Skripper Time

Hugh Jackman's One Man Show: Wolverine, I Love You.

Colin Firth, we have a problem.  I've just returned from Hugh Jackman's one man show at The Princess of Wales Theatre, and I think he has just ousted you from my #1 slot in my Fave Five. 

Honestly, I can't say that I have enjoyed a show more in the last few years.  That man has more talent in his pinky (especially when said pinky is being wagged in very enthusiastic 'jazz hands') than most people in Hollywood have in their entire botoxed and buffed bodies.  The show was spectacular - he charmed the audience with stories, interspersed with show tunes, singing, dancing and gushes of handsomeness.

The songs ranged from pop songs to a whole medley from "The Man From Oz"  - completely in Peter Allen fabulousness, sequined shirt tied neatly around Wolverine abs (Hugh won a Tony for that role), to a whole tribute to musicals (Singing in the Rain, Sing Sing Sing. etc).  He also did a lovely tribute at the end to the Aboriginal people of Australia, narrated by Olive Knight, a leader in Aboriginal politics and causes in Australia. Complete with a backup orchestra and two foxy female singers, he owned the stage - prowling around it with energy, joy and absolute abandon.

And that's really what I love about Hugh Jackman - whether hosting the Oscars, the Tonys, or slicing and dicing as Wolverine, you really, truly get the sense that he loves what he does.  And he does everything with gusto and heart and pours himself into it.  He told a story about how his main philosophy is to "have a go" at things.  So far so good Hugh!

Did I mention that I was in the 4th row?  And that meant when he came into the audience, I could basically have flung myself into his arms?  It was only for the sake of the show that I remained in my seat - it was so entertaining, even my passion for him couldn't stop it.  I seriously considered chucking my bra at him, but as most breast feeding mothers know, spontaneously removing your bra in public is never a good idea.

There was a moment, yes a MOMENT, that Hugh was singing right to me.  Stared right in my eyes, grinned and belted it out.  Swoon.

My friend Oprah told me that Hugh Jackman is one of the nicest celebrities that she ever met, and I don't doubt it for a second.  Rock on Wolverine!  Have you seen the number he did with Neil Patrick Harris at this year's Tony Awards?  See below - fantastic!

 

Goodbye to the Old, Hello to the New

This is the scene on any of a given number of streets near my house.  It's par for the course any month to see at least one old house (usually 2 or 3) per street being torn down to put up a new, glamazon abode, with towering roofs, pot lights, granite countertops and fake grass (ok, that is only one house, and it looks ridiculous).

I'm a fan of the older home - the charm of slightly crooked doorways and oversized baseboards.  The creak of the old hardwood floors that make it impossible to sneak around at night.  The gorgeous stained glass windows and old wooden porches that let you sit and watch the world go by.

So when Baby A and I strolled by this place as they literally ripped it apart in front of our eyes, I was struck by the history that was being taken down - a house that has seen almost a 100 years of living has a lot of stories to tell.  Births, deaths, joys, sorrow - all imprinted on the wallpaper and rubbed into the floor.  Growth charts scribbled onto door frames and basement beams with secret messages carved in them.

I don't know whether a house has a soul or not, but something tugged at me as I watched another grand old maison get torn down that day.  I'm sure the new house will be lovely - and I will envy their smooth drywall, gleaming hardwood and built in A/C.  But I will enjoy my old house and the stories it tells me all the more.

For This I am Thankful

Ok, so it has been months since I last sat down at my computer to make a blog entry.  I've had a million different topics fly through my head, but since the arrival of Baby A, there doesn't always seem to be enough time.  I have a minute - a sacred minute - where I am ignoring the 3 giant piles of laundry downstairs, and have just emerged the victor in the "i don't want to nap mother, so I am going to scream for 20 minutes like you just stabbed me in the eye with a hot poker" battle. 

So here are some the things that I am thankful for, July 2011 edition:

1) Epidurals.  It might be 4 months since I had one, but seriously ladies, why would you go through labour without it?

2) Healthy Choice bars:  2 points on weightwatchers, 5 minutes of pure heaven (3 if I am starving).

3) The fact that my baby sleeps.  To all you mothers out there with babies that battle you through the night, my hat is off to you.  I don't know how you do it.

4) My garden.  A never ending source of pleasure (despite the raging battle I have with the remnants of a sumach tree and goutweed.  Curses!!)

5) Podcasts.  Terry O'Reilly and the Age of Persuasion, The Moth, and more make walking around the city pushing a stroller up the hill so much easier.

6) My amazing friends and family.  They made the first three months so much easier - food appeared, dishes got done and I stared at wonder at Baby A. 

7) Air conditioning.  I am thankful for that RIGHT NOW.

8) Rogers on Demand.  Yeah, I work for the company.  But you know what?  On Demand is serious gold.  A nursing mother's best friend.

9) My iPhone.  I love you iPhone.  You and your smart photography apps and to do lists.  Your podcasts (see #5,) your google maps and Scrabble app.  And yet I covet your sister the iPad.  Continuously.  Someday I will have her - but until then, you are my first Apple love.

10)  The BabyVac.  Hook it up to your vaccuum and suction out your baby's nose.  I am not kidding.