Curiously Compelling

All systems go for the Minion Fest on Friday. Am so excited I can hardly contain myself.

The support from our families and close friends is overwhelming, and the website traffic is looking better than ever. Kitty Moran* came to town today with a box of American cake mix and two jars of frosting for the bakesale. She's staying at the headquarters after the Black Stone Cherry gig at Sin City and she had nothing but the best things to say about them & their support, the wonderfully-named Heaven's Basement. I wasn't there, but she's going to write it up for the zine and from what she's told me, it sounds like an amazing show and I can't wait to read the review. They're touring the UK for the time being, and I'm hoping to score some more interviews for the July/August issue. Kitty likes the idea, but all she really wants are the BSC pants they had at the merch stand. This desire led to an odd brainstorming session -- she had the idea for a series of photos of pants. Not on people, just in weird places. Mailboxes and teapots and such. I've got the teapot, and I find the image of a pair of pants thrown over my tea service curiously compelling. ;)

I can't believe how bright it is. It's 6:11 AM and the sun is in full force over the Headquarters. I'm incredibly awake. Don't think for a second I just woke up -- you know me better than that -- I just haven't been to sleep yet. Who needs sleep when you have inspiration, eh? I'm not entirely sure what's wrong with me, but I'm extremely motivated. It's Monday morning and I've had the weekend off; I'm ready to get on with this magazine business! I don't know if I'll be able to sleep. The ideas keep coming and when they stop, well, I'm about fifty pages away from finishing Chuck Palahniuk's Invisible Monsters and I have to finish it. I was reading it in the kitchen earlier, waiting for water to boil. It's beyond description. I'm crazy about CP's writing. And by writing I don't mean Brad Pitt in Fight Club. I'm just glad it didn't catch on fire over the hob.

Rented Australia last night. I suppose it was the night before last, now. Imagine a western crashes into a WWII movie, cows and bombers flying everywhere, while retaining that touch of stylistic camp that Baz Luhrmann does so well. That was impressive. The characterisation was not. There is NOTHING wrong with Hugh Jackman - believe me, I just saw Wolverine - but the characters were either a) Very Good, or b) Very Bad, and there was no real development. When the prissy English Lady makes out with the rugged Drover, you could believe it with no stretch of the imagination. Voila: two beautiful people kissing sloooowly. Great. Then there's David Wenham, who I love, as the "bad guy". That wasn't so great. I just didn't believe it. His performance was melodramatic and campy (I credit Luhrmann for this); when he threatened people, I giggled. I guess I was just remembering him and Jackman in Van Helsing... maybe he was, too.

Right! The temptation fo the final 50 pages of CP calls! Plus, The Punk has been sleeping for six hours already. He's worn out from an epic stag overnight that involved something called "gorge walking". ??? On his way home this morning - or was it yesterday morning? - he was almost trampled by the thousand women in pink running at him in Bute Park. Granted, he is stupidly sexy, but on this occasion it was for the Race for Life and he stumbled into it with a hangover. Surreal.