The Hitchhiker

 

A short short film made by some talented friends of mine. 

"Based on the book Roald Dahl - The Hitchhiker... Always interesting as to who you pick up or be picked up by when it comes to hitchhiking." 

 

The characterisation is brilliant, great comic timing and a very clever script. But don't you kinda just want to wash, condition and comb Jimmy's golden locks until they resemble Michael Bolton's mane? (One day, jimmy, one day!)

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the secret competition

When I played hockey and netball in high school, I was very vocal, encouraging to my team and scary aggressive to our opposition.

In board games, I oscillate between quietly strategising, flying under the radar to sniper my opponents, to wild shouting, jeering and generally attempting to demoralise anyone against me. Just the other week I was playing a console trivia game with my husband and a couple of our friends. Everyone else just went with the generic character names for their avatar, but I insisted on wasting time selecting every letter of my name in full because "I want to see my name in lights when I win". (After a nail-biting spell at the bottom of the leaderboard (with Mat taunting and laughing at me "...maybe they'll still put your name in lights out of pity?" I came back to win the game! BOOYAH!)

Post school, post my sporting years, outside of all those tangible things like awards and pats on the back all I have now is an undercurrent of secret competition with my friends. Everytime a friend acheives something or grows in some way, it frustrates me and makes me want to acheive more in my own life. My secret competition feels like envy, but it also drives me to be better, it makes me push harder, which are good things. And yet I feel embarrassed to admit it, I feel exposed and a little ashamed.

But why should I be? If it's not turning into a dark, bubbling hatred for my friends. If I'm not eating my heart out every time they come beaming with good news?

Why do we hide the fact that we secretly compare and rate ourselves against the people that we love? No, you can't admit that, because the only question that can follow such an admission is: Well, how DO you rate you against me? (What's worse admitting that they are "winning" or declaring that you're "better" than them?)

Maybe it's got something to do with not wanting to seem unhappy with an area of your life. At times the feeling like you're "losing" can be debilitating - if I think I'm just going to lose I won't want to try anymore - then I can feign sexy, mysterious nonchalance. By the way, why are aloof people so damn sexy and cool? Damn them and their steamy lack of concern... Maybe their just better at pretending they don't care than I am?

Maybe it's got to do with not wanting to come across as too ambitious and aggressive, which apparently is not very attractive behaviour (particularly for a lady). But why isn't it? Guys seem to openly compete with each other in everything - my market research of one (Mat) has revealed that he and his friends all know, who is the strongest, fastest, most disciplined, most fearless and so on. I never have these kind of conversations with girlfriends!

Are you competitive? Do you feel embarrassed about it? Do you hide it? Why is that?

Happy Birthday to me

baked by Sarah

I celebrated my  20-somethingth birthday on Monday. 

I was surprised by a largeish gathering of beautiful people in my smallish apartment. Highlights = looonnnggg table, 30 smiling faces, Slow (husband) cooked roasts. a zz cake, flowers out, pretty new tea set, generous cash gift toward a writing course, vintage tea towels...

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Page One

I am writing my first draft of my very first novel. It is glorious, hideous, joyous and grievous.

Sometimes I feel confident that Salman Rushdie had better watch his back and his Bookers. Other times I have this debilitating fear that I peaked around '92', when all I knew was primary school and navy leggings - and poetry was all about witty assonance; like pairing "heart" with "fart".  It's true, my best years may be behind me, but I can't go back there. Worst of all, I can't stay here either.

I hope this becomes my place to move forward, learn, share and, of course, whine and rant when I've exhausted my resources of gracious, patient friends.