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Lunchbox Guy [23 Jun 2007|10:50pm] If you see someone every day, twice a day, should you speak with them? Should you care about them? Should you make friends with them? I ask myself these questions whenever I seek Nik, a.k.a. Lunchbox Guy. Lunchbox Guy (in case you didn't read the post before last) is this guy who catches my bus to and from work every day. Lunchbox Guy has a Santa Claus figure, pale skin, mousey brown hair and is probably in his early thirties. I call him Lunchbox Guy because every day, he carries this large, clear lunchbox with a single sandwich inside. He does not put this lunchbox in his satchel bag- he nearly always carries it in his hand. Anyway, I used to really dislike Lunchbox Guy. The first time I ever saw him, he was talking really loud on his mobile. He voice is not overly deep, and it is kind of nasal, plus he has a Norwegian accent. So naturally, I got annoyed. And then, there was the lunchbox. It just really irritated me that he carried his lunchbox in his hand every day. It did not seem practical. Also, I wondered why this sandwich was treated with such reverance. I have tried to see what is in the sandwich, but the sandwich is so thin and flat that it does not reveal its contents. It just looks like butter, or Vegemite. So, why put such a boring sandwich in such a big lunchbox? Not that my own sandwiches are that special, though. I have since realised that my grumpy feelings towards Lunchbox Guy were, in fact, merely a projection of my own feelings towards commuting in general. I am cranky about travelling for so long to work; therefore, I am cranky towards Lunchbox Guy. However, recently, I have actually started to feel rather affectionate towards Lunchbox Guy. I first noticed these feelings when I started to actually care about him. For example: one day, Lunchbox Guy was holding his lunchbox, newspaper AND umbrella in the one hand, and he dropped them all. I felt really sorry for him. And then another day, his bus ticket wasn't working, and I was concerned that he wouldn't get to work on time. I also realised that Lunchbox Guy has quite a few good qualities. These good qualities are: 1. He always has this little half-smile, as though he is secretly pleased with something, or as though he is very content with his life. This is quite a refreshing thing to see while commuting to work. Most people (myself included) look grumpy and tired. 2. He is always at the bus stop before the bus arrives, so that when I see him, I know for sure that I have not missed the bus. 3. He seems very friendly, because he has struck up a friendship with this other guy at our bus stop. 4. He is from Norway (a fact I picked up from eavesdropping), which is quite exotic to me. 5. He is always using a very old Nokia 5110 mobile phone, which is almost retro. This week, I have noticed Lunchbox Guy standing closer to me than usual. I think he has been trying to catch my eye and chat. I don't think that he is romantically interested in me; I think that he just wants to make friends. I also don't like him "that way", because hello, I am engaged. Anyway, I don't know what to do about Lunchbox Guy now. I don't really want to talk to him or be friends with him. Because what if he is not a very nice person after all? And then, if I do end up being friends with him, I will have to talk to him every single day, twice a day, about not very nice things. I prefer just spying on him. Like, the other day, he actually carried his lunchbox in a plastic bag with his umbrella. I thought that this was so exciting, so sensational, that I almost sent Geoff a text message about it. Then again, it seems a bit mean to avoid being friends with Lunchbox Guy. I see him so frequently, it is becoming difficult to avoid him. I think that everyone has these weird, unspoken relationships. One of my friends recently told me a quote from a play: only the most magical people get spoken about. I guess Lunchbox Guy is magical in a way. He is quite intriguing, yet not in a beautiful or glamorous way. I guess I will just keep spying on him for now. I am sure that in his head, he has a funny name for me, too. I just wish I could find out what it is! Carla Gypsygirl xxx 1 comment|post comment

Definitions needed [15 Jun 2007|09:41pm] Blergh. I have the winter flu. I slept in until 2pm. Obviously, I didn't go to work. I am very grumpy at the moment. I crave alphabet pasta and chicken soup. The latter is fabled to bring one health; the former reeks of Americana. Does eating alphabet soup make you smarter? Is it like swallowing a thesaurus or dictionary? I promised myself that I wouldn't sulk this week at work. But it's been a bit tricky. I still can't figure out where I stand. One day, I came back from a trip to the bathroom to find this strange boy sitting in my office. He was like a swarthy Hobbit wearing a Justin Timberlake-style suit. Turns out that he was the freelance graphic designer who was working in my position until I was hired, and he had a lunch meeting with my manager. The rest of the day, everyone kept saying how wonderful this Hobbit was, and how he was such a great guy. And I thought, "Well, why didn't you hire him instead?" Compared to Sexyback Hobbit, I seem full of foibles and oddities- I am bitchy towards the office perve (well, he has a thing for Asian girls- what else am I to do?), I have thrown out copies of Zoo magazine that were owned by another graphic designer (what, am I to tolerate images of an orange, lingerie-clad Nikki Webster during my working hours?), and I let hardly anything stand between me and my lunch break. I wish that I were more easygoing. I am cheerful and efficient, yes; but a girl's gotta have standards. It is pretty hard to make friends at work. A few of my friends from my old department store job have been asking me to have dinner with them. That makes me feel as though I was once likeable. I love my YODS friends. I am also grumpy because I had a brief escape plan. I had an audition last Monday for a TV show, but I think I stuffed it up. I had to act all evil and seductive, which will sound pretty funny if you know me, because I am neither of those things. Anyway, I misinterpreted the script and thought I was supposed to be ditzy and lovestruck instead. Also, I had to run through my lines with this 18 year old boy, and I felt a bit too Demi Moore-like for my taste. I felt kinda weird and stupid after that audition. I mean, what sort of 25 year old girl goes around pretending to seduce young boys in her spare time? Actually, don't answer that question...I know that there are plenty of loose girls out there, I saw photos of them in that wretched Zoo magazine. Okay, okay, maybe there will be less whinging in my next post. Apologies again. Carla Gypsygirl 2 comments|post comment

From the window seat... [11 Jun 2007|07:57pm] These are all photos from my travels. Where have I been? Just working. I did wish that I had a lovely mini-holiday planned this weekend, but the flash floods have of course put that out of my mind. My new job is very far away from my home. I spend about 4 hours on public transport every day. I like to pretend that I am actually a very glamorous TV reporter who commutes daily from Sydney to Melbourne and then back again. I mean if they can do it, I can too, right? My days as a shop girl seem so long ago. My new job has not been as idyllic as I imagined. But of course, no job ever is. I do think that I am in circumstances where the nice shiny newness of a job will wear off quickly. Being on the bus for so long can make you jaded more quickly. Generally, during the past few weeks, my working hours are spent in a haze of insecurity and paranoia. I guess this also comes with the territory of having a new job- never knowing if people like you, or if you are doing your job as fast as the last person. Sometimes I wish that I could simply be myself, but not everyone likes me for who I am. For example, the other day, after finding a wet and abandoned guitar in the street outside (see the picture above), I brought it inside the office and said that I thought it would be a cool decoration. I asked if people wanted to sign it with white-out, and I joked that we could start a band. Our band name would be "The Alpen Blends", named after our favourite drinking chocolate mix. Alas, not everyone found this amusing or cool, and the guitar later found itself re-abandoned. I have begun to see familiar people during my daily travels. There is this guy that I call The Lunchbox Guy. He catches my bus and he irritates me. The main reason he annoys me is because he always carries a clear lunchbox in his hand instead of putting it in his backpack. It's so impractical! Furthermore, his lunchbox only contains one single sandwich. What is the point? Why not just shove the sandwich in the bag? Lunchbox Guy always wears an olive, polar-fleece jumper, and he has this strange smile of contentment. Through eavesdropping, I discovered that his name is Nik (he spelt it out) and he is from Norway. I am trying to like him more; it seems unfair to dislike someone for such superficial reasons. Another person I see is someone I call The Most Boring Lady In The World. I know that that is not a very nice name, but seriously, she is so boring. She is often on my evening bus, boasting to her friend of her achievements in the accounts department. She also talks about the various nasties at her work. The Most Boring Lady always wears this odd, moss-green knitted scarf with pom-poms on it. She has this long, bleached blonde hair that she wears in a plaited, high ponytail. Probably my least favourite person on public transport is The Guy Who Farted On My Morning Train. He, of course, needs no explanation. I wish that I could formally prosecute him. I mean, for goodness' sake, it wasn’t even 7am at the time of the fart, and no-one should have to be exposed to the scent of a stranger’s methane at such an undignified hour. Dear blog readers, I hope to be back in fine form soon. I hate all of this whinging. Carla Gypsygirl 5 comments|post comment

Farewell again, YODS! [18 May 2007|08:55pm] I left Ye Olde Department Store yesterday, for real. I am no longer a sales assistant. My supervisor took my swipe card, discount card and name badge, just in case I would sneak into YODS and start working for them again without their permission. My mum and sister keep saying that it's the end of an era. I had a lot of fun during my time at YODS, but I am glad that it is over. I have been really slack during my last week at YODS...turning up late, talking too much, general bludging. I wasn't sad at all to leave. I felt a soaring sense of euphoria, and I was probably both overly cheerful and overly rude to customers on my last day. My friends kept saying to me, "Don't cry, don't cry...this is for the best." But I wasn't sad! So when they presented me with a gigantic bunch of flowers, I felt really embarrassed and guilty. I mean, I was all, "Screw YODS...all of this materialism and these customers suck so much!" Anyway, I felt so guilty and bad for NOT being sad to leave, that I really DID begin to feel sad that I wasn't more caring! Then everyone kept telling me not to cry again, and people I didn't like were hugging me, and I walked out feeling all emotional and weird. I was going to go straight to Geoff's place after work, but instead, I had to take a special trip home to dump off the flowers and the contents of my locker. Once I got home, I wished that I had just handed out the flowers to people around the city. That big bunch of fluoro blooms just makes me feel bad when I look at it. Leaving places is always a very mixed and bittersweet experience. I am usually very sentimental and sensitive, but yesterday, I just wanted to leave and not have to see certain people ever again. Every time I have left a retail job, I always promise myself that I will never work in retail again. I feel like working at YODS really changed me, and mostly in a negative way. It's really unhealthy to be around so many rich, materialistic customers. I became a snob...I would scoff at anyone who carried an Oroton bag (because Oroton is SUCH a wannabe luxury label), and yet, I can't even afford an Oroton bag myself. I would want to buy new things all the time, too. I felt like people were constantly judging me on my looks, clothes and weight, and yet, I was also judging others at the same time. There are lots of things I am looking forward to, now that I am free of Ye Olde Department Store. Most of the things I am looking forward to are basic, weird things. I am excited about not having to be perfectly groomed all the time. Now, I can go to the toilet whenever I like, and I can eat while I am working. I don't have to be nice and smiley to people who are rude to me, and I won't need to keep telling Asian tourists that I can't understand them unless they speak English. It still hasn't quite sunk in that I will never, ever have to go back to work at YODS again. I still have my little "work purse" set aside...a small cosmetics bag that I carried my locker key, lip gloss, swipe card, tissues etc in. On my last day, Inga kept telling me how there was a big sale starting on Saturday, and she didn't know who was going to work in our department now that I had left. I don't know what she expected me to do- there was no way that I was going to stay at YODS. The main thing I am looking forward to is being able to get on with my life. I feel like I am about to grow up for real. 1 comment|post comment

Photo essay: Ye Olde Department Store [14 May 2007|11:36pm] I am starting my swishy new design job in exactly a week. I am not feeling sad to leave Ye Olde Department Store (not its real name, duh). I will miss my friends and the fancy bags, but yuck, there is way too much stuff there that makes me grumpy. But I am a sentimental girl, which is why I took the above pictures. There are a lot of things that people don't know about YODS. It is so beautiful and shiny and bright in the store, but behind the scenes, it's a different story. I am fascinated by all of the old, weird things lurking in the corridors and back rooms of YODS. Sometimes, I wish that customers could see the views from the top floor. But on the other hand, I am glad that they can't see how gross our locker rooms are...they would probably never shop at YODS again. One reason why I took so many photos this week is because I am suffering from blog envy! Or, maybe it is just a sort of general techie-girl envy. To explain: I am TOTALLY jealous of two girls- Cory Kennedy and Jessica Rose. I read about both of these girls in this month's issue of Jane magazine, which is a totally awesome and sparky American magazine which I pay far too much money for. Cory and Jessica are both these new-fangled Internet It Girls- Cory is famous for having her photos taken in fab clothes, and Jessica is famous for being YouTube's Lonelygirl15. I looked at Cory's blog this week, and I thought, man, why don't I have cool photos like this on my blog? So I took my camera to YODS, and look what happened! Wooo! Cory Kennedy's partying antics also made me feel like my life is a bit booooooooring. Why don't I go to cool parties like hers? So on Friday night, I went out with my YODS buddy Kade, and tried to have loads of fun. I had two drinks (choc-mint Baileys and a Malibu/pineapple, in case you wanna know) and I was very silly. We ended up phoning our mutual friend Michael and shouting stuff at him over the phone, mostly about how he was supposed to be having dinner with us, and how maybe it was true that he's a player. Then we went to another bar to meet up with some of Kade's friends. There were some New Zealander blokes there who neither of us knew. The boys all took a great deal of interest in Kade, and tried very hard to flirt with her. Kade asked one of them, Matt, what he did for a living. He said in his Kiwi accent, "I sell pipple. I'm a pemp. You both know what a pemp is, don't you? I'm going to sell my frind Devid here to you, right now." I wanted to say, "No, actually, I don't know what a 'pemp' is- we call them 'pimps' here in Australia, you greaseball." Anyway, I am not the sort of girl to moan about her looks, but that night in that fancy bar, I felt kinda ugly and nerdy. I mean, I had a big stupid bow in my hair, and I was wearing my glasses, and I was carrying a bag with knitting in it. Sure, the bag was by Ksubi, but still, who brings knitting to a bar? I went home that night and told my sister Sonya about my experience, and she said, "I hate bars on Friday nights. It's such a meat market." It's true. But I still wished that I was one of those girls in a halter top and eyeliner and shiny striaght hair that night...just to fit in. A lot of boys wanted Kade's number that night, and I wished that they wanted mine. Which is totally stupid because I have a beautiful fiance who I love. But sometimes, a girl likes to feel attractive, and not be subjected to talk about "pemps". Anyway, this is what I will be doing a lot of next month, as I travel to my new job each day... Sitting on buses, blergh! So I hope you guys don't mind if I might not update as frequently. I wish I could update more, but alas, the tyranny of time and Sydney buses! Keep reading my blog, though- I am not disappearing altogether, I will just be writing less often from next Monday and throughout June. But I will be back in full force in July, and hopefully updating more than ever? So stay tuned! See you soon... Carla Gypsygirl xxx 4 comments|post comment

Farewell, YODS! [06 May 2007|08:07pm] I arrived home tonight after a long day at Ye Olde Department Store to find my mum, dad and 10-year-old bro Zac excitedly gathered around the TV. Loud music was vibrating through the house. They were watching a DVD of a Michael Jackson concert, circa 1992- endearing yet disturbing, no? It is hard to concentrate on writing with all of this racket. I know that nothing- earplugs, MP3 players, court cases- can block out the power of MJ. So if I start to pepper my writing with MJ phrases (e.g. "It don't matter if you're black or white, eeee-heee!"), just write a little complaint in my comments section and I will deal with the matter personally. This week, in Carla Gypsygirl Land, something AMAZING happened. After a WHOLE YEAR of searching for a new job, I finally got one! Yes! It is true! I still can't quite believe it myself. I have this irrational thought that I will get a phone call and this new company will say, "Sorry Carla, we've changed our mind. We don't need you any more." I had 3 interviews with this new place, and I told myself that I would be SO angry if I didn't get the job. By the third interview, it got down to me and another applicant- I thought to myself, "I must eliminate them!" But after having already done 2 interviews, what more could I say or do? So I just bought a new top to wear to my interview, and I hoped for the best. I handed in my resignation at Ye Olde Department Store. I always find it so empowering to resign. It makes me feel mysterious and desirable, and as though I am progressing in life. Some people were surprised, which I found surprising in itself- I mean, pretty much everyone saw me that day that Inga made me blubber all over our designer handbags. My manager said, "Congratulations. You can't stay in retail forever." I felt sad about this, because obviously, SHE has stayed in retail "forever"! I wish that I could have kept working at YODS, but there are only so many rude customers, crazy colleagues and bad pay rates that a girl can take. Now that there is a job-shaped light at the end of the tunnel, I thought I wouldn't mind being at YODS so much. But I still hate it, and rich rude customers still make me mad. I wish I didn't have to give 2 weeks' notice. But at least this weekend was the last weekend I will ever have to work at YODS. I certainly feel very blessed to finally have a job. God has provided for me, and He has provided in abundance. The new company even met my salary expectations, after I told them that what they were offering wasn't quite enough! Oh, the power of being 25 and assertive. I will be working as a junior graphic designer. The senior designer I will be working with is so nice and funny. When she called me to tell me that I had the job, she put on a weird English accent and then asked me if I minded if she played R&B music in the office. Cool, hey? Anyway, this job is an answer to a LOT of prayer...I was almost about to give up on the design world and study something else. Every week at Bible study, my friends would ask, "What can we pray for you?" And it would always be the same old stuff for me- that I would stop being grouchy at my current job, and that God would provide me with a new job. I really hope this new place works out. I have a good feeling about it, though. In my contract, they even wrote down the dress code and how many sick days I would get. At the old place I worked at, when I asked my boss what the dress code was, he said, "Common sense." How can you wear common sense? Is that a new label or something? One of the most challenging things about this new job is that it is very far away from my home. I don't have a car. By public transport, I think it will take me 2 hours to get there. I think I will have to move out of home. That is pretty scary- I've never lived out of home before. Sydney is a very expensive city to live in, and I haven't been able to afford a move before. But life is too short to spend 4 hours per day on public transport. I think it will be good to move out of home. I needed a far away job to force me out- I mean, I'm 25 now! Geoff and I don't want to live together until we're married, and I don't want to move in with people I don't know. I've also heard too many stories of friendships that have been destroyed after a stint at sharing a house. I mean, if you have to share a fridge, bathroom and a toilet with anyone, there are bound to be fights sooner or later. I think that's a basic rule of life- anything that involves hygiene, food, water, money and poo can cause conflict. So I am planning to live alone. I am scared that I will get lonely. Who knows, if I move out of home, maybe I will update my blog more frequently because I'll be so bored. There are all of these things that I keep forgetting I'll need- like a microwave, a cupboard and a computer of my own. Michael is now singing "Billy Jean". Back when I was at uni, I used to do aerobics classes to this song! It took me ages to learn the routines. There was this really chunky Asian boy who would stand in the front row. He was the only boy in the class, and he was the fattest and sweatiest. But I totally respected him, because he tried so hard and danced with such enthusiasm. He was heaps better at aerobics than me, anyway! I never spoke to him- I generally don't like to speak to anyone if I am sweaty- but I have always remembered him. Speaking of Asian people, I just wanted to say something about my post last week on Asian stereotypes. I was worried that I sounded a bit too mean and sarcastic. But I can't really apologise for that, because I WAS very angry! But when I re-read over my post, I noticed that I sounded quite racist against white people. I wanted to say that I don't think that all white Australians are mean to Asians. I just had a lot of bad experiences as an Asian child, and I am still very sensitive about anything to do with my cultural heritage. I think that childhood hurt came through when I wrote about that stupid stir-fry commercial. I wanted to let y'all know that I love people of all different colours, and that I don't hate white people- especially as I am marrying a man who has such white skin that he calls it his "moontan"! Okay, I think I have procrastinated for long enough...I'd better walk away from this computer. I am just scared to leave this room in case I see Michael Jackson in a unitard or something, and I am scarred for life. I wish this DVD would be over! Love, Carla 8 comments|post comment

Stir-fry THIS! [28 Apr 2007|08:14pm] Clockwise from top left: Lucy Liu, Sandra Oh and Tia Carrere. Even these beautiful and talented women are typecast in “Asian” roles. I’ve been running back and forth between interviews and auditions. The things I’ll do for money, stability and a patch of earth to call my own! I’ve been to 8 interviews and 2 auditions this month. That’s 10 mornings when I have worried about what to wear; 10 moments of trying to convey confidence with my handshake and smile; 10 times when I have resisted the urge to shout, “STOP ASKING ME QUESTIONS AND JUST GIMME A JOB!” Things at Ye Olde Department Store are not that great. I am fighting a lot with Inga, the other lady who works in my department and who is disliked by pretty much everyone. I am entangled by a web of rumours, none of which are about me. My most interesting and humiliating job-seeking experience of late was an audition I attended for a Chinese stir-fry sauce ad. I can’t believe that I even went there in the first place. I mean, I am constantly whinging about how Asians are stereotyped in mass media. Like, Asians are so often depicted as being daft, nerdy, martial arts fiends, gullible, conservative, doctors, and only ever wearing clothes made of floral satin. And that’s only naming a few cliches. The audition was at 6.30pm, which is unusual- most auditions are on during the day. It was in an inner-city Sydney suburb, and I had to scurry through the dark and dodgy streets on my own. There was a boy and girl having a lover’s tiff outside one of the terrace houses- the girl was walking as quickly as she could while the boy shouted after her, “Well, call it, Jacinta, I want you to call it!” Jacinta then went into her terrace and locked the boy out. He stood outside her door and looked lost. Once I got to the casting agency, I was dismayed to see a whole crowd of Asian people waiting to audition. This meant that I’d have to wait ages for my turn, and also that I’d have less of a chance to get the part. But the main reason I was mad because I realised that this would be an ad full of Asian clichés. At the same time as my stir-fry ad was being cast, a McDonald’s ad was also being cast. It was obvious who was auditioning for which ad- the Asian people were waiting for the stir-fry auditions, and the blonde-haired, blue-eyed and porcelain skinned people were waiting for the McDonald’s ad. It was a load of crap, if you ask me. Because most of the McDonald’s I go to have Asian staff. And I don’t know one Asian person who uses ready-mixed stir-fry sauce from a jar. And why wouldn’t Asians be seen eating McDonald’s? Aren’t Macca’s Golden Arches one of the most recognised symbols in the world? I took a seat amongst a few Asian girls, and I heard strains of people singing the stir-fry sauce jingle. “Great- I have to sing,” I grumbled to myself. I became quite angry at myself for going along to the audition. I was in a bad mood and didn’t want to talk, but the other girls there were new to the acting scene and wanted to talk about agents, auditions and stuff. We swapped details of our cultural heritage- there was an Indonesian girl, an Australian-born Japanese/Malaysian girl, a Chinese girl and an Australian-born Chinese girl (me). One girl told me that she found it hard to find a Caucasian boyfriend who wouldn’t feel queasy about her Asian culture. After waiting for about half an hour, I went into the audition room with another girl called Sophie. The writers of the ad and the directors were sitting in there- and none of them were Asian. I felt like I was a racial novelty to them. This was one of Sophie’s first auditions, and she was pretty clueless. I felt sorry for her, because going to your first few auditions can be tough. Anyway, the casting agent told us what we’d have to do. The story was that this little boy walks through the streets, humming the stir-fry sauce jingle. Suddenly, Asian people pop out from everywhere and start running after him in a big mob, singing the jingle. Then, everyone bursts into the little boy’s house and eats the stir-fry his mum has made him. So Sophie and I had to run towards each other from opposite sides of the blue screen while singing the jingle, all while looking ecstatic and hungry. We then had to run on the spot, facing the camera, and sing the jingle at double-time. Then we had to stop singing while this stupid faux-Chinese instrumental played- you know, gongs and Chinese violins and bells and things. Then we had to gaze at the camera with open-mouthed amazement and say, “YUM!” I was trying to be polite as the casting agent briefed us, but I couldn’t help feeling really cross. I didn’t want to do such a stupid thing! And Sophie was freaking out- as a Chinese girl who had only been in Australia for a year, she had never heard of this stir-fry sauce, and she didn’t know the jingle. But I did it anyway- smiling like a Hi-5 host, hugging Sophie like she was my best friend and then gasping “YUM!” like a vaudeville vamp. Then Sophie and I had to do the whole thing again individually. I jumped around like a maniac, while Sophie swayed and stroked her long hair like a Hong Kong popstar. I felt so ashamed that I even participated in that audition. I should have walked out. But the entertainment industry in Australia is a small one, and I couldn’t risk getting a bad reputation. By participating in that audition and even thinking about being in that ad, I would be perpetuating racial stereotypes. I was selling my ancient heritage for a jar of crappy stir-fry sauce. Sure, I need more work to beef up my acting CV, and ads always pay better than films. I probably could have bought my wedding dress with what they were going to pay me. But the last thing that I want to do is sell out. God has given me my passion for acting for a reason. I think that God loves all people, whether they are white, black, brown, pink or yellow, and He has created all people with different personalities and interests. Not all Asians are mathematical geniuses who like manga. While I know that many great actors started off by doing ad work, I would prefer to be in an ad that is clever and thoughtful, that doesn’t try to define a whole race in a snappy jingle. After the audition, I just wanted to walk to the train station by myself and think over things. But Sophie wanted to walk with me. I later realised that the reason why she wanted to walk with me was because I was a living, breathing example of an Eastern Girl born in a Western World, and she wanted to ask me questions. And boy, did she have a lot of questions. Here are a few of them: “Were you popular at school because you are Chinese?” (No, I got teased mercilessly, and all I wanted to be was blonde and do physi.) “Why don’t you go home to China?” (Because I was born here, which means that China was never my home.) “Do Aussie boys think Chinese girls are sexy? Or do they think brown or white girls are more sexy? Who is the sexiest?” (I don’t know- isn’t sexiness and matter of taste?) “Why don’t you speak Chinese?” (Because my parents speak English all the time. Because I was really naughty as a kid when my mum was trying to teach me Chinese, and she got sick of me asking her how to say “bum” and “poo”.) “Do your parents mind that your fiancé isn’t Chinese?” (No, they love him.) “Are most of your friends Chinese?” (Some of them are, and some of them aren’t.) Sophie asked me these questions rather loudly, and lots of people were staring at us. Because she was talking so much and asking me so many annoying questions, we got lost and ended up having to walk an hour to get to the train station. It usually only takes 10 minutes. That boy was still waiting outside Jacinta’s door, waiting for her to come back to him. He pretended to look at his phone when we walked past, maybe in case we thought he was a pervert and called the cops. Sophie not only asked me questions, she also told me what she thought about Australia and her own future. She told me that she thought all Aussie guys were “assholes”- that all they want is sex. I told her she was just meeting the wrong guys- I think that all guys are as nice as each other, whatever their race. Everyone has a different personality. I was surprised that she knew a phrase as Australian as “assholes”, so I asked her what other phrases she had learnt. I thought she’d say, “G'day, mate!” or something, but instead, she said that she had learnt to say “stupid jerk”, “dickhead” and “f*** off.” I asked her if she could teach me how to swear in Chinese, and she said that she couldn’t. Sophie felt fine about swearing in a foreign language, but swearing in her own language was a whole other matter. I guess I felt the same way. Swearing in another language is always a bit funnier. Sophie told me about her own love life- her ex-boyfriend was an Australian boy who was 2 years younger than her who drank, smoked and worked in a warehouse. He wanted to take her to the football with his family on the weekend. “That’s a good sign!” I told her, “It means that he likes you a lot.” But she wasn’t interested. She said he was sweet, but she wanted to be with someone who could look after her financially, and who her parents would approve of. “A Chinese guy would treat me like a princess. I would have no problem getting a boyfriend in China. In China, I’m a playgirl.” I don’t think she meant to say playgirl, though. I think that she just meant that she got a lot of male attention in China. Anyway, Sophie said that she wanted to get married to a rich boy who would buy her designer things. I asked her, “Why don’t you just get a job and buy all of that stuff yourself? That's what I'd do, anyway. I'd rather know that I worked hard for what I bought.” Sophie looked at me like I was crazy and said that that wouldn’t be fun at all- after all, what else were boys good for? When we finally reached the train station and parted ways, I realised that even though I thought Sophie was supremely irritating, I was as interested in her life in the East as she was interested in my life in the Wild West. It shocks me how two people can both look Chinese, but have completely different backgrounds. Sometimes, I wish that I could be more Chinese. I wish that I could order weird Chinese desserts at yum cha without thinking that they were freaky-looking and probably yucky, and I have often wondered what life would be like if I was engaged to a Chinese boy. But, having seen a couple of different countries around the world, I also know what a wonderful country Australia is. Sometimes, I am really surprised by how ocker my accent is. I know that if I were to move to another country and live there for the rest of my life, I would always talk about Australia and what my life was like in that beautiful, sunny country. I am very proud of my cultural heritage, and I admire everything my grandparents and father went through to settle down in Australia- in a time where many non-Asians thought they were savages. I also love being Australian. My cultural identity is something that I will always question and struggle with, and I didn’t appreciate being asked such personal questions by someone I didn’t even know. I also didn’t like having my cultural heritage summarised into a few lyrics, cheongsams, gongs and gestures. I think that you can't help where you are born and who you fall in love with, and so people shouldn't question you over it. I still haven’t heard back about that stir-fry ad. But there are some things that you just can’t compromise- like your integrity. If they offer me the role, I won’t take it- fancy wedding dress or not. I would rather cook a stir-fry from the recipe that my mum has given me than use that manufactured, bland crap from the supermarket. 12 comments|post comment

Can gossip and truth be the same thing? [17 Apr 2007|12:09am] Lately, when I work at Ye Olde Department Store, I have been hearing lots of juicy gossip. Sometimes, the gossip is funny, and sometimes, it's true. But today, one of my YODS friends told me something about another YODS worker that really shocked me. I don't know who is telling me the truth- the person who told me the story, or the person who I thought I knew well. I'm the first to admit that I love a good goss session. I'm always reading celebrity gossip sites. And in my own life, it's always interesting to hear about how those I know can present themselves differently to others. However, I always underestimate how destructive gossip can be. Now that I have heard this rumour about my YODS friend, I don't know if I can treat them in the same way any more. I think the rumour might be true, because this friend of mine has been known to do other similar, silly things. I don't know what I prefer- to know the truth, or to have a cheerful, ignorant friendship. I was thinking about the various rumours circulating at YODS, and I realised that when you take the people and the contexts away, they just sound like regular, boring rumours that do the rounds in any workplace. Or in any place where a bunch of people meet, actually. Here are the latest YODS rumours: > Someone A is a goody-goody > Someone B is probably clinically crazy > Someone C sleeps around and leads people on > Someone D is gay > Someone E is actually really nasty and bitchy > Someone F is moody at work, but super-friendly when out > Someone G is a party animal > Someone H spends all of their salary on designer clothes > Someone I has eaten at a fancy restaurant and then run away to avoid paying the bill See what I mean? Fascinating, but also cliched. One of the main things I think of when I hear a juicy bit of gossip is this Bible verse: "The words of a gossip are like choice morsels; they go down to a man's inmost parts." Proverbs 26:22 Gossip always seems irresistable and satisfying, but it sticks inside of us. It sticks like a swallowed piece of chewing-gum- you remember the rumour every time you see the person. I don't know if there is any solution to bad gossip. I know that you can say, "Don't tell me, I don't want to know!", but what if it's true? What if the person telling the story is trying to protect you? I know that I have told people things so that I can warn them about what someone is really like. And also, it feels so good to find out bad things about someone you don't like. My personal solution is to pray...to pray that God will show me who the real person I'm dealing with is, away from all the gossip. And that I will be both open-minded and wary. I think it would also be good if I prayed for the person who is supposedly doing silly things. I'll need to remember that next time I see them. 4 comments|post comment

When having a No. 1 single isn't enough [08 Apr 2007|09:12pm] Happy Easter! What did you get up to this Easter? My fiance, Geoff, has an annual Easter lunch with his extended family, which I have always thought to be strange. I usually just hang out with my little, immediate family over Easter. But I hear that lots of people have big family gatherings this time of year. I like Easter. As I headed off to church on Friday morning, I looked at the green trees and felt the crisp air, and I really felt like it was Easter. And, of course, I do love hot cross buns and chocolate. I have been in a poo-poo mood this Easter long weekend, though. I will be working throughout the whole long weekend, except for Friday. I didn't think that this would bother me too much- I mean, I get extra money from Ye Olde Department Store because it's a public holiday. As a Christian, Easter is a great time for me to see Jesus' death and resurrection honoured and remembered. But, again, as a committed Christian, I try to live my life in a way that honours and remembers Jesus every single day. So I figured that I wouldn't mind working during Easter. But this weekend, I have been so sulky. It just feels wrong to be selling handbags to rich people instead of being at church. I've just wanted to be quiet and spend time with my family and friends. Before working at YODS, I hadn't worked an Easter public holiday for a few years. It has been bumming me out to see relaxed, holidaying people swan around YODS all day. There's the usual things that bug me, like hoity-toity customers. But mostly, I have felt uncomfortable with watching so much mass consumerism when I just want to be reflecting on Jesus and hanging out with my church family. It's a tricky conundrum- if I wasn't working, I might have been shopping anyway to relax. Then I would just be perpetuating the angst of the other people working during Easter. And what about the poor bus driver who drove me to YODS? The head spins. Let's all go off to Hawaii instead...I wish! If only! On another note, I would like to present to you my latest opinions on music videos. If you are a long-term reader of my blog, you will know that I have been long-devoted to music videos. I love how they are these mini movies that can just be anything you want- fantastical, subtle, shocking. And yet, all of these videos are all linked together by music. I often relate events in my daily life to film clips- like, when I'm on a treadmill at the gym, how could I not think of that OK-Go DIY clip? But lately, I have been reading some pretty amazing and addictive books,* so I haven't had as much time for music vids as usual. And now that I have started to watch music videos again, I have noticed a few things in particular. Hence: Carla's latest opinion of current music videos! Okay, so what is it with singers and bands thinking that they are movie stars? I am all for music clips having plots- I mean, duh, they would be boring without plots. And I like little interludes where there is just acting. But for me, what makes a good music clip is if there is good acting in it to go with the good plot. I think it is good when creative people want to explore other creative areas- I mean, I am always swapping between designing, acting, drawing, writing, etc. But can too much of a good thing be bad, especially when it involves Scarlett Johansson? Case study 1: Justin Yes, you read correctly: I don't like Justin Timberlake's new music clip for What Goes Around . "How is this possible?" I hear you gasp. "But Carla, you love pop music, and you love Justin's new album, and you loved Scarlett Johansson in Lost in Translation!" Yes, all of those are true. But, but, but. Okay, first of all, I think that the song What Goes Around is just a rehashed version of Justin's Cry Me a River. There's the layered, soft vocals; the synth in the background; the strings; the syncopated rhythm; the "girl, you're a bitchin' heartbreaker" theme. And the clip just tries a bit too hard for my liking. There's the unoriginal plot- a boy falling for a high-class ho (that's what Scarlett is in the clip, right?). Does this remind anyone of Moulin Rouge? And then, there are the ridiculous, melodramatic interludes. Kids, just because you are swearing and running and crashing cars, that doesn't make you a good or interesting actor. There's this bit where Scarlett screams, "YOU DON'T F***ING KNOW ME!" and then Justin yells in reply, "I F***ING KNOW YOU. I F***ING KNOW YOU!" Yeesh. This middle dramatic bit made me roll my eyes. Like, who cares? Oooh, Justin and Scarlett know the F word. Big deal. And next, for the music video that everyone loves to hate... Case study 2: 30 Seconds to Mars Now, Jared Leto (lead singer of 30 Seconds to Mars) really is an actor, and I loved him in My So-Called Life. I think he acts well in this music video, From Yesterday. But, as you may have heard, this music video goes on FOREVER. You could prepare and cook a 3-course meal in the time this clip takes. Well, not really, but you get what I mean. Like Justin's latest clip, there are long, cheesy interludes where there is no music, and just lots of dramatic gazes and slow-motion, bad-ass strutting. This music clip is set in China, and from what I gather, the guys in the band are on a mystical journey of some sort. Along the way, they meet lots of Chinese stereotypes- members of an ancient dynasty, pretty girls in cheongsams, spooky people in opera makeup, martial arts wizards. To be completely honest, I think that this clip is very beautiful and dramatic, and I wish that my agent had told me about the auditions. But while I'm watching the music video, this little voice (probably Elijah Wood, who hates Jared's band) inside my head says, "This is a MUSIC CLIP. What's with all the talking? When will this clip end? I just wanna see Fergie's latest! Hurry up!" And a voice beside me (Geoff's) shouts at the TV, "YOU'RE IN A BAND! YOU'RE A MUSICIAN! STOP BEING SO SELF-INDULGENT! JUST PLAY MUSIC AND STOP THESE STUPID ACTING BITS!" When Jared Leto gets an ancient scroll (Chinese cliche #1352) and reads in a hushed, grizzled voice, "This is the gift?" and then the chorus plays another 3 times, I just think, "Okay, enough's enough. I get that you guys totally dig being in a music clip- I totally feel it. But play nicely and give the other bands some airtime, 'kay?" Case study 3: Avril Now, lil' Avril always gets lots of criticism, and it's usually because people think she is trying to be something she's not. People complain that she is trying to be punk, that she's trying to be glamorous, that she's trying to be pop. And Avril retaliates with spit, punches and carefully worded statements in interviews. The poor girl can never win. I was instantly enthralled by Avril when I heard Complicated back in 2002. She just seemed so new and different. I knew that her whole skater-girl, tomboy thing was probably a big marketing scam, but I didn't care anyway. Here was a girl who was acting like a girl, and not some oversexed, choreographed pop kitten. I thought that Avril was a great example for young girls, and I listened to her debut album a couple of hundred times. But eventually, I got embarrassed about liking Avril so much- I mean, I was 21, and most of her fans hadn't even gone through puberty yet. Anyway, even though I don't have Avril's sophomore album, I've still watched her career with interest. That girl always manages to surprise- who would have thought that she would have gone blonde and then gotten married in a big, white meringue dress? Now, being well-versed in the world of pop music, I know that pop stars change their style and image a lot. It is a vital, accepted part of their career. And yet, I was still surprised and a bit uncomfortable after seeing Avril's music clip for her new single, Girlfriend. In this video, Avril does lots of very un-Avril things: she wears short shorts, she does this goofy skit where she wears different wigs, and (most shockingly of all) SHE DOES CHOREOGRAPHED, BOUNCY DANCING WITH BACKUP DANCERS! And the song itself doesn't have that trademark Avril Angst- instead, the song is like a cross between a Ramone's track and that 80's song Hey Mickey. I don't really know what to think. I mean, I dig the new Avril, with her cute songs, nice hair and cool dance moves. But there is a part of me that also misses that bratty rebel I loved. Because sometimes, I really do just want to wear heaps of black eyeliner and ignore people I don't like, just like Avril used to do. Oh, and also write mean songs about boys I used to like, and then make millions of dollars from it. Case study 4: Alanis Now here, dear friends, is a music video that I love! Alanis Morissette has recently done a cover of The Black Eyed Peas' My Humps. I love how Alanis has covered a song that people wouldn't expect- who would have thought that ol' naval-gazing, sulky Alanis would cover some poppy froth? And Alanis does a great, satirical job of it, too. Her lilting voice make the lyrics sound so funny while also highlighting the trademark BEP catchy melody. And the music clip is hilarious! It's pretty lo-fi- no flashy graphics or lighting here, folks- but Alanis gives it her all, doing Fergie's bootyshakin' and posing. While I watched the video and saw Alanis dance around while wearing huge hoop earrings, I thought, "Ouch, that's gotta hurt her earlobes. But boy, is she cool." And I didn't think that I would consider Alanis to be "cool", especially as I recently heard a muzak version of one of her songs at YODS. I read that Fergie loved Alanis' cover of My Humps so much that she sent Alanis some flowers! I would send Alanis some flowers too, but, you know, I don't have her address and stuff. And here ends another post...tell me which music clips you love and hate! Love lots, Carla x *In case you are wondering, these are the books I have been reading: Girl, Interrupted, by Susanna Kaysen The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, by Haruki Murakami Norwegian Wood, by Haruki Murakami Marie Antoinette: The Journey, by Antonia Fraser All of these books are wonderful, and I heartily encourage you to read them. 6 comments|post comment

Aging, banking and a chocoholic's dream [03 Apr 2007|02:49pm] I am doing a bit of a Miro at the moment. Explanation: famed artist Miro would not eat for ages and ages, in the hope that it would make his art more fluid and natural. I have just been too busy to eat my lunch yet, and now that it's past 3pm, I'm feeling my mind begin to blur over. But let's just pretend that it's all an artistic experiment to make my writing better. So, when it rains it pours, and equally, when it's a desert, it's all dry and crappy with no oasis in sight. Can both of these weather types exist at once? In Carla Gypsygirl Land, they do. Okay, so the desert thing: my current work really sucks right now. Inga, the lady I work with, made me cry the other day, and I had to flee Ye Olde Department Store with my red eyes hidden behind dark glasses. I took refuge in a nearby Starbucks and whimpered to my fiance on the phone. I hoped that some rich executive would turn around and say, "You know, I am looking for a new employee, and you, little lady, are just who I am looking for!" But alas, that did not happen. Basically, at Ye Olde Department Store (YODS), Inga does not like the fact that I am not her actual, physical, workaholic clone, and also, I lack the ability to read her mind. So, with the humiliation of tears at YODS ever-fresh in my mind, I embarked on an attempt to find more work. And, don't laugh, but this hunt for work resulted in me trying to get a job at a bank. I really admire bank workers, but I am not a banky person myself. I think I am a bit too silly for that type of serious work. But I wanted to get out of Ye Olde Department Store any way that I could. So, for this bank job, I did an epic online application, 2 phone interviews, plus the 2 ridiculous online tests. One of the tests was a maths test, and the other was a personality test. The personality test asked questions like this: "Which of the following statements do you agree with more: 'I try to get even with others if they put me down', or, 'I work better when I have set goals'?" I mean, hello, why not just ask me point blank: "Are you a psycho? Are you controlling? Do you lie? Do you steal?" I mean, I prefer honesty to psychological mumbo-jumbo. Anyway, I failed one or both of those tests, because the next day, a girl from the bank called to say that I didn't get the job. And you know what ? I burst into tears and couldn't do anything else productive for the rest of the day. You see, the day before that rejection, I also didn't get this fashion design job that I knew I could do. I could have done that fashion job standing on my head, underwater and in a paper bag. You know what I mean. When I face so much rejection, I start to think, "How could that company do this to me? Don't they know how much this breaks my heart and crushes my spirit?" Okay, now onto the rain. So, Carla Gypsygirl might not be able to get a job behind a desk. But will that stop her from earning a living? I say NO! My agent Dhebbii (her name is actually Debbie, but she likes alternate spellings) called me last Wednesday and said those magic words: "I have an audition for you." But then, some complications emerged- it was an audition for a chocolate ad, where I would be playing SOMEONE'S MOTHER. As you will know, people often assume that I am actually 10 years younger than my true age (which is 25, in case you were wondering). Like, the other day, when my sister and I went to vote, the guy at the desk asked me, "Have you voted before?" And I wanted to shout, "I AM 25! I am old enough to remember who Bob Hawke is, you fool!" So, while I would relish the opportunity to have a fake child and fake husband, I did not believe that I could pull off being someone's mum. But Dhebbii reassured me: "Don't worry- just make sure you don't go in there looking like your usual, youthful self. Wear something sensible. Do your hair and makeup differently." So I thought long and hard how I could age myself. You can buy fake eyelashes at M.A.C, but can you buy fake wrinkles anywhere? What do mums these days wear? I mean, all mums are different. On the day of the audition, I settled for wearing more makeup and dressing less like a rock star and more like someone with a mortgage. I slathered foundation all over my face, put on tons of blusher and eyeshadow and wore a long, flowy skirt. My face felt like a brick wall and my long skirt kept getting in the rain puddles, but I was convinced I looked at least 30. The audition was much better than that stupid drug awareness audition, and yesterday, I found out that I have been short-listed for the ad. Hurrah! I also asked the casting people if I would get to eat chocolate, even though my character in the ad doesn't. And they assured me that there would be loads of chocolate lying around on the set. Woo hoo! As the saying goes, when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. But as I say, when you get lemons, throw them back, run away and drink a good hot chocolate instead. I have also started to paint again, which is very scary for me, but also fulfilling and engaging. I am also auditioning for something else this week- a short film that has a hint of The Rocky Horror Picture Show about it. My life may not be raking in the bucks, but at least I can say that I am feeling more creatively stimulated than usual. And I have nice friends, too. Carla Gypsygirl xxx 4 comments|post comment

For richer, for poorer, in shopping and at the football... [24 Mar 2007|10:13pm] The last time I saw something like this, it was at the Boxing Day sales. I have become invincible and eternally lovable in the eyes of my fiancé. Why? Because, dear friends, I finally attended a football game with him. I have been to the footy with Geoff once before, but I only went along so that my little brother would have a friend there. Last Monday was the first time that I went with no excuses. Pre-Geoff, I had vowed that I would never marry a boy who liked sport. I have since discovered, however, that boys who don’t like sport are rare indeed. I’ve only had one other boyfriend apart from Geoff, and I have avoided writing about him all of these years because he broke my heart SO badly. Anyway, heartache aside, my ex was pretty apathetic towards sport, which I found to be impressive. However, this ex turned out to be crazy- and I mean, like, actually crazy. And not Girl Interrupted crazy- self-induced, cocaine-and-LSD-addled crazy. So anyway, I guess that having a boyfriend/fiancé who likes sport ain’t that bad. I mean, I’d rather be with a guy who expresses his frustration by yelling at a footy team, instead of being with a guy who pops lots of pills and spazzes out on the dance floor. So, for other girls who are as clueless about footy as I am, here is my guide to attending a football game. And guys, you can read along and laugh… The girl’s guide to footy- what to expect, and what to do. By Carla Gypsygirl. Feel the hate Silly me, I thought that going to see a football game was all about cheering your team on and having laughs. I imagined bracing winds, hot chips and team songs. But no- going to see a football game is all about HATE. Forget about feel-good movies and shopper’s adrenaline- men like doing things that get the hate stirring within them. I first experienced the hate when Geoff and I were catching the bus to Aussie Stadium. The East Sydney Roosters (Geoff’s team) and the South Sydney Rabbitohs were playing, and unfortunately, Geoff and I were the only Roosters supporters on the bus. We were standing up and squashed next to some young Rabbitohs fans. They joked about how our team sucked, then they talked in hushed voices about how all Roosters fans were actually violent psychos. During the game, the Roosters played abysmally. Geoff’s brother, Dave, expressed his rage by shouting in the general direction of Russell Crowe, the benefactor of the Souths: “F--- you, Rusty!” And after some elderly Souths fans continued to jeer at our Roosters, Dave turned around and bellowed, “Get some teeth!” After the game, all of the jubilant Rabbitohs fans seemed to be cheering and sneering directly in our faces. It was then that I learnt that hating the opposition is not enough- if your team loses, you must also hate your own team. “Stupid Roosters,” Geoff muttered, all the way home. Team spirit = sexy If you want to impress your boyfriend at the footy (I mean, why else would I have gone?), forget wearing fancy perfume, skinny jeans, or even your new cool t-shirt with pictures of Cheeseburgers on it. What will really impress your man is if you are decked out in his team’s colours. Of course, I didn’t own anything vaguely football related, so Geoff dropped a few hints: “See that girl over there, honey? You could also wear Dior sunnies with your Rooster’s jersey!” Now, I am all for being an independent woman- as Destiny’s Child says, “The shoes on my feet, I bought it! The clothes I’m wearing, I bought it! The rock I’m rocking, I bought it! Cos I depend on me!” But when your man would prefer you to wear generic footy gear instead of stylin’ designer clothes? Get him to fund your new look himself! I ain’t gonna look like some boring jock girl if I have to pay for it myself! Geoff ended up buying me a Roosters scarf, which I thought was very sweet. Sure, I would have preferred a cashmere Burberry scarf, but you know, I’m just grateful that he doesn’t go for the Tigers, because their colours are way unflattering. Orange and black, ew! It’s not Halloween, people! Express emotion, but don’t expect sympathy Because his beloved team was losing, Geoff spent most of the match with his face in his hands. And when he wasn’t doing that, he was shouting at the field and expressing general despair. As Geoff’s fiancée, I tried my best to offer the care and comfort that can only come from a woman. I laid my hand on Geoff’s shoulder and said, “Oh, don’t worry, honey! Maybe next game, they’ll be better. It’s okay.” But alas! Geoff was not in need of my sympathy! Instead, he pushed my hand aside and said hastily, “Shh, shh, I’m fine.” He then proceeded to shout more at his team for being clumsy oafs and generally foolish. It was here that I learnt my vital lesson: a man goes to the football to reaffirm his masculinity. He does not need his fiancée cooing and offering him tissues and a cuddle. So instead, I alternated between agreeing with Geoff and just spacing out. This seemed to work better. Later, Geoff did admit, “It’s better to just keep criticising your team and shouting at them.” Save your questions for later Once again, because Geoff was quite…emotional during the game, I decided to suspend my football-related questions for after the game. This proved to be an excellent decision. Not only was Geoff impressed by my vague interest, he could also briefly forget about his team’s failure as he explained the nuances of rugby league. By the way, did you know, a “knock-on” has nothing to do with getting “knocked up”? I mean, I guess that it makes sense, because guys never have to worry about getting pregnant. Expect conversations with strangers After the football game, Geoff and I headed off to Macca’s in our Roosters scarves and jerseys. It was 10.30pm, and I was all hungry and delirious. As I gazed up at the menu, the McDonald’s boy said to me, “I’m sorry for your loss.” I thought to myself, “How does this young man know that I missed out on having dinner? This is amazing!” Then he started to mention all of these foreign names like Mini, Wingy…were these new McDonald’s mascots? And then I realised: he was talking about football, because he had seen my Roosters scarf! So Geoff and the boys working at Macca’s started to talk about footy, and I was thinking, “Um, excuse me? My McChicken meal?” So girls, don’t wear your team colours when you are ordering dinner unless you want to be hungry for a looooong time, and unless you like talking to random boys. But then again, if you are a single girl, maybe it’s the way to go. And when I ordered a soft-serve cone, one of the boys made me a gigantic serving. It was like two ice-cream’s worth in the one cone! And that, dear friends, is not something to be laughed at. Relive the moment So, foolishly, I thought that just going along to the game was enough. Even though I was flipping through a magazine for some of the time, I thought that just sitting there would do the trick. But no- I soon learnt that I should have also PAID ATTENTION to the game! Why? Because Geoff likes to relive every moment of the game with his friends! Remember that pass? Remember that tackle? Remember that kick? Um, no. But I do now, especially after I heard you guys talk about it for half an hour. ***** That’s a lot of advice from me for this week, so I’d better sign off. Let me know if I am right or wrong, and if I have just done a terrible thing for the feminist movement. Ta-ta, Lala xxx 8 comments|post comment

The plight of the actress continues... [14 Mar 2007|11:19pm] I swear, I have been so out of control with my temper this week. Like, today, after only being at work for 5 minutes, I got SO MAD that I considered just walking out! I toyed with the idea of resigning- it would be dramatic and fun. But, ya know, drama and fun don't pay the bills, people. And then, that dude Nutella (see my last post) was getting in my way again by literally trying to snuggle up to me. I mean, why would he do that? He doesn't like girls! Anyway, I ended up telling him tersely, "Get outta my way before I kick your arse!" Which, as you might recall, was the exact same thing that I told him to do last week. This explosion of mine was accompanied by a chorus of my friends saying, "Oooooh!" This lady Inga who I work with was annoying me SO MUCH today, to the point where I just said to her, point blank, "I don't actually have any idea what you are talking about." I did heaps of work for her on the weekend, and then she came in and said I did ALL of it wrong, and so she spent a whole two days doing it AGAIN, and then lecturing me on it! And, finally, I got so furious and frustrated with all of those boring rich customers with their Gucci/Louis Vuitton/Chanel/Chloe etc etc bags being rude and generally irritating, that I literally had to keep repeating to myself, "Do not hit anyone. Do not hit anyone." Like, just before we were about to close on Saturday night, this lady came up to me and started to tell me about her opinions about all of the latest It bags. Like, not in a friendly-conversation way, but in an I'm-a-little-crazy-but-also-rich-and-I-can-waste-so-much-of-your-time kinda way. I mean, why would I be interested in her knowledge of designer bags? Just because someone is wealthy, it doesn't make them instantly interesting. On the weekend, I served so many girls who are probably still teenagers, who spend all of their time shopping for designer things using their parents' money. Great way to help the world, girls- I'm glad to see where the feminist revolution has brought us! Whew! So tonight, when I was hanging out at my friend Jamie's place for a Bible study, I asked everyone to pray that I would be patient and not so cranky. Because, obviously, that is something that I need to work on. I think that I am just feeling majorly frustrated with life at the moment. Even though I am constantly applying for jobs, it is still hard to get employed. And, even though I said I wasn't feeling Sunset Boulevard before, that Sunsetty feeling is definitely sinking in now. I mean, one moment, I am on set with celebrities and up-and-coming actors. The next, I'm back at work with one colleague telling me that I am fat, and the other telling me that my shoes are ugly and "chunk-a-rama". It's hard not to feel a bit lost and let down. The acting opportunities have been looking a bit more promising than usual, but it seems like it's all opportunities but no action. My agent called and asked if I wanted a non-speaking role in a local hospital drama, and all I did was scream in reply. I spent the next few days wondering what sort of non-speaking it role would be. Would I be playing a distraught girlfriend? A dead person? A nurse who just nods and passes things to the surgeon? A refugee who can't speak English? But alas, that particular job didn't come through. But then on Friday, my agent called and said that I had an audition for an ad. The ad was one that warned people about the dangers of using drugs. I had to play an office girl who is concerned for her drug-addled colleague. I got really excited about this, too, because ads are worth LOTS of money for us actors- thousands! Unfortunately, I don't think that I got that role, either. This is what happened at the audition on Monday... Carla walks into a small room where a video camera is set up. The director asks her to stand facing the camera, and then turn to the side, and then look over her shoulder, and then do it all again but in reverse. Carla stuffs it up the second time, and feels like a moron. She thinks, "Damn! And this is only basic gross motor stuff!" Director: Okay, so your colleague is sitting in front of you. He's just taken some illegal drugs. He's rubbing his hands together and just looking weird. You're concerned for him, and you're chatting with your boss about it. You're saying, "Oh, he looks bad...I think I should get him a drink of water." Carla: (nodding vigorously) Okay. Director: Okay...(he steps behind camera) and, action! Carla: (screws up face and whimpers) Oh my gosh...look at him! I can't believe it...Andrew is acting so weird lately! I don't know what to do! (Carla sobs a bit) Director: Just take it back a bit. Carla: What? Director: I mean, you look like you're crying. Just act concerned. And don't talk. Carla: Okay. Sorry. Director: Okay, here we go again...action! Carla: (Looks worried but does not do any wrinkle-inducing faces. Looks at her invisible collegue and then back to her invisible boss a few times. Takes a few deep breaths.) Director: (after 20 seconds) Thanks, that'll do. Carla: Do I need to sign anything else? Director: No, you can go now. And that was it! I took 3 hours off work (and caught a $15 taxi!) for an audition that went for less than 5 minutes, for a role I probably won't get! I felt so sad after this...I really feel like I didn't get that role. So, poo poo. I can't think of anything else to write today, so hopefully next time I write it will be more cheerful news. I'm going to bed to sulk now, and, more importantly, to pray. Lala 2 comments|post comment

Respectable rebels [04 Mar 2007|01:52pm] Hey hey, loyal readers! The truth in Carla's life is that she is feeling despondent...acting and design jobs are about as rare as Sydney rainfall. So, there ain't that much exciting to report. Instead, I will give you the lowdown on what's goin' on in my head, which is always more interesting than real life! Potter = Hotter! As a young Asian actress, one of my dream roles was to play Harry Potter's love interest, Cho Chang. Unfortunately, this role has already gone to a teenage actress who is probably 10 years younger than me. Plus, Cho ends up being a bit of a crazy, unstable, crying chick anyway. So I will just have to hope that the Sex and the City folks will make a movie about Carrie and the girls, set 16 years in the future, and I will get to play Charlotte's adopted Chinese daughter. And maybe then those mean Chanel sales assistants in the Sydney boutique will actually talk to me! Anyway, dream roles aside, let's talk about all things hotter...Harry Potter! Or Daniel Radcliffe, as he is professionally known. As you may know, Daniel Radcliffe, who plays Harry Potter in the films, has taken on the lead role in the play Equus. In this London play, our dear Daniel does a 10-minute scene in the nuddy. What I would like to say in regards to this is: I am SO PROUD of Daniel Radcliffe! Not because he got nude, but because he has taken his job as an actor SERIOUSLY, by taking risks and by appearing in a great play. In a world where showbiz kids are more known for their social antics than their artistic endeavours, Daniel Radcliffe stands head, shoulders and nuddy bits above the crowd. Even the best of us want to rebel as we grow up, but do we see Daniel hanging out at Hyde, spewing on himself or starring in his own crappy reality TV show? No! Instead, dear Danny is working hard at being a serious actor, and getting smashing reviews while he is at it! Daniel rebels within his art form, and in a tasteful way, too. Um, hello, Equus is a totally famous and clever play. And if Daniel is prepared to get nude and risk public embarrassment for the sake of being taken seriously, then good for him! I mean, geez, I was scared enough to appear on film in a one-piece swimming costume. TV, TV, TV! Oh my gosh, there is SO MUCH good TV on at the moment. To be frank, I don't usually watch that much TV, because I am usually 1) on the bus; 2) reading a book; 3) doing housework; or 4) clicking away at good blogs on the Internet. But this season's offerings have been too good to pass up. First of all, Brothers and Sisters on Channel 7 (for you Oz readers!) is a great show to watch if you are a bit of an acting nerd, like me. I mean, who can pass up a show with acting heavyweights like Sally Field, Rachel Griffiths and Calista Flockhart in the cast? I also like Brothers and Sisters because it's not as silly as so many of the other popular shows out there. Sure, I love Desperate Housewives every now and then, but the whole Stepford Wives-meets Raymond Chandler-in techniciolour thing does wear thin every once in a while. And I do get tired of seeing skinny ladies making out constantly with oily blokes. Um, plot please! Of course, us Aussies also love seeing local actors like Rachel Griffiths making it big in the US! Ugly Betty is also a super show. I am a big fan of The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants books, and America Ferrera (who plays Ugly Betty) has a lead role in the film, so I already had a soft spot for this new TV show. I think that everyone loves stories about misunderstood underdogs. I also feel that I can relate to Betty, in her plight to get a job. And who doesn't relate to feeling left out and dorky every now and then? Having had glasses AND braces at the same time, I feel like I have been a Chinese version of dear Betty. Ugly Betty borrows heavily from any TV show or movie that has covered the fashion industry- the office looks like the one from Audrey Hepburn's Funny Face, and the mag hag jargon can be recognised from The Devil Wears Prada. But Ugly Betty still feels fresh and original. Perhaps it is because, for once, the female protagonist is not a skinny, sexy babe...and she is also not going to morph into one any time soon. It's about time that we saw women who look more like us on the telly (for better or for trakky-dak worse!), instead of these scary, skinny, weird and Botoxed fashionistas. I have only just started to watch Extras recently, however, I feel like I am already part of the in-joke crowd. Especially when I know actors and extras who really do act like prats. Also, how can you go wrong with guest stars like David Bowie and D. Radcliffe? Rocky, you can do it! Bet you didn't think I was the type of girl to love the newest Rocky movie, Rocky Balboa. I mean, it's a movie that has sport in it (yuck!), and trying to decipher Stallone's slurring is like watching a foreign film. But, as I said before, I do love a story about an underdog! Rocky is such a sweet character- he tries hard, talks funny, wears a cool hat, is a genuine nice guy, loves his wife (even though she is deady-bones), makes bad jokes and owns his own restaurant. Rocky Balboa is like a good McDonald's Cheeseburger. You know it's a bit generic, and you wonder whether some bits are recycled meat, but it is also so delicious and cheesy that you can't help but devour it and feel all good and warm afterwards! Man, if I have a son, I so wanna call him Rocky! Being fat Okay, there are certain rules in life that everyone should know, and one of them is that you should NEVER, EVER say that a girl looks fat. Especially not to her face! There is this dude at my work who is notorious for commenting on the weight of his female co-workers. And I have become his latest victim! The other day, one of the girls at work measured my shoulders so that they could order in a new uniform for me. While I was innocently spraying and wiping down our glass cabinets, this evil boy (who I will call Nutella) struts by, and the following conversation took place: Nutella: Hee hee, my measurements are smaller than yours! Carla: Excuse me? Nutella: I saw your measurements, and mine are smaller than yours! Hee hee! I am sooooo skinny! Carla: (aims cleaning fluid gun at Nutella's face) Are you saying that I'm FAT? If you are, then I am going to spray this IN YOUR FACE! Nutella: I am skinnier than you! I am soooooo skinny! My measurements are smaller than all girl's measurements! I read Megan Gale's measurements, and mine are smaller than hers! I am girl's size six! Carla: I totally don't care. Go and tell Nicole Ritchie, because I really don't care how skinny you are. Nutella: I love being thin! Carla: Look, if you don't get the hell out of here, I'm going to kick your skinny arse! And with that, Nutella left. My gosh, what a weirdo. I think Nutella thinks that he can get away with these disgusting comments because 1) English is his second language, and 2) he is attracted to boys, and not girls. But those are not good enough excuses for me. You should never comment on anyone's weight, ever. And who cares if I am fat? Which, for the record, I'm not. But even if I was, why should it matter? Geez. Being fat can't stop anyone from helping others, or being kind, or being a kick-arse singer like Aretha. Anyway, my theory is that Nutella is hella jealous of me because I have boobs and he doesn't. There's one thing you truly can't change, and that's genetics and gender, darling! *** Okay loves, that's enough for today! Hope you're all well and getting into the weekend groove! Until later! Lots of love, Lala xxx 5 comments|post comment

Try to leave me after you've seen me dressed like this... [19 Feb 2007|11:15pm] Looking indescribably sexy while in costume on my last day of filming! I know that if Justin Timberlake saw me looking like this, he'd say, "Damn, girl, you're so fine!" I finished up filming last Wednesday. Geoff drove me to and from the location, which was 1 hour away from where we live. He said that that was my Valentine's Day present, and seeing as he woke up at 4am to get me there, I said, "Okay." But it's Tiffany's next time, people! No excuses! No excuses! I was pretty worried about my last day of filming for my movie. All of the actors playing school kids (around 7 of us) hadn't been on set for a whole month. I was worried that my body might have forgotten how to swim. Plus, I was still sick. But it all went well, and I even managed to get through the scenes where I had to tread water while fully clothed in pink pyjamas. All of us actors were also getting along better than last time...we weren't as tired or grumpy anymore. So now that I don't have to worry about fitting into a geeky swimming costume, I'm back to my usual donuts and chocolate. It's nice not having to dash off to the pool to practice swimming all the time, too. It's so strange to think that we've been working on this movie since October- from my first audition till that last day. I was worried that I'd be all despondent once the film had wrapped...you know, I thought I'd get all Sunset Boulevard. But as soon as I changed out of my school uniform (wait till you see my netball skirt!) and into my normal clothes, I felt a great sense of relief. As much as I have loved living my movie-star dream, the whole experience has also been very intense and stressful. I was constantly worried that I would get kicked off the film for all of these different reasons...for my acting, my swimming, even my tan! So it's nice to finish up and know that I did the best that I could. I guess now I will just sit tight and wait for the movie to come out. And don't you worry, I will definitely warn you guys when the movie is released! The wrap party for the movie is on this Saturday night, but I don't know if I will go. I don't get on that well with many people in the cast- I get paid out a lot for being a Christian, and all of the things that Christians don't do (i.e. get drunk, have sex, watch porn, do drugs). The truth is that I know a lot of Christians who have done all of the above, but still love Jesus with all of their hearts. Christians stuff up and muck around just as much as anyone else. I guess the main difference is that our relationship with Jesus is like a little light inside of us that gives us hope, guidance, truth and many other wonderful things. It's like, whether you are wearing stilettos, sneakers or you've lost your shoes at the party, if you follow Jesus, you can still see His path for you as you walk. I'm not saying that we can just do whatever we want because God will love us anyway. What I'm saying is that, even though we can behave atrociously, God loves us enough to forgive us and give us the opportunity to learn from our own mistakes. Anyway, a few of the actors in the movie are hoping to get me drunk for the first time in my life. And so, methinks that I might just get an early night instead. Speaking of drugs, I look like a bit of a junkie at the moment, because I had to have another blood test. I've got this weird puncture mark and bruise in the crook of my right arm from where the pathologist poked me with the needle. I went to see the doctor again on Friday, and before he'd even told me what was wrong, he started to bellow into the telephone: "I would like to discuss Carla. Mmmm. Yes. So she's a bit low in that. Iron's down, too. She'll need an APM, also a...what? A PKL? Yes? All right, she's four four point two nine...no, sorry, four NINE point two nine. Yes, thank you. I'll send her right away." Please note, of course, that all medical jargon here has been approximated. I studied design at uni, people, not rocket science. Anyway, I got so freaked out that as soon as the doctor hung up the phone, I blurted out, "Am I going to be okay? I'm not going to die or anything, am I?" He then looked at me for a long time over his bifocals and said, "No, you're quite fine. You're not going to die." It turns out that my blood test showed that my body isn't good at fighting off viruses and colds. So I got punctured again and now I have to go back to the doc tomorrow to get more information. Lots of people know that I am a big fan of Britney Spears, and that I'm open about my fandom, too. I didn't always love Britney- when her music first came out, I was smack-bang in an alternative-music-antifashion phase. I hated any music that didn't use real instruments. But when I hit uni, I started to really, really like Britney. I loved the innocence and blatant pop sounds of her first album. I loved the cheesy lyrics and her red catsuit of the Oops, I Did it Again! album. I danced along to The Neptunes' beats in her Britney album (the one that had Boys and I'm a Slave 4 U). Heck, I can even justify her cover of the Rolling Stones' (I Can't Get No) Satisfaction by saying that I like its irony. My sister once told me that whenever she had her iPod on shuffle and a Britney song came on, she'd immediately feel good. And I felt the same way for a long time. I adored all of Britney's crazy contradictions- her innocence and sexiness, her naivety and her millions, her overly-produced songs that hit number one on the charts. And whenever I listened to her songs, I'd feel this weird combination of empowerment, youth, aggression and femininity. But, about a month ago, I deleted Britney's music from my MP3 player. And, quite embarrassingly, it's not because I have stopped liking her music. It's because I'm finding it hard to like her as a person anymore. Britney is the same age as me, and because of this, I have always watched her a little bit more closely than other celebrities. I feel connected to her in some way. And so it saddens me to see her kind of...lose it. I can't respect someone who knowingly flashes her private parts at cameras. Those photos of her shaving her head disturbed me. I hate reading about her vomiting over herself. I kind of feel like Britney represents a part of myself and so many other women- that part that is eternally young and girly and enthusiastic and a bit daring. That part that has so much hope and promise and mystery..."what will she grow up to be like?" So it's sad to see what's happened to Britney, and how she is choosing to live her life. But, that said, I will totally be cheering if Britney can make a good, clean and sustained comeback. I think she deserves another chance. It makes me sad that she was built up into such a big star at such a tender age, and now, the people who made her (ie. the entertainment industry, the media, etc) are pointing their fingers at her and saying, "Ha ha, look what happened to you!" It's kind of like she was this big experiment...like, what will happen if we dress this little girl up and give her everything she could ever want? Will she be happy? Will she be normal? Will she still be beautiful after 10 years? Anyway, I do think that Britney still looks pretty, even without her hair. Okay, it's bed time for me! Oh, a little reminder: keep an eye on Bondi Rescue this season, because I am going to be on an episode! No, I don't get rescued, in case you were wondering! One of the guys in the movie is also a lifeguard at Bondi, so the film crew came to the set one day and filmed us. The lifeguard and I do a re-enactment of a scene we have in the movie. It'll be funny! We've had 3 episodes in screened in Sydney so far, and I haven't been on it yet...so what are you waiting for? Lala xxx 1 comment|post comment

Tests of health and character [13 Feb 2007|01:06am] Hi peeps! I'm so sorry if you've been flicking over to my ol' blog and seeing the same post for, like, 13 days. Not that I know if anyone checks my blog daily, but a girl can dream, right? I've been ill for the past few weeks, boo! Actually, I think I've been sick ever since I was last filming. All that getting in and out of the pool gave me a cold. Then, straight afterwards, I got food poisoning. And then the day after I started to eat proper food again, I got another cold. Today, I was feeling sick in my tummy again, so I had to have a blood and wee test, just to check out why I keep getting sick. Doing urine samples is always embarrassing. I had to ask the girl at reception for one of those containers, and I was so embarrassed that she gave me the container before I had finished stuttering. I guess she must have known what I wanted, because everyone gets embarrassed about it. That said, there is something satisfying about doing them...to be able to say to a doctor, "Yes, I can pee into that container! No problem!" I mean, it's not like he asked me to name all the Australian prime ministers. The doctor was a funny guy- kind of like an old-fashioned doctor, who has authority and eccentricities. He had to feel my tummy (maybe in case I had a dodgy appendix, like Lindsay Lohan), and I kept giggling and wiggling, because I am super ticklish. Then, the doc yelled at me: "Why are you contorting your body around like that and giggling? I'm not even tickling you! Just breathe in and out, slowly!" And the thing is, I didn't mind at all that he yelled at me, because he was bossy in a nice, doctory way. So he went to touch me again, and I flinched again, and he said, "AT LEAST put you bottom on the bed!" The guy who took my blood was also really nice. He kept making jokes and winking at me, which made me feel better. He was a nice change from the last lady who took my blood, who was built like a brick wall and talked like Arnie, saying, "You are ux-tremely de-high-drayted. You haff to drink some wah-ter." On the bus ride home, I feverishly ate arrowroot biscuits and Vegemite, as well as chocolate. Anything to soothe the ol' tum, I say. I've been doing so many job-related things lately. I applied for two transfers to different stores within the Ye Olde Department Shoppe chain (that's not its real name, by the way). I applied for Visual Merchandiser roles. Visual Merchandisers are the people who set up window displays and floor displays, and they also dust things. I had an interview for one of these roles on Friday, and I was pretty freaked out. I didn't know what to wear. Going for job interviews for creative roles can be a bit tough wardrobe-wise, because you can't just slap on a suit. You need to look creative and cool, but still professional and grown-up. I flicked feverishly though fashion magazines, looking to all my favourite fashion icons for ideas...Kate Moss, Sienna Miller, Leith Clark (editor of gorgeous Lula, a new London magazine). I thought to myself, "What would Kate Moss wear to an interview?" But then again, would Kate Moss GO to an interview? Would she ever need to? I mean, she's already got millions. Food for thought, people. In the end, I wore a nice vintage/mod combo, and I think I looked okay. I rate my interview performance with a 7.5 out of 10. I felt like one applicant of hundreds, though, so who knows how it will go. In the acting biz, as you may know, actors need to have headshots of themselves- that is, close-up photographs of their faces. Our agents give these to casting agents and directors, and some directors like to hang onto them and give them to make-up artists and wardrobe people, too. So on Tuesday, I set up my camera on a tripod and took photos of myself, just so I didn't have to pay someone else to do it. I mean, hello, I have a design degree, right? But it was actually really hard to take a good, professional photo of myself...I had to continually jump up from my pose to see what the photo looked like, and then readjust my position. Tiring stuff, especially in the hot, Australian summer. I took this photo (below) at the end, just as a joke. My little bro Derrick gave me that blue ducky as part of my Chrissie present, and I love it. The duck also makes me feel all excited about having a new home with Geoff. Speaking of my fiance, young Geoffrey finally shaved his beard off after about a year. When we started going out (or "dating", as Americans say), he was beardless, but slowly, he has succumbed to the comfort of that rock star stubble/beard look. I thought he looked very sexy with the beard, but I also wanted him to shave it off, because I couldn't quite remember what he looked like without it. He said that he wasn't going to shave it off until he had a job interview, and I wanted to get one of my friends to prank call him and trick him into a fake interview. But I am not that mean, and Geoff is very employable, so his beard came off with no feminine trickery. I ain't no Delilah, people. I know how proud guys can be of their facial hair. Anyway, I saw Geoff without the beard on Saturday night, and I have to say, I laughed. He just looked so different, and so much younger. It was like we had gone back in time. This might sound funny, but Geoff looked like he had lost his face. It's funny hearing Geoff talk about his beard...he talks about it like it's a person. He says, "I miss him", and "Maybe I'll grow him back." I'll be back on set for one last day of movie-star stuff on Valentine's Day. So I'd better go to bed now so I can get up early-ish tomorrow and start plucking my eyebrows, exfoliating, painting my nails, blah blah blah. Thanks so much for reading again, I really appreciate it! And I will try not to disappear again! Love lots, Lala 4 comments|post comment

Panic! At the Department Store [31 Jan 2007|08:08pm] I turned 25 last Sunday. For once, I wasn't excited about my birthday. There was something about being 25 that was giving me the heebie-jeebies. I don't think that I'm old; it's just that I thought I'd be in difference places, and doing different things, by the time I turned 25. So, when I rocked up to work on the morning of my birthday, the full force of my quarter-life crisis hit me in the face. I was really sad, and I started to freak out. As Charlotte from Sex and the City would say, "What the eff am I doing here?" I kept thinking, over and over again, "I'm 25, it's my birthday, I'm working at a department store, I have a degree...what the eff am I doing?!" I was also upset because no-one at work had wished me a happy birthday, which was quite hypocritical of me, because I didn't want to tell anyone it was my birthday in the first place. But of course, the grass is always greener on the other side. I served this girl who would have been around my age. She chose a designer bag and bought it really quickly. She looked around my department and sighed. She said, "I used to work here, and I wish that I still did." I asked her what she did now, and she said that she was a graduate lawyer. She worked from 7am to 9pm most days, and she was going back to work after she finished buying her bag...on a Sunday! A lot of her life was similar to mine- she'd worked in a department store through uni, and she still lived with her parents. She then asked me, "What about you? Why haven't you left? You couldn't move on?" I decided to overlook this comment, because I felt sorry for her in her high-pressured life, where the only way she could blow off steam was by purchasing a designer bag for her gym clothes. I calmed down by the end of the day, and I had dinner at home with my family. Geoff and his parents came over for birthday cake. Geoff and I have the same birthday- how weird is that? Although, I am 3 years older, in case you were wondering. We've celebrated 3 birthdays together so far, and it still feels strange singing "Happy Birthday" to someone while they are singing to you, too. My mum gave me this owl-shaped tea cosy! It's name is Owlie! I adore it! The reason why I love it so much is because my grandma gave my mum a similar owl-shaped tea cosy. My mum's owl tea cosy has been around for longer than I've been alive. Hers is a yellow and brown colour, instead of aqua and white. I like how my mum gave me an owl tea cosy, all of my own. Maybe this means that I am ready to be a grown-up now. Speaking of my grandma, she recently gave me some money to spend on a ticket to see Will Smith's new movie, The Pursuit of Happyness. My gran saw it on her birthday, and the film moved her so much that she gave money to all of us grandkids so that we'd go and see it. I'd seen the preview before, and even though the story looked good, I didn't want to go. The story looked so sad. It is about a single father, Chris Gardner (Will Smith), in 1980's San Francisco, who undertakes an unpaid stockbroker internship so that he can build a better life for himself and his son. During this time, Chris Gardner experiences extreme poverty and homelessness. However, he perseveres and works as hard as he can, and keeps a positive attitude. The Pursuit of Happyness is based on the true story of Chris Gardner, who went on to become a multi-millionaire and philanthropist. I finally saw the film yesterday with my mum. The film is really well made, and the story is compelling, and Will Smith is amazing. But to watch the film is an uncomfortable experience, because I think anyone who has been frustrated, poor and misunderstood will relate to the story. Even though I felt sad for the rest of the day, I am really grateful that my grandma sent me to see that film. I really was inspired to work as hard as I can in my own life, and not to give up on dreams. Chris Gardner's protective love for his son also made me want to spend more time with my family and friends. I also felt reaffirmed in many of my personal beliefs. I began to see that acting is such a fantastic form of communication...there are so many important and beautiful stories that are told through film and theatre. Also, I felt inspired to do more to help those who have less than I do. Sometimes, I get really irritated by the customers that I serve, and I feel a bit mean for it. But after seeing The Pursuit of Happyness, I realised that I was not insensitve. There really are so many people who have bigger problems than, say, having to choose between buying a Gucci bag or a Prada bag. Today, I served a lady who kept making pouty crying faces because the bag she wanted had a scratch on it, and it was the only one that we had left. Maybe I should have given her money to see The Pursuit of Happyness, too. And, thankfully, now I know that there are worse things that can happen to you than turning 25. Now, I think that I am lucky to have lived to this age so far. For many, life is an unbearable struggle, with disease, abuse and war. I've kept that habit I developed on New Year's Eve of giving lunch to a homeless person every now and then. Who knows...one day when I give someone lunch, it might even be their birthday. 9 comments|post comment

Back to school, and still not cool! [23 Jan 2007|08:55pm] This is me in the makeup trailer on Wednesday, January 17th, 2007! Do you like my pinafore? I was glad that they made me change into a netball-skirt-and-polo combo later on, because it was just so hot! The pinafore was a bit more flattering for the ol’ figure, though. Yesterday, my mum bought me the latest issue of Marie Claire, to cheer me up after my first day back at work. Boy, did I come crashing down to earth again after one day of working at Ye Olde Department Store. I’d been away for two weeks, filming my movie, and I was already in trouble with the bigwigs! My manager (who I think is my age) cornered me and said, “Carla, does your boyfriend visit you sometimes and stay for too long? Some staff members have brought this to my attention.” It wasn’t true, of course, but my manager was convinced that it was, so she started to give me advice on how to avoid my friends or boyfriend “if it does happen in the future.” Then I got in trouble by my supervisor for moving stock around during the wrong time of the day. Heaven forbid that I am actually keen to do some work! So yes, it is easy to feel like a regular girl in a crummy job instead of a movie star, especially when you’re stuck behind a counter, glowering at your superiors. However, even when I was on the movie set, for most of the time, I didn’t feel like a movie star. I actually had to work really, really hard. I had to do take after take of the same scenes, and it was hard to keep my reactions fresh. The conditions were also difficult to work with- it’s been really hot and sunny, and I got a bit sunburnt. When I arrived on set last Wednesday (my last day of filming for awhile- I’m not needed again until February 14th), I tried to have a new attitude towards the people who had been a bit mean on previous days. I couldn’t keep it up, though. The heat and nastiness mixed together, and I was a bit mean back, I think. Although I was mean in a sneaky way- I’d make jokes that were actually insults…you know the type, the catty jokes that girls are good at. Meow! I felt like I didn’t have that many friends on set. I did meet a few people I connected with, but I didn’t make as many friends as I hoped I would. There were loads of good articles in the magazine my mum bought for me- there was one about these girls who didn’t wash their hair for 6 weeks, in an experiment to see if they really did need shampoo! I was fascinated! The other interesting article was one that profiled three female bloggers (Stephanie Klein, Catherine Sanderson and Zoe Margolis, for the curious), and boy, did the article give me a kick up the bum! I’ve been really slack with blogging, and these girls blog quality entries almost every day! It was interesting for me to read blog entries from these women. They have one thing in common: they all write a lot about sex! I find it interesting how a lot of the famous female bloggers are the ones who chronicle their sex lives. Personally, I think women are capable of more than a good time in bed, but maybe this is all part of our post-feminist times, where a woman has the right to write about sex all she wants. Klein, Sanderson and Margolis are all very talented writers, though, and they make me laugh and feel things, so best of luck to them. And I do love a woman who writes at all! More soon! Lala 7 comments|post comment

Going beyond the fringe [15 Jan 2007|09:35pm] On set today at 6:30am with my new fringe! Hello again from the land of fiction and motion! Now, I know that I swore hatred towards my new fringe, but I actually l like it now. When it hasn't been blow-dried, it sits obediently to the side, and you would hardly notice that it is there. When my fringe is blow-dried, I still feel a little silly, but I guess it's a fresh new look that I didn't have to pay for. I had my second day of filming today, and we did more swimming pool scenes. I now have a very strange hybrid tan, which combines my regular cossie tan with my movie cossie tan- hello, racer back patches! Today was a good day for acting and creativity. I felt that I gave everything I could in my performance. Also, I feel that by re-opening one creative outlet, other creative outlets are starting to function again, too. I have actually started to do sketches of my fellow actors while I am waiting around on set. In case you are not familiar with my tortured artist thang, here is a brief rundown: I used to do heaps of drawings and paintings, and I worked as an illustrator. But I became burnt out from university and design/illustration work, and I also got an icky case of RSI in my drawing wrist. So for me to start drawing is actually a very big deal. It feels good to document things again. It's also nice to have some form of relief from the boredom of waiting around. But while I flexed my creative muscles today, I also felt that I was withdrawing into myself. I have been noticing a bit of yucky behaviour from others people who are on set. You know when a joke is taken too far, and all of a sudden, everyone becomes used to making you the butt of every joke? It was a bit frustrating for me today. The character that I've developed for this movie is as bit daft and silly, but some people on set have had a bit of difficulty separating truth from fiction. A lot of people have started to treat me like I actually AM stupid and naive, and it does hurt. I mean, I've known these people for only a few days. I felt a bit down about myself today. But I got home and read for a bit and wrote an email to my sister about art, and I realised that I'm not really unintelligent and ditzy. But it's interesting how people's actions and reactions can cause you to see yourself in a way that isn't who you are at all. I get to have a rest tomorrow, and then it's back to filming again on Wednesday! I'm looking forward to it. The scene that we are doing on Wednesday is very dramatic, so it'll be a good challenge. Oh, and by the way, the makeup artists noticed that I was sneaking on lip gloss, and they banned me from using it. They made me use Lucas' Paw Paw Ointment instead, which was annoying. I find that Lucas' stuff dries up pretty fast, and it has no shine to it! So I went back to slicking on lip gloss again in secret. Look, every girl's gotta have some vices, right? Especially as the only stuff I get to wear on my face for this film is sunscreen! I'm sure I'll have more movie updates for you guys later! Carla Gypsygirl 3 comments|post comment

More tales from Aussiewood [13 Jan 2007|12:27pm] Okay, so today is the day after my first day of filming. As you may be able to tell, I am totally embracing my new identity as a movie star. Being an actress is what I have always dreamed of, and being on set yesterday felt so natural. I even liked the so-called "boring bits" of hanging around, because I got to read magazines and watch the director and others at work. I learnt a lot of things yesterday. Like, there are so many people on a movie set! We even had this guy who was the weather expert. He had all of these metal antenna things, and a little eyeglass that you could use to look at the sun without damaging your eyes. He told us when the sun was going to come out, and for how long. When I woke up this morning, after a 12 hour sleep, my whole body was aching. It is still aching! I performed take after take of hauling myself out of the pool, treading water, standing in the sun. It's been a nice morning of rest so far, though. Because I know I don't have to wear a cossie until Monday, I ate lots of nice bickies for breakfast. Then, I received my morning phone call from my beloved, Geoff. Geoff went to his cousin Jeremy's 21st last night, and he made a speech. Geoff is such a clever, witty, talented, confident and cute young man (um, hello, why do you think I'm engaged to him?), so it was no surprise to me that this girl tried to chat him up last night. I was kind of mad to hear that. If I hadn't been practically passed out from the heat and exhaustion of filming last night, I would have been at the party, and hence that drunk lawyer-chick wouldn't have made a pass at my man. So I yelled at Geoff, "Well, did you tell her that your FIANCEE is a MOVIE STAR who was BUSY ON SET YESTERDAY?" He didn't tell her that, but instead passed her off onto an equally keen athiest lawyer-boy. So take that, lawyer-girl! The reality, though, is that it is nice for me to tell others that I am a movie star, but, as the Hollywood dwellers say, acting is not all glamorous. Sure, the food was catered and I got my hair cut inside a trailer with mirrors surrounded by lights. But I spent a lot of time yesterday standing around in pyjamas that were dripping wet with cold pool water, and I will be in that movie with 1) an ugly fringe, and 2) NO MAKEUP. So, dear friends, the moral of the story is this: tell people what they want to hear, because sometimes your occupation can seem a lot more fabulous than they know. Amorous lawyer-chicks don't need to know the gory details. And also, girls, ALWAYS bring lip gloss with you, so that you can sneak on a slick of it when the makeup artist is preoccupied with the bigger stars. Carla Gypsygirl 4 comments|post comment

Movie stars and movie names [12 Jan 2007|09:39pm] Today was my first day on the set of my feature film! I've spent the last week and a bit practicing my swimming (which is crucial to the role), getting a haircut (ditto) and going to rehearsals and wardrobe fittings (obviously important). It was a really hot day today (45 degrees out west), and filming is a challenge in such conditions. But, of course, it was a dream come true, and I'm surprised I made it so far. When I wasn't filming, I skulked around the set wearing a white robe and big sunglasses. It was nice to feel glamorous. Something that isn't so chic, though, is the new fringe the hair and makeup lady cut for me. They blow-dried it into a very round shape. It's scary. But it is very 1990's, and it makes me look 15, so I guess it's done the job. I'm filming for a lot of next week, so I will fill you in on more goss later on! Carla x ps. I just rented a copy of Pride & Prejudice, starring Keira Knightly. There are a lot of chickens and farm animals in it. You could call the movie "Pride & Poultry" instead. 2 comments|post comment

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