Thirsty Koala - A Firefighter Gives Koala A Drink (2009 Australian Bushfires)

The Australian bushfires are such a tragedy. If you can spare a little cash, please donate to the Red Cross in Australia, Wildlife Victoria, the RSPCA, or any charitable organisation that is helping those affected by this horrible event. PS - I love Koalas!

Little Buggers in my Throat

How do I convince my doctor that after a decade of getting these and the pain that comes with them, that I need my tonsils removed? Suggestions?

Nobody Beats the Whiz! Nobody!

This is my friend Dan. He's a professional magician. He has REAL magical powers. Check out his website: http://www.trommater.com/

Merry Christmas, etc.

The Eye of the Beholder

I try very hard to not follow along like a sheep when it comes to Hollywood hype. I never watch any of the entertainment programs, I try to keep an open mind when it comes to movies, the talent of each individual actor, and I don't allow award shows to creep into my TV viewing habits. I used to be a hardcore junkie, but now I'm a cynic. The whole People magazine "Sexiest Man Alive" phenomenon never rated with me. And as much as I enjoy Hugh Jackman's Aussie style and smile, I don't understand why the world needs a publication that boldly declares that this individual is the creme de la creme of masculinity...this year. That coupled with the annual "50 Most Beautiful People" just seems a tad obnoxious. I feel sorry for people that eat this tripe up as if it's gospel. These are just people. Regular people who happen to be in the public eye. Yes, some of them are more physically attractive to us than others, but they haven't come up with a cure for cancer, solved the problem of world hunger created a colony on the moon. Show me a magazine cover with a photo of the scientist who systematically wiped out AIDS and I'll show you a drooling admirer.

Princess Unicorn

Today is my 30th birthday. After fretting and fussing for weeks, it's here and I don't feel weird. Which might seem weird, but I think I've exhausted myself when it comes to worrying about my age. I can't fight it. I give up. There are lots of things I want to accomplish this year though. I doubt I'll have enough dedication to follow through with any of them, but here's a few:

-Write in a journal every day.

-Practice my fiddle more often and get good.

-Take more pictures.

-Spend more time outside.

-Swear less.

-Keep in touch with friends on a regular basis instead of just on special occasions.

-Learn how to knit.

-Get a new job that makes me happy and is actually a career.

Etc. I hope I can follow through with at least a few of these.

The Littlest Star

My parents live in a different country than me and there are many times when I wish they lived closer. Like when I was severely ill this summer, could barely speak, and would call my Mom, crying and croaking that I needed her to hop on a plane and take care of me. Or when Thanksgiving rolls around and I find myself seriously craving turkey. But mostly I miss my folks when I need something from the dozens of boxes containing my belongings sitting in their basement. For example, last spring when I heard about the New Kids on the Block reunion tour, I immediately thought of my NKOTB earrings, circa 1990, sitting in my hot pink jewellery box at my parent's house. I planned on digging them out and rocking them come concert time. But when a flaky "friend" bailed on the idea of going to the concert with me, and I couldn't find anyone else to go, I forgot about the earrings and put it out of my mind. Then the unimaginable happened and I ended up at the concert, courtesy of free tickets. I really wished then that my parents were nearby and I had those damn earrings.

As much as I loved the NKOTB concert, it wasn't my first boy band experience. Way back in 1997, the Backstreet Boys came to town. My sister and I were fans for the pure lame cheese factor, but we still got into it. The concert was as ridiculous and over the top as you could have imagined, but at the time, I said I wanted to live out my childhood New Kids dream. I never had a chance to see NKOTB in concert, and I thought I never would. I was in second year university and although it was a tad embarrassing to be seen at such an event, I just didn't care. Afterwards I wrote for the university newspaper about my experience, the screams of the pre-teen girls, the lasers, the deafness and witnessing a little girl say that she could die happy. It was the first time I wrote for that paper and I wish I had a copy of it in my hands right now. I can picture the article and the cover of that issue. I can only remember bits of it, but I wonder if my enthusiasm for the frommage factor in 1998 was similar or equal to the excitement I felt two weeks ago? If only my parents lived nearby, I'd scrounge through those boxes, tossing aside class papers and forgotten, battered projects, would find that article and post it here today. Stupid distance.