Once bitten...

Pop culture's obsession with vampires is nothing new, and I've had my own bit of fun over the years.

Interview with the Vampire was the first movie that had me swooning over Brad Pitt. It had people raving about Tom Cruise's performance, which wasn't really much of a stretch when you think about it. Egomaniac plays egomaniac (amongst other shared attributes) - easy.

Another source of vampires that I've enjoyed is True Blood. Oh yeah, lots of eye candy in that one. Eye candy and Southern accents - can't go wrong, really. I began in the Team Bill camp, but shifted to Team Eric as soon as Alexander Skarsgård cut his hair. Mmm... Eric...

There's a camp element to True Blood that I appreciate - the show doesn't take itself too seriously. Sadly, I'm a season behind, and must rectify that as soon as possible.

The big vampire franchise that I haven't been able to get into is Twilight. As a thirty-something year-old, I just can't relate to chaste teen romances any more. There is so much that seems wrong to me about Twilight. I mean, vampires that do venture out during daylight hours, their skin protected by special make-up? And have no fangs? Puh-lease.

My curiosity got the better of me one night, a few months back, and I watched the first movie. It didn't win me over. Clearly, I've become one of those 'oldies' because I really don't see the appeal that Robert Pattinson has over the hordes of teenage girls. To me, he just looked like an actor with a kittenish face, wearing lipstick. Nothing sexy, or even handsome, about that.

A reliable source informed me that I shouldn't go near the books. I trust her judgement very much, so will take her word for it that I'd hate them. I thank her for saving me the trouble.

I have to confess here that I haven't read the Sookie Stackhouse novels (from which True Blood is based), or even any Anne Rice. No one could accuse me of being particularly immersed in the world of vampires then. I think I attempted Bram Stoker's Dracula once, but got bored and gave up.

So why am I rambling away about vampire films and books?

I recently saw an ad on TV, which made me think about how mainstream vampires have become.

I mean, really, Revlon? That's the best you can do to make me want to buy your lipstick? You want me to fantasise about someone biting me? Even the font used is a blatant Twilight reference.

Know what effect this had on me? I had to buy some new lipstick yesterday. I've been wanting a red one for an upcoming party, and haven't actually owned a red lippy in ten years - true. However, I steered clear of the Revlon section and bought a different brand. Sorry Revlon... (actually, I'm not).

Vintage love

Before I ramble on about my latest project, let's get one thing straight. This is anything but a Mormon Mommy blog. As much as I fantasise about fixing things up, DIY and I do not have much of a history together. The last time I repainted something I rescued from the side of a road was about six or seven years ago. It was just a small side table - something that a three-year-old could have painted with ease.

So when I was walking the Faery home from school yesterday, and saw a lonely old dining chair sitting on a nature strip, outside an apartment building, I wasn't sure what to do... but something about that chair was calling me. I saw potential.

Only one problem - we were early into a twenty-minute walk home, in 30ºC heat, with Miss Pie in the stroller, because J had the car. No way could I grab that chair. When we got home, I rang him up and begged him pretty please to swing by that street on his way home, and if he didn't think the chair was a piece of junk, could he pretty please toss it in the back of the car and bring it home.

Five hours later, J walked in the door, carrying this chair. I was genuinely shocked that nobody else had already reclaimed it. As soon as I saw it again, it felt like I was welcoming home a new friend. There's a bizarre pull towards this chair - I'm even experiencing déjà vu as I type this sentence... spooky.

Anyhow, maybe I've been spending too much time on Pinterest, but I have grand plans for this chair. A completely new colour - perhaps something bright, like turquoise or yellow - and some cheerful new fabric to reupholster it. A pretty chair for the girls' room.

Naturally, I know nothing about such a process, but... how hard could it be? This is what the internet is for, right? Okay, so I don't even own a pair of plyers right now (moving overseas will do that - I've yet to reacquire many things we didn't bring with us). But dammit, I'm making a trip to Home Depot very soon.

(A little secret: I'm not bad with my hands. I used to top the class with my woodwork projects, many years ago. I like using my hands. I even used to daydream about doing some kind of carpentry course. Maybe I will one day, when I live somewhere that actually has the space for a little shed out the back. I'd be in heaven.)

So why am I writing about this? I figure that if I declare my intentions in writing now, the chair will spend less time languishing on our back patio. Blogging about it will force me to pull my finger out, and actually get started on this project much sooner than I would otherwise. I'm a procrastinator by nature, but I can also be obsessive about completing certain tasks, once I've begun. Just ask J how late I went to bed after assembling a dollhouse for the Faery's last birthday. Must. Finish.

Happily, this chair is as sturdy as they come. According to the label underneath, it was made by Stanley Furniture, in Virginia. I love that it wasn't from a cheap labour factory in a third world country. Even more impressive - my Google research tells me that the average dining chair from this company retails between $500-$800. Each. I realise that kind of money is normal to some, but I can't - for the life of me - imagine spending so much money on a single chair.

I get the impression this chair was sitting in someone's garage, alongside other DIY projects. The tiny splatters all over it are not from dirt - they're golden flecks, the casualty of another project. I pledge a better outcome for it.

For now, this lovely chair is sitting just outside our back door. Every time I walk past and catch a glimpse, I smile.

Still green

Apparently it's autumn. Gone are the patriotic red, white and blue themes in the shops. Gone are the end-of-aisle displays for s'mores ingredients. No more cheap punnets of raspberries.

Instead, the shops are kitted out with garlands of bright orange leaves and pumpkins, and are all about apple cider, and flavoured cafe lattes with names such as pumpkin spiced and cinnamon gingerbread. Halloween decorations are beginning to breed, and mornings out and about will see people wearing their uggs with pride.

I have no doubt that elsewhere in America, trees are actually turning orange, and the days are much cooler now... but LA is yet to receive that memo. Here - it's still green. It's still very warm during the day. Today, half of my clan went for a swim. Summer? Not gone yet, people.

Last year was my very first proper Halloween. I was a little eager, and carved out several jack o'lanterns one week before the big day. They were pretty damn fantastic looking, if I may say so, especially for a first timer. A couple of days later, the mercury hit 30ºC, and my beautiful jack o'lanterns - still kept inside, not outside - began to curl in on themselves, slowly imploding. White furry mould began to grow inside and regretfully, I threw them away and started again.

This year, I won't make the same mistake. In fact, with such a fearless, ahem, 'adventure-seeking' toddler around, I may pass on the carved pumpkins altogether. I'm pretty sure they'd only end up being moved around, sat on, licked, squashed, and whatever else Miss Pie thinks would be fun.

In the mean time, I need to sort out Halloween outfits for the girls. Martha Stewart I ain't, so they're going to be a mix of what we already have lying around, and store-bought. I love the small kiddy costumes in the shops, and I love the idea of adding to a growing dress-up box. It even makes me just a little green with envy. I'd have loved to have had an assortment of costumes when I was a kid... but I'm happy to live vicariously through the Faery and Miss Pie. That's what kids are for, right?

Calling...

Along with ridiculous steps to access information, or retrieve some phone messages, it would appear that receiving recorded phone messages is the norm here in the US of A.

Every Sunday night, my mobile phone rings and I'm cheerily informed, via recording, of "important announcements" and reminders from the principal of the Faery's school, regarding the upcoming week.

Twice in the last few days, my phone has rung and - despite not recognising the number - I've answered it.

Instead of a real live human on the other end, a recorded female voice has greeted me: "Hello, I have a call for you. Please hold while I connect you."

Several moments of muzak passed, then, "All of our representatives are currently busy with with other customers. Please wait for the first available..."

I have no idea what she said next, because it was at that point I hung up. Both times. I don't know why I expected something might be different the second time.

But really, is that the best they - whoever they are - can do to get my attention? Seriously? I wonder what the actual success rate is of interacting with people who are dumb enough to wait around? Or don't have anything better to do?

Listen, if you are going to call me and interrupt whatever toddler food fight I'm busy diverting, you'd better bloody well have something of interest to tell me. Nope? You want me to sit on hold? I have a response for that - it starts with "F" and the second word is "off".

Time to go back to ignoring the numbers I don't recognise, and letting voice mail catch them - although somehow I don't think these people will be leaving a message. It's funny how I never get messages from them.

Perhaps some companies believe that leaving an air of mystery will give people hope that they're sitting on hold so that they can be told they've won a million dollars.

Oh crap. I hope they weren't trying to tell me I've won a million dollars.

Unless I really have. But they'll have to try harder...

Arachnid

Hello...

Spiders and I are not friends. I think as I get older, the way I react to them gets worse. You'd think it would be the other way round - desensitisation - but nope.

Something I've loved so far about living in LA is the lack of spiders to deal with. Maybe there seems to be more of a contrast because our apartment here is fairly new and lacking cracks and holes, whereas in Australia, we'd always lived in much older homes. But in general, Australian creepy crawlies win hands down over American ones.

So the other day, when I was about to open our patio gate and saw this stripy red spider, my heart jumped up into my throat. I had no idea what kind of threat it posed - I mean, look at it. Its colours and markings scream to back the fuck away, right?

Being an Aussie, I've been conditioned to expect the worst from spiders - given the lovely variety of venomous ones that exist across our continent. However, that doesn't explain J's rather casual Buddhist approach of capturing and releasing them outside. I love him, but he's a freak. These things need to die if they're on my turf, and - preferably - someone needs to do that dirty work for me.

J wasn't home and I needed to know what I was dealing with, so I grabbed the camera (for perspective, the bar it's perched on is 2cm wide).

Then began my task of googling spiders - no easy feat, when my physical response to every hideous image on the screen was to break out in a sweat and almost vomit. No exaggeration.

After feeling a whole lot of queasiness, I finally found it - a Phidippus adumbratus (some call it a red back jumping spider). Harmless, apparently. The jumping bit, I don't like, though. Also - I challenge any Australian to relax around a spider that has red back in its name.

Call me heartless, but I'd have probably dumped half a can of insect spray on it, like I would in Australia... but we didn't have any. A situation that (gasp!) would have been unheard when I lived there. Toxins be damned.

I guess you could say I have arachnophobia...

Universal truth #9

Bubbles will always get kids excited. There's the thrill of the chase, and nothing else as satisfying as popping 'em. Mastering the skill of blowing them brings a sense of achievement, as does the ability - for some toddlers - to catch them on their tongue. Mmm... detergent flavour...

Hat

Miss Pie is obsessed with hats at the moment. Actually, she's obsessed with any item of clothing that she can attempt to put on herself; hats just happen to be the most readily accessible. Paper bags will do, too. She raided her sister's dress up gear the other day, found this headband, and insisted, "Hat!" 

Who could argue with these blue eyes?

It's a shame she's probably going to be our last babe. We make pretty damn cute ones.