CREATURE FEATURE SUNDAY: 50 Thoughts While Watching Sharknado 2

Back in May, Sharknado 2: The Second One was added to the Netflix Australia catalogue with apparently limited fanfare, because I had no idea. Happily though, while I was in search of something from the so-bad-it’s-good genre, there it was. Hurrah! Creature Feature Sunday, a time-honoured though usually hangover-induced tradition in my household, is back in action.

Here are my 50 thoughts from Sharknado 2. Spoiler alert, guys. Spoiler alert. In a big way.

  1. Oooh, we’re on a plane. Sharks on a plane?! I hope so!
  2. Is that Kelly Osborne?
  3. Ian Ziering… so weathered.
  4. Get it? Weathered?
  5. He’s not enjoying this flight at all.
  6. Am I?
  7. Yeah, of course I am.
  8. “It is happening again.” They are flying through sharks, you guys! FLYING through sharks!
  9. Good job Tara Reid’s character wrote a bestselling book on surviving a Sharknado.
  10. Ian Ziering is going to fly the plane!
  11. Hey, the oxygen masks haven’t dropped (which is clearly the main issue when passengers are being decapitated by sharks).
  12. He’s coming in hot!
  13. Tara Reid loses a hand while hanging out of an airplane shooting at a shark?! This is AMAZING!
  14. It’s suddenly day time?
  15. Credits! Theme song! Actual theme song!
  16. Holy shit, Mark McGrath is aging worse than Ian Ziering. Let the hair go, man. Let it go.
  17. Lock down the city! Call the mayor!
  18. Oooh, mention of prosthetics – this bodes very well. Please be a gun or similar.
  19. “It’s like he knew who I was!” If this is a shark revenge movie I will be so happy!
  20. Why does the weather report have animated sharks and yet no one is taking Ian Ziering seriously? Listen to Steve from 90210, New Yorkers! Jeez.
  21. Call the port authority! Call the fire department!
  22. There is A LOT of exposition happening by cell phone right now.
  23. Sassy cab drivers are an under-utilised plot device though, aren’t they.
  24. “Last thing I wanted was to hit a home run for my Pops”. FORESHADOWING! Your time is soon, retired baseball dude. I can feel it.
  25. THERE HE GOES!
  26. Sharks actively chasing the ferry doesn’t seem congruent with the idea that sharks just get caught up in a storm though.
  27. But I’ll run with it.
  28. ….
  29. WORTH IT.
  30. Gator? What?
  31. Oh never mind. Shark got him.
  32. No chainsaws in Manhattan? Gee, we really take Bunnings for granted.
  33. It’s like Indiana Jones outrunning the boulder, but with Liberty’s head. Couldn’t they just…. move to the side? Come on, ladies.
  34. Thanks for keeping the exposition on track, news dudes. Storms are converging!
  35. Theme song montage! Yeah!
  36. I googled the theme song band, who are called Quint. Like in Jaws. Well played.
  37. Suggested TMZ-style headline: Tara Reid finds a new outfit / time to accessorise while absconding from hospital.
  38. ‘Jumped the shark’ reference after jumping across the backs of several sharks James Bond Live and Let Die/alligator style. Yessss.
  39. Not sure how bombs fired into sharknado will help?
  40. “This is the Big Apple. When something bites us, we bite back!” ‘MURICA!
  41. So if the bombs don’t work, freezing it will somehow work. Science is hard.
  42. Ohhh, it’s going to take the power out of the storm.
  43. “Shark falling rates of 2 inches per hour” – weatherwoman, actual quote.
  44. Followed by motivational speech and chainsaw hero shot. Oh yeah!
  45. She’s replaced her hand with a saw! A SAW!!
  46. Why is everyone on the street? What did they think would happen when sharks started falling from the sky?
  47. Scrap that – I don’t even care. IN AIR CHAINSAW SHARK FIGHT.
  48. RIDING a shark to the spire of the Empire State Building? You had me at hello, Ian Ziering.
  49. I have just shouted “It’s her hand! It’s HER HAND!” to my empty living room.
  50. Actual applause.

Sharknado 2 rates 4 out of 10 jumped sharks.

No, sir. We are not a match.

Here’s what’s up: I’ve been single a while. For the most part, it’s pretty great. I do what I like, when I want to do it. My weird schedule doesn’t affect anyone but me, and the only arguments I have at home are between me and whatever jar I can’t open. But despite the pros, sometimes a bit of human interaction is a really nice thing. And meeting new people… it’s not easy.

9

It seemed everyone but me has tried online dating (to varying degrees of success) and I wanted to find out what all the fuss was about. So at a friend’s suggestion, I signed up for OKCupid (“It’s great! You’ll love it!”). I set up a brief profile, added a passably cute photo, and started having a scout around. It was low commitment and low cost and low effort – basically the opposite of every dating experience I have had in the past.

Dating, I am sure, has never been an easy thing. Today, thanks to our social media addiction, dating is a bigger minefield than ever as we negotiate this age of total visibility – we know when our messages have been seen, we get notified of people checking out our profiles. We monitor our visitors, collect our ‘likes’. We are present. We are seen, and unavoidably so. We conduct so much of our business in the digital realm I expected online dating to come pretty naturally. For me, it didn’t. For others, it doesn’t seem to either.

Usernames are hard.

I get it. You want a username that says something about you but also stands out from the crowd, and one that isn’t taken. It’s hard. If you are using a handle along the lines of ‘supernicedude’, ‘fuckboy69’ or ‘theguy4u’ then you may – may­ ­– be trying too hard. OKCupid also has a range of standard name endings you can add to turn your ordinary username-already-exists name into a viable username. The sort of thing that turns you from ‘Bill’ into ‘Bill-osaurus’. One of them, perplexingly, is ‘-taco’. Greg-taco. It tells me nothing. Who are you Greg? And do you even like tacos?

Uploading appealing pictures is hard.

A picture paints a thousand words, right? I like to think I’m not that superficial – that’s why I signed up for a dating site where people can write profiles instead of merely flicking left or right through photos and formulating opinions based purely on a person’s aesthetic fuckability. But a good photo is a good start all the same and it’s fascinating what people think are good dating profile photos. Here’s me with my mum! Here’s me posing with a comically large plasticine penis – see how zany I am? Here’s me in a large group – I’ll leave you to guess which one I am. Here’s a photo of my dog instead of me.

I don’t care how cute your Labrador is, I don’t want to date him.

Creating a profile is hard.

I kept my profile fairly brief at first, until I had a rummage around the site to get a feel for what people were saying. Much like the photos, some people were trying too hard. Conversely, some people weren’t trying at all. My rule of thumb was if I couldn’t think of anything I thought was witty enough for a section, I would leave it blank. Others should have perhaps followed this advice:

Idiot

Circle

After a few days of being bombarded by people who were going to try and turn anything I wrote into some kind of vague innuendo (“you like Terminator 2 and you drink a lot – well, aren’t you just saying all the right things in the right way *winky face*”) the urge to start trolling was strong.

april

So for my own amusement, I changed my ‘I’m really good at’ section to this:

Avocado

I hadn’t included my height in my profile and two separate people messaged me about this. One dispensed with a cursory hello and just said ‘height?’ like that was a valid introduction. Hint: it’s not.

Which leads me to…

Messaging people is hard.

Within one week of being on the dating site, I had received 73 messages from prospective suitors. Most were of the ‘hello, how are you?’ variety, which was fine. One guy chose ‘yummy!’ as his greeting of choice, which was not. Another wrote me poem about massaging my feet and brushing my hair.

enhanced-buzz-24102-1377892256-1

One guy said hello and, when I hadn’t responded after 3 days, wrote again to say he supposed I wasn’t interested (he’s quite astute). My favourite was the guy who purported to be a 19 year old virgin who wanted an experienced girl to show him “how it’s done”.

If I had a dollar for every ‘baby’ or ‘honey’ or ‘sexy’ that was tacked awkwardly into the messages, I’d be able to buy a pizza and a pretty nice bottle of wine.

Figuring out who to message is hard.

OKCupid suggests matches based on ‘powerful algorithms’ generated from your answers to a range of personality questions. The idea is, the greater the match, the higher the chance your would-be date will be receptive to your messages.

I put little faith in this for two reasons. Firstly, the ‘why is the earth a circle’ guy above was an 80%+ match.

Secondly, and more importantly, the questions the site asks get pretty weird pretty quick, flip-flopping from personal details, to job interview questions, to logic puzzles and everything in between. The not unexpected ‘how long would you like your next relationship to last’, for example, is followed up with ‘what’s worse – child abuse or animal abuse?’.

Random sample:

Capture

I think about carbs A LOT. You know why? Because carbs are delicious.

I don’t need a ‘powerful algorithm’ to tell me I am 100% certain the strength of my next relationship is not going to hinge on whether or not my partner likes historical re-enactments, the taste of beer, or reading the newspaper. Similarly, for them, is it a deal breaker that I prefer tea over coffee and know the ‘wherefore’ in ‘wherefore art thou Romeo?’ means ‘why’ and not ‘where’?

Maybe it is. Maybe that’s what dating is about these days. If so, I’m dating me.

And I don’t want to jinx it, but it’s going pretty well.

‘Til next time,

Sig

 

#winning

I feel like what I am about to say is a bit of a strange notion and I’m not sure I have the words to quite capture what I mean. Last Saturday I played in a game of roller derby and my team won. This is my second season playing and my first ever win. It felt good, but it felt weird.

My beloved Reggies. (Photo courtesy of Pop Hazard & Erin Green).

My beloved Reggies.
(Photo courtesy of Pop Hazard & Erin Green).

I’m not going to lie: I wanted to win. I wanted to do a victory lap and see my team take away the first bout of the year. But to be totally honest, winning didn’t feel as different as I expected. I came out of the game feeling the same way I always do: incredibly proud of my team, self critical but mostly pleased with my efforts, chuffed to be doing this crazy thing at all, in serious need of a beer.  My team played amazingly, we worked hard, some things didn’t work but a lot of things did. It was a really good game and I was really proud. Winning gave everything a rosy glow and it was nice, but it didn’t feel different in any real sense of the word. Is that as weird as it seems? I guess it’s a good thing, but I’m fairly baffled by the whole experience.

Really the only thing that felt different was that I finished the game with six penalties (worst ever) and a limp (x-rays pending), but that would have been true had we been points down instead of points up. I’ve been mulling it over all week and I worry that maybe I’m not competitive enough or that I’m missing something obvious. Maybe I just see team success differently and not as points on a scoreboard. Maybe I’m over-thinking it. I don’t know. It might be the next bout when I get my head around it. I might never get my head around it. It was just totally unexpected and strange.

Current Obsessions

IMG_20150405_123206 - CopyIMG_20150405_115636IMG_20150405_120103 - CopyIMG_20150405_122745 (1) - Copy

Cadbury Mini Eggs

What can I say? ‘Tis the season. That crispy sugar shell. Yes. A thousand times yes.

Gilmore Girls

I haven’t watched Gilmore Girls since it was first on telly back in the early 2000s. I’m binge-watching it from the start because, you know what? It’s pretty great. I want to live in a perpetual autumn / perpetual coffee wonderland where I too can dazzle people with my witty banter and effortless hair. It’s a sweet show, and a smart one, and I’m finding it thoroughly worth revisiting. (Side note: how had we all forgotten that Sebastian Bach was a recurring actor in this? How, I ask you?).

bach

Sally Hansen Complete Salon Manicure polishes

I love a good nail polish and I am loving these! The wide brush makes for easy application, the colours are opaque after two coats, and they come in a nice range of colours that are reasonably long wearing. Berry Important has been a staple on my nails the last few months.

My planner

I’m a busy person. Last year I struggled to keep everything organised and I was the queen of double booking and forgetting when things (like… bills, for example) were due. This year I am making sure I am super organised thanks to my big ol’ planner. I’m very visual and a bit old school, so having a physical planner works for me. I have a red Debden exec-style one which ran the risk of being a bit drab, but I’ve updated it with some Kikki-K dashboard accessories and some other doodads which make it my own.

Autumn colours: Mustard

Red hair and yellow anything is a precarious combo at the best of times, but I’ve latched onto this whole autumn / mustard trend revival with some Mamas and the Papas level appreciation for all the leaves being brown and the sky being grey. There is apparently just enough brown in the shade to work with my weird freckly / ginger complexion – I just wish I was whimsical enough to pull off a wide brimmed winter hat.

‘Til next time,

Sig

Nailing It

I have a slight obsession with nail polish, and in recent times I’ve been dabbling in a little bit of nail art. I really hate the weird painted-up claw you have to turn your hand into to get a good snap of your finished nails, but so it goes, I’m afraid.

Here are some of the successes that I remembered to capture in photos. The camouflage is in homage to my beloved Regimental Rollers, and I am currently sporting the R2D2 mani in preparation for May the Fourth.

IMG_20140323_124748IMG_20140425_090056IMG_20140503_143908IMG_20140215_143741IMG_20140425_085958 (1)  IMG_20140425_085856IMG_20140315_120554  IMG_20140420_083416

 

‘Til next time,

Sig

 

Easter

The Easter long weekend seems like an appropriate time to stage some sort of comeback. I’m told it’s the done thing (if you’re into that sort of thing), so check it out – my blog lives.

I wasn’t in a good place when I ditched my 100 Happy Days project in the ninth week. It wasn’t me at my best. But I’ve missed writing my weekly blog posts, happy or otherwise, so here we go again.

I’ve had one of the nicest Easter weekends I can remember, and it’s due in no small part to the alarming volume of chocolate I have consumed. I also spent time with some of my favourite people and aced my Easter bunny manicure attempt, so it’s not all about the cocoa. (Except that it kind of is).

My amazing friend Jessy threw the most impressive Easter high tea for the girls, and it was a little slice of girly luxury, and I want to do it every year. Jessy is one of the most creative and talented people I know, with such a keen eye for the small details that she should be a party planner. For realsies. Check out her instagram feed for all things nice. And a few snaps of my own below:

IMG_20140419_131136 (1) IMG_20140420_083416IMG_20140419_131341 IMG_20140419_131526

In other news since we last spoke, things have been pretty peachy as far as roller derby goes. I survived my first two bouts, which were hugely nerve-wracking but lots of fun. I’m not sure how much I contributed overall – apart from looking like a deer in headlights and swearing loudly at myself every time I did something wrong – but you have to start somewhere. Here’s a quick photographic summary to bring you up to speed:

IMG_20140224_221224 IMG_20140315_164325 IMG_20140315_164409   IMG_20140417_230208 IMG_20140421_132107IMG_20140330_150540IMG_20140421_134025IMG_20140412_224527

‘Til next time,

Sig

 

Week 9… sort of

I’m impressed with the people who are still soldiering on through the 100 Happy Days challenge. Impressed, and kind of envious. I said when I started this thing, that it was all about having a go. It was to remind myself that even though times are tough, it is worthwhile focusing on the positives. There are only so many times I can say the same things over and over – ‘oh it’s the little things that matter’, like a tasty sandwich, new nail polish, or managing, somewhat miraculously, to get to my train without having to break into a sprint. Really, I think sometimes it’s the big things that matter, and not the small things, and that’s what is making this project seem like a bust.

This post is about being honest, with myself as much as anyone. So here it is. I have a had a shocking six months, and pretending otherwise is becoming hard work. It’s hard to get out of bed in the mornings, because I don’t sleep well these days. It’s hard to eat properly, because convenience often wins. It’s hard to go out, because going out is expensive. It’s hard to stay home, because I’m not good company. It’s hard to ask for help, because it feels like weakness. It’s hard to go it alone, because I’m rubbish at supporting me. It’s exhausting to soldier on and smile through my work day and say cheerful things and not just fold in on myself, climb under my blanket, listen to sad music and wonder what the hell happened for things to turn out this way. It’s a startling thing to have random abuse yelled at you in the street and not be indignant, but rather wonder how did they know?

But perhaps acknowledging all these alien feelings is a positive thing somehow.

And therefore… Week Nine done.

Week 8, in sickness and health

As you may have gathered from my last post, I spent a considerable portion of last week in less than tip top condition. It turns out weeks of being run down, stressed out, and sleep deprived will cause your immune system to finally buckle. And buckle she did. So much so, in fact, that a full week since feeling the first twinges, I am still exhausted after minimal exertion, am surviving primarily on antibiotics and soup, and have the most nasal voice in town.

In the ‘happy days’ stakes, then, there wasn’t a whole lot happening. It was all about the small things:

  • home made soup provided by parents;
  • aloe vera tissues;
  • comfortable pillows;
  • cuddly cat; and
  • sleep.
I admit that medication might have made this picture seem more amusing than it is. But at the same time... CAT ANTLERS.

I admit that medication might have made this picture seem more amusing than it is. But at the same time… CAT ANTLERS.

Things are on the up, though, because I can sort of sporadically breathe again. I also got to spend time outside of the house with some of my favourite people at quiz night last night (we lost) and NSO-ing at interleague scrimmage today. All in all, I’m starting to feel a bit more human again, which is actually really nice. I have a few things on the agenda for the coming week too, which should make for more interesting times.

‘Til next time,

Sig

Cabin Fever

Eight newly discovered facts about being sick when you live alone:

  • Your parents will, endearingly, assume you are dying.
  • If you don’t wash your hair for four days, no one will care that you look like a demon. This is equal parts liberating and depressing.
  • You will be torn between wanting company and not wanting to have exhausting in-person conversations.
  • Perhaps more importantly, you will also be torn between needing to go to the shop for more tissues / soup and feeling physically unable to move from the couch.
  • It’s time to worry when you find yourself watching back-to-back episodes of Bonanza just because it’s on and you can’t find the remote (Channel 44, if you were wondering).
  • Napping is the pastime of the Gods.
  • The fear of choking to death on phlegm and not being found for a while becomes a genuine concern.
  • There is a limit to the number of episodes of 30 Rock you can watch in a day. That number is high, but it’s there.

Look after your health, people. Being sick is the worst.

‘Til next time,

Sig

Week 7, in which things turn out ok in the end

This week my multi-layer Laneway sunburn peeled horribly not once but twice, I buckled slightly under the weight of various stresses, making questionable decisions and speaking out of turn just about every time I opened my mouth. My house went on the market, and sleep eluded me again. I took some serious steps to cheer myself up:

IMG_20140212_184716

I bet my dinner was better than your dinner.

Adelaide has developed a split personality when it comes to weather. This week a 40+ degree heatwave ended in record rainfall which caused flooding and road closures across the city, and ruined a very comfortable pair of my shoes:

IMG_20140213_171740

Just trying to walk home.

But it wasn’t all so dire. The highlight of the week was Friday’s Adelaide Fringe opening parade. Light City Derby and the Murder City Roller Girls were part of the pre-parade entertainment, and I was very proud to don orange and black to muck around on wheels on King William Street. The weather dried up somewhat miraculously and it was a night of skating, fairy lights, free cocktails, dancing, and spending time with some pretty awesome people. I do think, however, that my orderly HR lady image might be irreparably destroyed since I was sprung wearing fluoro orange tights with fishnets and knee high socks in a public place by my colleagues. Oh well, I guess it had to happen eventually.

IMG_20140215_092447IMG_20140214_221104IMG_20140214_222046IMG_20140215_125924

Capping off a pretty fun weekend, I hit the Parade this morning for a breakfast date with some of my fave girls:

Total babes.

Total babes.

Winning.

‘Til next time,

Sig