Let's get...

Further to my post the other day. Here's part two. …A number of takes later. (If you need context, read the previous post ). If you have issues accessing the below - another version is available here, however, the syncing is a bit out! :-)  (Such quality here at Let's Get headquarters). Until next week….

In my quest for perfection on the public holiday Monday - I perfectly wasted a full day. It all began when I decided I would kill two birds with one stone (damn…why are all my blogs animal related?!) and knock off two resolutions - improving my guitar playing skills while posting another blog. I thought if a picture painted a thousand words, a video would surely paint a million! JOB DONE. So in preparation I attempted to learn one of my current favourite songs. "Not the only one" by Sam Smith  (check out Sam's version here ). I agree. It is reasonably whiny, relatively heart breaking, and all in all a hardly uplifting song that one should play to improve their confidence in guitar playing or otherwise. The result? If my iPhone or iPad gets hacked, there will be no nudie photos - just a gazillion versions of the one song with a guitar played sounding as if I'm wearing boxing gloves (on second thoughts, maybe nudie photos would be less offensive?). The num...

I thought spending two weeks with my little nephew, Ethan, would make me clucky (nope, that's not a 'throw-in' pun to reflect last week's theme…i'm not that consistent …). While the little fellow is cute (and at 11 weeks old - he should be) I don't really feel the need to get cracking and procreate. There might have been a few moments in the past few weeks that led me to this conclusion. Incident number 1: My sister, Katie and her partner took me to their friend's BBQ. Katie ducked off to another room to breastfeed and as the conversation of the other attendees was all about babies, planning for babies, babies, babies, babies - I snuck off to pretend to help Katie. Being a busy new mum, Katie currently isn't one to deny any offered help, pretend or otherwise. She passed Ethan to me to burp him. I always get the best jobs.  Never able to concentrate on one thing at a time, I held a cup of iced tea in my hand while I used the other hand to burp...

Can you interpret dreams? Good. Interpret this. The other night in my dream Dad asked me to go out and buy a lamb. I came back with a goat. Fortunately Dad didn't ask me to go out and get a toga, otherwise I'd be questioning if I was dyslexic (I stole that insensitive joke from someone -  I think it was my brother Nick. He's so uncouth. Yep, totally making Nick my 'scapegoat' for that one…ahhh. If you haven't realised this already, my brain doesn't switch off, and probably never will. It's something that I have accepted. What goes through my mind late at night when the world is sleeping? Not a lot of useful things if I'm honest. Often for a good hour I'll be sniggering to myself about something hilarious I said 10 hours earlier, or a year ago. Before you know it it's midnight. When I went to bed last Sunday,  I was kept awake by my earlier wit. I had watched 60 Minutes with my little brother, Benny and sis-in-law, Olivia. Any...

THERE'S a few sayings that stick in my 26-year-old brain. My step-granddad's: "Failure means success is possible." Confucius's: "It doesn't matter how slow you go, so long as you don't stop." Dad's: "What you miss out on the round-a-about you pick up on the hurdy gurdie." Sorry Dad, you did instil a great deal of wisdom in me over the years, it's just that I can't move on from the word "hurdy gurdie". Instead of going straight to bed after an exhausting day of shows on Saturday night, I made the mistake of looking through previous blogs I'd written. Not to revel in my own self importance, or reflect on my try-hard hilarity, but rather to see if there were any themes that I could perpetuate in future blogs. I stumbled upon my first blog for the year which ambitiously stated my 14 resolutions. So, by way of an update, I thought I'd let you know I've achieved one, two, three...NO RESOLUTIONS. ...

I don't get to attend castings very often, so when I do I like to make an impression. Usually this "impression" means me trying to insinuate that I'm an actor that is easy to work with, punctual, and talented. Last week when I got a text from my agent, "....casting at 5.30pm, wear beach attire" I thought, this is my chance! I was stumped at the beach attire instruction. For one, it was a pretty damn cold afternoon, and secondly, I only had two pairs of togs - a hideous cheap pair purchased hastily a while back on the way to a pool party, and the second purchased when I was hungover on a Byron trip. I chose the cheap first pair knowing aesthetics wouldn't matter as I was wearing a bright pink singlet over the top which would only hint I was wearing a bikini. Parking my car I had a thought that I really should have tanned myself to fool the casting director into thinking I was actually outdoorsy. No filming budget could allow the amount of sunscr...

Yes I know, I know - I definitely have fallen off the writing wagon... again. I realise this while watching  60 Minutes (of course   hoping a religious cult story is about to come on) and my housemate is mocking me for some reason, (potentially out of jealously because her mum has told her she has enjoyed my blog on the occasion) I decide I really should post something. Opening up this blogging site, I start looking for an easy option in the form of a blog I may have begun a while ago. I often start blogs and then get distracted by something shiny or a stupid video on Facebook, or pick up my guitar, put down my guitar realising I can't really play it, or clean my room, mess it up again, sit back down to write my blog and then decide it's time to eat something. So tonight I thought i'd try and get back to blogging through finding a half finished one, give it a good spruce up before posting it, and wait patiently for the "oh you're so clever missy!" text...