anything's possible.

In May, for our fifth anniversary, we're going to have our honeymoon at last. (Yes, we've been around the world, but have yet to have an official honeymoon.) We're booked to go to the Cook Islands, or more specifically, Rarotonga and Aitutaki.

I knew working at Lonely Planet would be dangerous.

Actually, this is probably the first trip ever that we budgeted and saved for (as opposed to "Hey, we have $500 in the bank, want to go to Chicago?"). We are going to splash out for a few nights at a nice resort in Aitutaki (the true cost of this trip may well be that we become spoiled for the inferior resorts -- you know, where the commoners stay).

We'll have one night in Auckland on the way, too, which will probably leave us wanting to visit more of NZ. The list of places to visit only ever grows...

I'm a fan of 007 movies so much so that I've boycotted them all for the last ten years or so. It's the snotty purist in me. They've evolved into everything I hate about Hollywood blockbusters. Big special effects, moronic plots, and emotionless superhero protagonists who sleepwalk from one scene to the next. Connery used to sweat, man.

The reviews for the new one, Casino Royale, lured me back, trepidatiously, to the theater. And you know what? It was good. I was a little worried after the slightly over-the-top opening chase scene, but they reeled it in, and actually made Bond an interesting character again. A huge step in the right direction.

I'd tell you to go see it, but if it's too big of a hit, then the same bozo producers who've been ruining the series will get called in for the next.

Happy New Year to all -- ours started nice, a small gathering with friends, and fireworks in four directions from their rooftop patio.

Beyond taking a hiatus from alcohol, my other resolution seems to be to try again to make it through Joseph Heller's "Something Happened". This'll be my third try. Not because the prose is difficult -- in fact, you won't find a book that's written more clearly. Just because it's such a downer. Reading it is the literary equivalent of a solo trek across the Arctic Circle (all stark beauty and zero warmth). This time along I've packed a sense of ironic detachment, which should see me through.

I had no detachment at all tonight, though, as we watched the final episode of Six Feet Under. So much so that I can't write about it yet...

Was greeted at work yesterday morning by the fastest animal on Earth -- a peregrine falcon. She brought along a pigeon for breakfast as she perched just outside the office where I was working, twenty-seven floors up in the center of town. She sat there for about forty-five minutes, reducing the pigeon to a pair of wings and a rib cage, which she courteously left for us on the ledge. Better than dropping it on some passerby's head, I guess.

I got a new phone with a camera on it from Santa, but it went kaput two days later. So the above photo was from someone else in the office. Seems everyone has a camera phone these days. We saw Modest Mouse last night, and the little LED displays were a constant distraction (not that I wouldn't have taken a photo if my phone had been working). Really good show, and as a bonus treat for Marjorie (an old Smiths fan), Johnny Marr is now a member.

The year in music. Not at all a banner year for me. I can only think of four new albums that I got at all familiar with:

Augie March, "Moo, You Bloody Choir". Strummy pop. Local boys done good.

Ron Sexsmith, whatever his new one was called. Forgettable.

Jet, "Shine On". More local boys, but you wouldn't know it because they never play here. A solid effort.

Phoenix, "It's Never Been Like That". (Marjorie scored a copy by flirting with the guy at her coffee place.) Probably would have topped my list no matter what else I listened to. Bright guitar pop from a bunch of French dudes (in English though). Rare in that it stands up to both the close listen required of serious song-based pop, and also as just background atmospherics. Mark says check it out.

Tomorrow we're off to see Modest Mouse. Woop!

Reasons why Christmas in Australia is a pale imitation:

Hardly anyone puts out Christmas lights. It's light until almost 9 pm this time of year anyway.

There's no Thanksgiving, so there's no day-after-Thanksgiving shopping madness day to set the tone.

No cold weather. Although Christmas started in the middle east, the northern hemisphere totally pwns it now. So much so that they spray fake snow on Christmas displays. (Today's forecast though: "Mostly cloudy with showers. Local hail and thunder. Fresh to strong and gusty southwest to southerly wind. High of 16C -- about 60F.")

A Christmas Story only shows on pay per view.

USA: A Charlie Brown Christmas. Melbourne: Illicit wombat/platypus love.

Christmas in the best of years has a melancholy feel to it, for me; particularly so this year. Missing family very much. The turkey's in the oven, though, and will be ready in an hour.

Update: I think we'll probably remember this as the Christmas that we went jogging and got hailed on! It seemed like hail at one point, at least.

Silly season. Christmas party was fun. I kept the mo' because there was a pirate theme. Only one photo is known to exist of my costume, and it's from behind. (Recognise the bird, Mom?)

The mo' is no mo'. Marjorie is glad. Thanks to all who donated.

Marjorie's party was fun too. Just a few more holiday gatherings to get through. Then, we're going alcohol-free for the month of January (at least until the 26th, when we're going to a concert at a winery). I'm all about the month-long self-improvement exercises these days.

Not much new, but one has to report in every now and again, if one is to keep a blog.

Last weekend there was a haze of smoke over the city, and the smell of burning countryside. Very hot and dry, but then the weather changed (in about a minute, like it always does here) and conditions improved. Things are still burning however, and spreading from the high winds. No danger to us here though.

Slammed at work, trying to learn all the Lonely Planet stuff while still supporting my previous project. December is my least favorite month. Always stressful.

I've kept the mo' for now, because our Christmas party this Friday has a "pirate" theme. Marjorie's sick of it. After all my pleas for sponsorship, she's wondering who she has to pay for me to shave the thing off.

For no reason at all, here's a list of the places that I've flown through but never visited:

Dallas

Phoenix

Cincinnati

Houston

Brussels

Hong Kong

Reykjavik

Auckland

Who would've thought that after all these years, facial hair doesn't actually look all that bad on me, by most accounts. Check the beard, the goatee, and the subsequent mo.

Yeah. It's all well and good until you realise that I look like this guy. So family, friends, do me a favour, okay? Go here, and enter my Rego number (5917) and your credit card details to sponsor me. It's for a good cause.

Novelty: a new wine, a new sandwich, blah, blah, blah... Grew tired of tracking the new things I was doing every day. I'll still try to keep it up for the month, but the exercise has already proved enlightening. It seems that more days go by than I thought where I don't do anything new or creative. Several times I've had to scramble at the end of the day to find something that qualifies. I have a theory now as well, that whenever you find yourself thinking "Man, this week/month/year has flown by fast", it's probably because you had a high number of days that were no different from the others during that time period. That will always be a warning sign to me from now on.

Mo update: I had a full beard as of yesterday, but then shaved it down to where it's officially a "mo". I'll post pictures of both tomorrow. I think the mo is pretty hideous but Marjorie likes it, at least for now.

Do me a favour and take this quiz and post your results in the comments. See if it doesn't nail where you're from as well as it did me and a bunch of other people on a mailing list that I frequent.

Novelty update. Falling a little behind here -- before I forget, here are the exciting (not) new things that I've done this week:

Tuesday: Watched the whole first season of the American version of The Office. Surprisingly good, for something that's an adaptation of a British show. (I know it's a TV show, but it was a rental, so I'm counting it.)

Wednesday: First day working at Lonely Planet, and ate at the LP cafe.

Thursday: Tried a greasy spoon down the street from LP. Decent burger.

Friday: Tried another nicer cafe down the street from LP. Asian wrap was decent. That pretty much covers it for the lunch options around the place.

Saturday: Had a Speight's Ale at the Limerick Hotel.

So here it is, our third experience with Melbourne Cup Day, a.k.a. The Race That Stops A Nation. (Third already? How time flies.) For an interesting take on the festivities, check out Mark Twain's account from a century ago. Not much has changed.

(Sunday's novelty: Spotted a leaden flycatcher in the backyard; the first new bird spotting in the city in a long time. Yesterday's: Played around with an interactive music channel I didn't know we were getting on our satellite TV, and fell asleep to classical music.)

Traitors! We've officially applied for Australian citizenship. This is not to say we're renouncing our U.S. citizenship or anything like that. It's just that both countries are cool with dual citizenship, and this will give us the opportunity, if we leave, to come back whenever we want.

All we have to do now is arrange for a test, where they'll quiz us on our rights and responsibilities, and make sure we can speaka de English. I'm reminded of The Simpsons, when Apu was taking his citizenship test:

Proctor: All right, here’s your last question. What was the cause of the Civil War?
Apu: Actually, there were numerous causes. Aside from the obvious schism between the abolitionists and the anti-abolitionists, there were economic factors, both domestic and inter–
Proctor: Wait, wait… just say slavery.
Apu: Slavery it is, sir.

It does mean we have to vote (Australia being the only democracy in the world that requires voting). We'll have to serve on jury duty if called. One thing I like is that we'll be able to get an Australian passport, which is probably a lot safer to travel under than an American one in this day and age.

Postscript. Novelty from two days ago: Did a little work on my graphics package.
Yesterday's novelty: Fried chicken and tofu balls at Misuzu's.
Today's: Went to a nearby but well hidden cafe, St. Ali, for brunch, after getting a tip about it last night. Very nice coffee and sammy.

What's new. A less-than-auspicious foray into the November of Novelty. I tried a new restaurant for lunch -- the Ants Bistro in Chinatown -- and ordered the "Rice with Chicken Soup", largely because it was said to contain "diced botchy". What's that? I had no idea, but it turned out to be standard Chinese broccoli, and the soup on the whole was kind of bland. I will try the place again sometime though; it was just my fault in ordering an unexciting dish.

I tried to double up the novelty by trying out trivia night at the Gunn Island Hotel, but it turns out they don't have it anymore. Bummer. I updated the trivia map.

A rule I try to live by is to try something new every day. It sounds a little trite, but I figure you only get so many days in life, and to spend a day in the exact same way as you've spent one before seems to be a total waste.

I've gradually evolved rules to the game, as to what counts and what doesn't, and since these rules are my own, they only really have to make sense to me. Seeing a new movie counts, but not a new TV show. Finishing a book I've never read counts, but not starting one, or finishing one I've already read. New restaurants always count, and even new dishes at familiar restaurants. What's best is things I've always been a little leery about trying (such as the Turkish delight I tried for the first time a few weeks back). Checking out new neighborhoods or new routes to get from point A to point B also count. Newness created is as good as newness discovered, so doing any sort of creative work counts.

Sure, some of these things may be minor, but they're better than a day of work / TV dinner / reruns / sleep. And while the rules have formalised in my head, I've never actually tried to enforce the "daily" part on myself. But I will, next month. While growing my 'stache, I'll also be living the November of Novelty, and reporting here each day's new experience.

I once again missed my chance to cross something off my life-list, when I slept through a small earthquake that struck town. I didn't even know they could have them here.

The other big talk of the town is that apparently Phar Lap was poisoned. Sounds like a mighty dastardly thing to do but amounts to little more than a historical curiousity at this point.

And speaking of dastardly, I might be trying to grow a Snidely Whiplash for next month's "Movember" fundraiser. Though it'll probably come out looking more like a Tom Selleck.

Cup final yesterday, and I went from hero to goat, at least in my mind.

Though the first and second teams actually got us to the cup finals, they let us thirds actually play it, since we had been playing so well, and they had other cup games to play on the same day. And it was against our chief rivals, Albert Park.

Twenty minutes in I crash the far post on a corner kick and put us up 1-0, a lead we held until halftime. Unfortunately, they put three past us in the second half, all of which involved someone I was covering or should have been covering. I ended up getting substituted, and deservedly so, which is never fun. Final score 3-1. Team photos here -- I'm in the bottom picture, for those of you who know what I look like...

Submitted without comment.

Assessment Results: Mark

Mark’s Full Scale IQ was in the “very superior” range of ability. His percentile ranking was 99.5, indicating that Mark was performing as well as or better than 99.8% of peers his age. It is with 95% confidence that his “true” IQ lies within the “Very Superior” range of ability.

However, Marks Full Scale IQ is not a unitary construct because there was a significant difference between his Performance IQ and Verbal IQ. Therefore his Full Scale IQ is not interpretable.

The Verbal IQ was in the high “very superior” range of ability. Mark’s percentile ranking was 99.5, indicating that Mark is performing as well as or better than 99.5% of peers his age. It is with 95% confidence that his “true” Verbal IQ score lies with the “very superior” range of ability.

The Performance IQ was in the “Superior” range of ability. Mark’s percentile ranking was 95, indicating that he is performing as well as or better than 95% of peers his age. It is with 95% confidence that his true IQ score lies within the “Superior” range of ability.

Subtests

Performed best in subtests which tap into:

* short-term memory via auditory means. This involves short-term acquisition and retrieval.
* Verbal comprehension
* Acquired knowledge and general factual information
* Long-term memory.
* Crystallized Intelligence and Fluid Intelligence
* Visual perception of meaningful stimuli (people and things)
* Non-verbal reasoning
* Synthesis (part-whole relationships) and anticipation of relationships among parts.

Subtest scores identified difficulties in the following areas:

* Distinguishing essential from nonessential details
* Creativity
* Visual perception of abstract stimuli

NB: Superior IQ range lies between 120 and 130.

Very superior IQ range is greater than 130.

Woo hoo, I say, to have discovered a grocery store that sells pepperoncinis by the jar. I've been making myself sick on them since discovering them last week. This country is pepper-deprived.

Interesting note on Australian language. Lately, I've started noticing how much they use "whilst" down here in place of "while". For instance, in the trams there are signs that read, "Do Not Talk To The Tram Driver Whilst The Tram Is Moving". It just sounds wrong -- archaic -- to me. Turns out, it's from the English: in England, all official signage uses "whilst" instead of "while" for an interesting reason. Seems that in the north of England, "while" is often used to mean "until". Not a big deal, unless you consider a sign that reads something like: "Do Not Cross Train Tracks While Lights Are Flashing".

We got Laika two years ago today. Marjorie wants to buy her an anniversary gift, as if she would know the difference. Kind of like the woman I used to work with who bought her cats Christmas presents, wrapped them, and opened them for the cat on Christmas. I don't get it.

We did find the perfect place, though, to take her out to for the occasion.

Odd names. A woman I am about to start a project with has a somewhat unusual name. I can't mention it here, but it started a conversation tonight about odd names.

In junior high I remember two brothers, Linwood and Cherrywood Reed. Unusual, and a little unwieldy, but not too bad.

I also remember a Sunday school teacher at our church named Mercedes Ferrari. (The first name was pronounced "MER-seh-dees".)

I think Marjorie topped it all, though, with a family she's encountered at her work. The children are named Laverne, Shirley... and Ann. I didn't get the "Ann" at first, but then Marjorie explained, "Laverne... Ann... Shirley".

There's no law against it, but maybe there should be. Not life in prison, but a year or two, surely.

Big Blue. I've spent the last month locked in battle with IBM's WebSphere-based web content management tool. Today we came across this gem of an error message in a log file:

Syndiation error occured during reponse

Three misspellings in the space of five words. That has to be a record.

They say no one's ever been fired for going with IBM. Maybe it's time they start.

By popular request, some jokes:


Man in a doctor's office: "Doc, it hurts when I go like this."
Doctor: "Hmmm, step up on the table and let me have a look at that."


Later...
Man: "Doc, when this heals, will I be able to play the violin?"
Doctor: "Yes, you will."
Man: "That's a relief. You see, I'm a concert violinist and I was worried that this would affect my career."


A tourist visiting Manhattan: "Excuse me, how do you get to Carnegie Hall?"
Pedestrian: "It's three blocks up, on the right."


Q. Why did the chicken cross the road?
A. Probably in search of some food, but it's difficult to tell the motivation of animals.


"Take my wife, for instance..."


There was an airplane about to crash. The pilot had a heart attack and there were 4 passengers on the plane but only 3 parachutes! Right away one man grabs one of the chutes and said "I am Tiger Woods -- the greatest golfer of all times and I am taking one." He put on the parachute and jumped out of the plane. The next one to get up was Bill Gates. He said, "I am the smartest and most successful businessman in history, so I deserve one as well." He put on the pack and jumped out of the plane. The two people left were the Pope and a small five year old boy. The Pope turned to the boy and said "Bless you my son. I am an old man and I have lived a long and good life. You are young and have everything to live for. I insist that you take the last parachute and jump." The boy turned to the Pope and said, "Thanks!", and he put on the parachute and jumped.

Kind of cool. Looks like in a few weeks I'll be working on the Lonely Planet website. This is not just some Aussie-based version, but the global site. We've always used their guidebooks, and I used to even consult their site a lot, so it should be interesting to work on. The downside is that it might mean an extra 20-30 minutes commute most days.

Aside: apparently there's some London-based nutter that's been harassing them for something like eight years now, posting inappropriate material to their forums two or three times daily, creating a new login each time after the old one gets kicked off. Seems he's disgruntled after being rejected on a book deal. You just can't compete with crazy.

Recommended reading. You wouldn't think something written in 1889 would still be funny. I'm halfway through Jerome K. Jerome's "Three Men in a Boat". Here's a excerpt, where he's talking about his hypochondria:

In the present instance, going back to the liver-pill circular, I had the symptoms, beyond all mistake, the chief among them being "a general disinclination to work of any kind."

What I suffer in that way no tongue can tell. From my earliest infancy I have been a martyr to it. As a boy, the disease hardly ever left me for a day. They did not know, then, that it was my liver. Medical science was in a far less advanced state than now, and they used to put it down to laziness.

"Why, you skulking little devil, you," they would say, "get up and do something for your living, can't you?"--not knowing, of course, that I was ill.

And they didn't give me pills; they gave me clumps on the side of the head. And, strange as it may appear, those clumps on the head often cured me--for the time being. I have known one clump on the head have more effect upon my liver, and make me feel more anxious to go straight away then and there, and do what was wanted to be done, without further loss of time, than a whole box of pills does now.

You know, it often is so--those simple, old-fashioned remedies are sometimes more efficacious than all the dispensary stuff.

And the beauty of books that are this old is that the copyright has run out and you can read them online.

Soccer season is over, save for a few cup games and one-offs. Great season as we finished as the strongest team in the league. I ran the numbers today, and the last half of the season went like this:

team	Played	Wins	Draws	Lost	Gls	Gls Agnst	Pts
MIDDLE PARK FC	9	8	0	1	23	10	24
vermont	9	7	2	0	42	7	23
south port utd	10	7	2	1	38	8	23
caulfield cougars	10	5	2	3	39	15	17
kooyong jfc	9	5	1	3	31	29	16
carringbush	9	4	2	3	23	15	14
marcellin eagles	9	4	1	5	21	14	13
olympiakos east kew	9	4	1	4	25	22	13
kew deaf united	8	3	0	5	21	40	9
highlander united	8	1	0	7	5	37	3
port melbourne	11	1	0	10	8	53	3
oakleigh series	9	0	1	8	8	26	1

We were pretty near unstoppable for that stretch. Pity the season was longer than just that though.

Kudos to the doctor who fixed up my hip so well! Pretty much a complete recovery, aside from a strange out-of-whack feeling occasionally when I ride my bike. It'll still be nice to take a week off and let my feet and calves recover.

More geeking. John has between 2 and 5 apples. Mary gives him between 3 and 7 apples. How many apples does he have now? If you can understand this simple question, you have the gist interval arithmetic.

I first heard of interval arithmetic while working at Kennedy Space Center; we used it to model pressures and temperatures of liquid oxygen flowing through pipes. There are other applications beyond physical modeling. It is sometimes used in finance to track the rounding error during financial calculation, so people can't steal fractions of cent from each transaction (like they did in Office Space).

I've started a project that provides a Java library for developers wishing to use interval arithmetic for whatever purpose they want: check it out. It's open-source, so anyone is free to download, use, and even modify it. It's still in a very raw state, but I'm hoping to improve it, especially if there is outside interest.

(I'm torn about hosting it on SourceForge; they're the biggest and most widely known repository for projects such as these, but I hate hate hate Unix-y interfaces, huge lists of features that nobody uses, and sparse and inconsistent documentation, and that's what SourceForge seems to be all about. Maybe I'll switch to Google's?)

Geek alert. Flying back from the states, I came across a contest called "Crossing Capitals" in the back of Games Magazine. The object is to take the 50 US state capitals, plus all of the Canadian capitals, and fit as many as possible into a 19 by 19 grid, crossword puzzle style. This is a regular sort of contest they do, called a "stuffer" contest.

This sounded like a fun thing to write a program to solve, so I set to the task, and was soon generating some pretty good results. I started running it overnight at home, and pretty much constantly at work -- I'd estimate a good eight weeks of total computing time. I'm not sure how many million combinations were tried, but it was a lot. I also did a lot of fine tuning of the algorithm.

The deadline is now passed -- here are the results of the effort:

M

O

N

T

P

E

L

I

E

R

C

O

N

C

O

R

D

C

A

E

O

L

Y

M

P

I

A

H

A

L

I

F

A

X

S

L

T

E

B

M

U

T

R

E

N

T

O

N

I

T

O

R

O

N

T

O

M

P

G

I

I

B

P

I

E

R

R

E

C

H

A

R

L

E

S

T

O

N

I

Q

K

H

T

A

E

E

A

L

B

A

N

Y

A

A

L

N

S

L

A

R

A

U

S

T

I

N

C

O

L

U

M

B

U

S

L

N

I

B

H

I

G

B

O

S

T

O

N

I

E

S

T

P

A

U

L

T

A

G

S

S

Y

A

S

T

R

T

M

E

N

S

T

D

E

N

V

E

R

J

A

N

T

A

A

T

G

D

O

V

E

R

N

A

L

P

H

O

E

N

I

X

H

C

E

F

E

W

N

N

K

E

D

M

O

N

T

O

N

M

A

D

I

S

O

N

That's thirty-four capitals. The tie breaker is the total count of letters used; my total is 243.

Unfortunately, I found a forum for people who do this sort of thing all the time, and it looks like at least three people managed to fit in 35 capitals. At least one did it by hand, too, without computer help! I would have thought that everyone in contention to win would have done it by program -- interesting that brains and computers are so evenly matched.

Steve Irwin died today. The news raced around Australia like wildfire -- I heard it almost simultaneously from about four different directions. Quite sad, I think. He may not have been the best role model for kids, but he was the real deal. Did you know that all the profits from his movie went to environmental causes?

No one's too surprised that he went out like this, except maybe those who were expecting it to be a croc. And yet, somehow, it's hard to imagine him dead.

Fun yesterday as I played golf for the first time in four years, at Yarra Bend. I was predictably terrible (shot 108, I think) but it was the soccer team's annual golf outing, and the weather was great, so it was good fun. Tons of wildlife on the course, most notably the colony of giant fruit bats, but also a lot of eastern rosellas, noisy miners, rainbow lorikeets, and a flock of some sort of black cockatoos.

Then last night we caught the Melbourne Victory beating Sydney in front of the biggest crowd in Australian club soccer history -- nearly 40,000. I'm sure it was the biggest crowd that a lot of the players have ever played in front of as well. Great game and a fun atmosphere.

Brushes with celebrity. For no good reason, here are the famous peeps I've peeped, not counting actual shows, lectures, readings, etc.:

Elvis Costello: Met him after shows a few times. Also sat behind him at a Ron Sexsmith show where he didn't perform, so it counts.

Michael McKean (Lenny of Lenny and Squiggy fame): Sat two rows behind him at an Elvis Costello concert.

Henry Rollins: Saw him in a Starbucks in London. Henry Rollins in a Starbucks.

Gurmit Singh at our grocery store in S'pore.

Molly Meldrum at a footy game. Well, they tell me he's famous.

Shaq, at a nightclub in Orlando. A head taller than everyone else, he was hard to miss.

Horace Grant, at the same club. Shook his hand.

Ted Kennedy: Spooked him in an airport when I suddenly reached into my bag for my ticket just as I recognized him. His bodyguards got him out of there fast!

Michael Stipe, on a street corner in Athens, listening to (what I'm guessing was) a backing track through headphones, and mouthing words over it.

Mike Mills, in a bar in Atlanta. Also saw him driving down the road once.

Not much new to report. Spring is slowly arriving, though, which has made us delay our search for a new neighborhood -- Albert Park is too too nice when it's warm.

Two restaurants plugs:

Santiago -- great tapas, great wine, great atmosphere. Reminded us very much of Spain.

Tandoori Times -- maybe the best chicken vindaloo I've had.

A few weeks back we saw the Picasso exhibit at the NGV. We're both fans, but Picasso's ability to excel at every medium almost makes us angry! Great stuff though.

Next week I'm claiming my birthday present -- we're going to the Melbourne Victory match against Sydney.

Eulogy for Beau


I woke up yesterday to the very sad news that Beau, one of my family's dogs, had been found dead, hit by a car.

This is the email my father sent:

To paraphrase an iconic southern writer, my dog is dead and I don’t feel so good myself.

Bubba Beau, formal name - Beauregard Bocephus (although we were never able to find a registry that would accept him under that or any other name), is survived by Sister Sadie, his littermate and constant companion as well as those of his family handicapped by having only two feet.

Beau suffered from the stigma of being a ‘Replacement’ puppy. His predecessor was a little dog (although too tall for his alleged breed), and when he just plum wore out in June of 1996 the whole Olympic furor couldn’t replace him. So a scout was dispatched to check out a nearby litter with two clear instructions: It would take two big dogs to replace Mikey, and both had to be the same sex. She listened as well as usual and came home with a mixed pair of tiny puppies. They were so small they couldn’t negotiate steps and so had to be carried out to the yard every time they took a drink or had something to eat. Fortunately they could both be transported in one hand in an act we came to call puppy juggling. That came to an end well before Beau hit his peak weight of just over 100 lbs.

They came to us about the same time as the Atlanta Olympics and their birthday was only one day away from mine. I find it much easier to celebrate theirs than mine at this stage of life.

Since he was only a replacement puppy and not a terribly smart one in my opinion (although he could be sly and manipulative) I was determined not to love him. He wasn’t even a real Labrador Retriever, although he looked like one if he kept his mouth shut. (Don’t lots of us reveal things we’d rather keep hidden when we open our mouths?) But 10 years of faithful companionship have a way of worming deep into your heart. I said he was really Marjorie’s puppy, even after she moved out on her own, got married, then moved to Singapore and later Australia. After all when they played and danced she had been known as the third puppy. And Beau always reacted to my announcements that the third puppy was coming to see him, even when the visits were years apart. But when she and Mark adopted their own Laika (kind of an Australian version of Sadie) I had to acknowledge that I was stuck with Bubba Beau. I tried to say he was a sissy and just Linda’s dog, but when he ‘Assumed the position’ (another unique training command that he obeyed usually without command) by my recliner and demanded to be patted or some other affirmative kind of bonding, it was obvious. Would a guy let a dog he didn’t love groom his ears?

Beau was a Retriever and he was genetically programmed to prove it. Sometimes he did that by lugging around some soft toy. Linda continually humiliated him and reinforced the sissy image by buying him pink ‘babies’ to play with. But sometimes a guy just has to prove he’s a guy and go out and validate his place on the table of organization. At those times Beau usually found a possum that was, most often, playing possum. Finding those in the house was a thrill for a great big fellow and terrorized the women who were lucky enough to share the experience. Linda and Becky both became expert on the inverted laundry basket method of possum removal.

We knew that Beau was a (mostly) lab dog, but like I said he wasn’t too smart. He kept getting confused and thought he was a lap dog. When he was half of a puppy juggling act that was certainly an endearing trait, and as a 30 lb. puppy it was still pretty cute. Somewhere around the 75 lb. mark it became dangerous and when he was over 100 lbs it could be damned intimidating. By the way, there’s no thrill like having a 100+ lb. puppy step on your bare foot in his rush to be the first out the door.

Beau had another life long trait. He was a runner! If there was a fence he could find its flaw. If there was electric or electronic reinforcement he knew the second the power was off or the battery ran down. And he encouraged his co-conspirator to follow his example. In the early years there was some doubt about who was lead and who was wing, but not so in recent years. If Beau was having an out of yard experience by himself he was usually docile and responsive to calls, content to show you that all the money you’d spent on fencing and gadgets wasn’t what ran his life. But if his four footed pack was completed then he was off and adventuring. At the end of the adventure we could expect a call.

“Your dogs are in my pool” was the most startling, and for several reasons. They were about half a mile from home and had had to cross a busy road to get there.

But the call always came. Since we moved to Cumming the adventures had picked up again. A new neighborhood had to be explored and again we knew they weren’t respecting the boundaries we’d have drawn. But the call always came.

Tuesday evening we got a call while we were 50 miles away from home that they were on another adventure but hanging around close to home. When we got home several hours later they were nowhere to be found. The next morning I got the call I feared – “Hey, I found your dog.” Singular, not plural. And my heart fell. These were a pair. They’d never been found apart. We looked Wednesday and Thursday morning, putting out ‘Lost Dog’ signs and all. But Thursday we had to leave on a long scheduled trip to Boston, where we had once lived with Mikey many years ago. So we left the search and answering the calls in the hands of our oldest, dearest friends and The Dogs’ Nanny. Carole diligently searched Animal Control with no results and initially was told that no dog of that description had been found on the roads by DOT. But while checking in to our Boston hotel we got the call. Beau had had his last adventure and it had ended near the intersection of Kelly Mill Road (busy - with a high speed limit) and Pittman Road. He was about a block from home and although there was some confusion in my mind about whether he was coming or going, it’s now clear that the adventure had run down and he was on the way home. I’m told he was found on Thursday near one of our “Lost Dog” signs. That doesn’t fit my belief that Sadie wouldn’t have been found Wednesday without him had there been any choice, but it must have been her arthritis that brought her adventure to a premature conclusion on the wrong side of that busy road and within sight of the place where her bubba’s last adventure ended about 30 hours later.

So again, life goes on. I won’t miss the big dumb, hairy so and so. And my keyboard’s not going to rust from my tears falling freely. Revising and adding to this days later, as more that just can’t be left out occurs to me, reinforces my original conclusion that he was a big dumb hairy beast and I’m going to be a long time getting over him.

And anybody that doesn’t think Lewis Grizzard is as iconic a southern writer as William Faulkner can kiss my grits.


Beau was a lovely dog. He was sweet, and had a very silly, easy-going personality, and, in spite of what my father wrote, Beau was a very smart dog, probably the smartest I've known, though he was equally lazy and not worried about impressing anyone.

I spent most of yesterday crying, and imagine today won't be much different. I'm so glad I got to see him last May when I was home.

I'll miss his facination with "the magic floor", dirty laundry, and anything edible (or not so much). I'll miss having him follow me from room to room when I visit my parents. And I'll miss his morning salutations of "roo, roo, roo".

He was loved. He will be very missed. And I'm sure I'll stop crying eventually.

Guinea piggery. One of Marjorie's cow orkers who's working on a psych degree gave me an IQ test this evening, and boy is my brain tired. This was the face-to-face interactive test (not an online mouse-clicky thing) and is a lot more full-on than you might expect. There were 14 tests, and most seemed to start out easy, and ended with you feeling stupid. Here's a run-down of the sections, and a representative question from each:

Information - "Who was Mahatma Ghandi?"

Comprehension - "Why is it necessary for the government to collect taxes?"

Arithmetic - "An item is on sale for one third off the original price. Its sale price is $400. What is the original price?"

Similarities/Differences - "In what way are a friend and an enemy alike?"

Vocabulary - "Define 'tangible'."

Digit span - "Repeat these digits backwards: 4,3,6,2,8."

Letter-Number Sequencing - "Given this sequence, tell me the digits in order, followed by the letters in order: 5,K,2,P,1,J,9,Q."

Performance - "What's missing from this picture?" (A typical picture: two people running along the beach, one leaving no footprints.)

Digit Symbol - Coding - Each digit had a code, and I had to draw the code for a sequence of numbers.

Block Design - "Which picture completes the block?"
Matrix Reasoning - "Which picture completes the sequence?"
Picture Arrangement - "These cards each have a picture on them. Arrange them so the scene makes a logical story."
Symbol Search - "Circle 'Yes' if one of the two symbols on the left appears in the list of five symbols on the right, 'No' otherwise."
Object Assembly - "Arrange these puzzle pieces into a coherent picture."

This after a long day of programming. But it was interesting. I get the results in a week or two.

I'm 40, darnit, and I'm allowed. I asked Marjorie if she's going to be disappointed if I become a huge Gilbert and Sullivan geek. She said she's surprised I'm not already.

I saw Topsy Turvy last night, and kept thinking, where have these guys been all my life?

I'm a sucker for clever wordplay and catchy melodies. Melbourne has their own Gilbert and Sullivan Society who are putting on a play in November -- unfortunately, it's not a Gilbert and Sullivan play. So it'll be a long while before I can experience G&S proper.

It's dawned on me how much of my music taste is the result of collaboration. I love Strummer and Jones, Lennon and McCartney, Difford and Tilbrook, Lerner and Loewe. I'm kind of fond of Bacharach and David, but was never that keen on Elton John and Bernie Taupin. Rodgers and Hammerstein are okay I guess. Who else? Does anyone even collaborate anymore, other than one-offs?

For the record, I just had my second visual migraine. Woo hoo.

There's a ping pong tournament going on at work, and I'm all bitter because I had planned on at least making it to the quarter finals (where I would have had to play a guy that used to be ranked sixth in Australia) and instead I went out in the second round. I was winning the first game 16-7, then just kind of froze up and started trying not to hit the ball into the net, which of course always results in hitting the ball into the net. To the other guy's credit, he took me off my game. Nuts. I blew $10 on a quality new paddle too.

But soccer's going good; my fitness is back and my hip has seemingly made a full recovery. There are hints here and there that the weather is warming up. Fish are jumping. The cotton is high.

Hmmm, that's odd... Eight minutes ago, I started experiencing my first visual migraine. Luckily, my brother had one a little while back, so I know what's going on. It started as a little blind spot, that was making it hard to see the letter on the screen that I was looking at. It has since grown and moved off to the left. It's now like if I were looking out a window where someone had frozen the letter "C" onto the glass, causing a rainbow diffraction effect, except that the ice is also shimmering. It should end within the half hour, by all reports, and I might get a slight headache after. Very strange, and it would be scaring the tar out of me right now (think: stroke) if I didn't know what it was.
Update: It passed as predicted, in about a half an hour. I got the slightest of headaches afterwards, which is also typical. I found this Flash animation that gives a very good depiction of what it was like (except that the distortion was more of a "C" shape for me).

I knew I could do it. A year or so ago I quit biting my nails, thanks to a product marketed under the great name of Stop That (in America, I think it's called Bittrex). Stop That is a highly bitter substance you put on your nails for a little instant negative feedback whenever you put them in your mouth.

The problem was, I still had the tendency to pick at my nails with my other nails (or even a nail clipper), quite incessantly. I wasn't biting, but my fingers still didn't look too good. I tried all sorts of tricks to stop that, without much luck.

In the last three days, though, I've quit the picking. How? With a little product called Stop That. I just applied it to one nail, and whenever I caught myself picking at my nails, I made myself take a lick. Gross, but effective. I had to reapply several times at the start. But now, after three days, I pick no more.

The Chagall print we got is Lovers in the Red Sky. Marjorie loves Chagall and goats, so it was a good choice for her, and me -- well, boobies.

It actually came mounted wrong -- with the goat at the bottom and the houses on the left. We're trying to decide whether to leave it as it is or fix it.

Happy Birthday Mom! Wish we could be there with you.

Mostly as an exercise in Google Maps, Javascript, CSS, and web hosting, I've started a page of weekly pub trivia nights here in Melbourne. Check it out, but please remember, this is not an exercise in graphic design (which I have no real flair for).