A plea for help from Lady Spam-a-lot

Hello,

My name is Dame Yorkshire Pudding of Worcestershire, and I am writing to inform you of the loss of my dear late husband, Sir Edward B. Spankalot, or as I affectionately referred to him, "Spanky". Spanky was heir to the throne of Wonkaville and the fortune bequeathed to him has now been transferred into my withered young hands. Having only been married to dear Spanky for the brief -but beautiful - period of 3 1/2 months, I couldn't possibly dream of keeping the fortune to spend on further breast augmentations or impossibly oiled pool-men whose names I can't pronounce. No, the honourable thing to do is to give it to various charities who can use this money for further good in the world, such as bringing authentic designer labels to the third-world, or the funding of medical science via the church of Scientology. Hence why I am writing to you, stranger. I seek to maintain anonymity throughout these proceedings so the privacy that Spanky so dearly valued due to his unspeakable deformity (a ghastly hangnail) is respected. All that would be required of you would be sending your bank and credit card details to me so that I may immediately transfer the funds to your nominated account for you to then pass on to the appropriate philanthropic organisations. I would attach a list of some of the causes and groups Spanky supported throughout the course of his life but alas, the majority of them have been outlawed.

Yours ever-so-sincerely,

Lady Spanky von-Worcestershire

Aaaaand, we're back.

Hola, marhaba, hello, dear readers!

Whether you have been waiting avidly for me to resume my blogging duties or stumbled across this page while searching for porn I would like to welcome you. I know my absence has been an extended one. I ask only that you treat it as you would that of a distant cousin in the 1950s whose return you acknowledge with a slightly arched eyebrow and a nod that says "you fucked up, but we won't mention it again", with no questions therein asked.

I am back in sunny Sydney and have had many months to reflect on my time as Sofia, the fish-mongering gondolier with big dreams and humble English. Often it is only with the passing of time that life's biggest lessons are made clear to us. I have been lucky to have already had some major revelations which include:

1. I never want to have to row any kind of gondola/motorised boating device/thing with an oar, for my occupation again. Ever.

2. Singing unaccompanied in noisy canals with people yelling at you all day is not fun for you, or your vocal chords.

3. I got really fat in Macau.

4. 3 servings of MSG injected food per day will make you fat.

5. I like to eat when I'm depressed.

This all sounds pretty negative, but in the same way that we tend to forget everything but the stale peanut butter sandwiches from our childhood (of which there were many), it's easy to push aside the good moments. So here are some happy things I have taken away from the experience:

1. Friends! (And I hope to see them both again some day!)

2. $---- (unspecified for tax purposes)

3. A far deeper understanding of my singing craft (singing in canals will f*%$ with your voice)

4. A far deeper understanding of the dynamics within musical ensembles (some "jazz" musicians are just a**holes)

5. An appreciation for the beautiful blue Australian sky and scenery (as opposed to variations on "overcast" and "grey")

In other news....

My Sydney return saw me launch my debut album "Waksing Lyrical" (yes I thought of it all by myself, and behind the scoff I sense your respect for my pun-tastic powers). The launch was a big hit and the cd has gone on to do big things, selling like hot-cakes on whatever corner I am begging, I mean performing, on a given day. I have calculated that taking into account future inflation and the digitisation of media forms I will recoup the expenses of making the album in approximately...

1025391.7435 years?

Until the album really takes off or finds its way into the hands of a capable marketing manager (or even just someone who could upload it to iTunes) I have secured the happy position of "The Nanny" for two separate households. Apart from the uncanny cultural and vocal qualities I share with the character in the much beloved television show of the same name, my job is slightly different. I basically get paid to go to the park, play wii, watch tv, play lego, and make origami. I guess you could say I'm getting a chance "to do over" my childhood. There is some light cooking involved but my previous microwave experience meant I was more than qualified. I love being able to hang out with 6 yr olds because they don't judge you when you speak in weird voices as the cat or do extended jazz improvisations ("Does this sound like a trumpet to you??????") - in fact, they respect you for it.

This wasn't so scary, re-establishing my place in the cyber world. Until next week when I will no doubt have many a thrilling narrative to relate (eating all-you-can-eat pizza tomorrow, sounds like a bestseller!).

x

So far.

I have reached the 2 week mark of my Middle Eastern travels. The first week was spent in Hebron, Palestine. What I didn't understand was why when I'd tell people I was in Palestine a few would say "but Palestine isn't a place". Being ignorant of basically anything outside of whether or not Beyonce is doing a kick-ass vocal run this confused me deeply. The people I was meeting called themselves Palestinian? The area they occupied was not called Israel or Lebanon or any other neighbouring countries?? Their travel documents are Palestinian and so thus are their listed national identities. So what was the problem?? What I was to learn was that while something like 140 nations recognise Palestine as a state, the magic wizarding authorities with super state-giving powers, have yet to follow suit. The reasons for this are part of a much more complicated issue relating to the establishment of the Jewish state of Israel in 1947/8. I will not bore you nor insult your intelligence with my limited knowledge or lacking journalistic skills (then again if Fox News gives it a go.....) but here are some links below. I will assume you will all go away and do your background reading and become experts on the Middle East and find a solution to the seemingly unsolvable leaving me free to get back to doing what I do best, posting slightly amusing anecdotes of my life (like the time all my stuff was destroyed in a housefire).

I will continue to refer to Palestine as Palestine in my future posts.

http://www.mideastweb.org/briefhistory.htm

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Israeli%E2%80%93Palestinian_conflict

www.haaretz.com

From Palestine, With Love

"From where?", I hear you saying.

Yes, dear readers. I am no longer in Macau. After completing 8 months of probably the hardest job I will ever carry out - (no, I am not joking) - I knew I would be in need of a holiday. A rest. As the French would say, a "Vacation". I was tossing up between Malaysia and the Philippines. Until my sister interjected with a proposal.

"Why don't you.. come visit me in Palestine??"

"Well", I replied, "without knowing much about Palestine, what are the beaches like?"

I had, after all, dreamed myself up an intricate holiday itinerary which consisted of travelling to a tropical paradise where I would proceed to lie in a hammock from dusk till dawn playing my ukulele before getting a nightly full body rub down by a man named Julio.

Shifra assured me that I would not disappointed if I came to see her, (really she just wanted me to come for her birthday so I could give her shit). After some sturdy assurances that I would not get "blown up" I decided to book my ticket. I was eager to see my baby sister and how she has been living for the past few months, but I was also interested to experience Palestine for myself. Not having the strongest knowledge of world affairs (you're saying Sydney isn't the capital of Australia...?) but being acquainted with the Palestine-Israel conflict and also knowing that the media doesn't always get it right (nice to meet you Fox News), I thought the best way to really understand anything about the immensely complex issue would be to go there. And so go I have. ? .... (mmm grammar)

My darling sister who is actually not related to me - (I think she came from a distant galaxy called "Nerdtron" where everyone speaks 500 languages and steals their sister's belongings) - speaks 6 languages and came to volunteer in Hebron, the largest city in the West Bank. Since joining her here I have had the opportunity to meet many incredible people and hear their stories. The stories that I relate are not seeking to incite anger or offence but merely provide an insight into the lives of some of the Palestinian people I have been so fortunate to meet, and thus contribute to people's awareness of the state of affairs here in the Middle East.

With love.

xx