Carla Gypsygirl's Blurty

Tests of health and character
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