Gingernuts.

It's well documented around these parts that red-headed ladies are extremely attractive and highly sought-after. There are more flame-haired vixens saucing up the blogosphere than you can shake a stick at*.

In the world of celebrity, Lindsay Lohan and Nicole Kidman were notable gingers, but have lost most of that cachet through love affairs with the peroxide bottle. Julianne Moore and Bryce Dallas Howard enjoy the porcelain skin that comes with copper tresses, and it's no coincidence Jessica Rabbit's locks were crimson-tinted. Red hair is flaming hot on the ladies.

But what about the menfolk? Are there any attractive Titian-coiffed gentlemen?

Discuss.

*I was going to make a bunch of links there, but I knew I'd miss someone and y'all know it's No More Tears time lately in S&C land, so feel free to identify yourselves in the comments, carrot-tops!

Unrecommended Viewing: Crank 2 - High Voltage

Crank 2: High Voltage is not the worst movie ever.


It's just really, really close to it.

I know what you're going to say - "But Soda & Candy, Jason Statham takes his shirt off!"
This is very true, but he does that in literally every movie he's in, and all of them are a gazillion times better than Crank: High Voltage.

Full disclosure: I enjoyed the first Crank movie. The "plot" was ridiculous, the dialogue was ordinary and the acting was sub-par, but it was cheeky and reasonably fun and I seem to remember the action sequences being decent, which let's face it is the selling point of most Statham movies.

Crank: High Voltage on the other hand, had terrible plot, dialogue and acting, but the action was also super ordinary, not to mention the bonus graphic sexualized violence, racism, homophobia and just incredibly-high-level misogyny which I don't seem to remember the first one having.

What's your worst movie ever?

Gettin' all Pollyanna up in this piece.

They say when you point the finger at someone else, three fingers are pointing right back at you. Kind of a physical manifestation of judge not, lest ye be judged, or do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

I don't enjoy conflict, drama or negativity, so I'm going to make sure I'm not part of bringing those things into the blogosphere from here on in*. There are ample opportunities to experience horribleness in real life, let's keep it out of here!

I just want this blog to be a happy place where everyone feels safe and I can talk with my friends.

So how are you guys going? What would you like to drink? Here, have some lamingtons.


*Snark doesn't count. So don't be afraid to talk smack about celebrities or whatever!

Over To You: Blog as Cultural Exchange Depot.

It seems like everyone really likes when I write about Aussie stuff, but I need some suggestions from you guys.

Aussie readers
What Aussie things would you like me to introduce to our international friends?
A quick example of the kind of thing: The heaven that is Tim Tams.

Non-Aussie readers
Do you have any questions you would like to ask an Aussie, or any Aussie things you would like to know about?
A quick example: No, Aussie children do not ride kangaroos to school.

Leave suggestions in the comments.

Terrifying.

A charming denizen of our neighborhood - about three minutes after turning up at my bus stop - informed me that he was an ex-convict of some long years, among other slightly terrifying tidbits of information.

I am now considering purchasing some pepper spray. Husband helpfully suggested I get one of those jokey water-squirting flowers, like clowns have, except with pepper spray instead of water.

I'm not sure about that, but I know that being the diva princess that I am, such an item would have to be co-ordinated with my wardrobe, and preferably bedazzled.

Grammar Nazi: Me vs. I

I was going to be all cute and name this "Me, Myself & I", but I'm not opening the "myself" can o' worms.

Do I say "me" or "I"?

1.
Firstly, in either case always put the other people/person before yourself. This is good manners and it's also good grammar.
For example: Do not say "Me/I and Person X", say "Person X and me/I."

2.
The easiest rule is, if you take the other person/people out of the sentence it should still make sense.

For example:
"[Person X and] I went to the movies." You would never say "Me went to the movies", so you know you should not use "me"in that sentence.

"They gave candy to [Person X and] me." You would never say "They gave candy to I", so you know you should not use "I"in that sentence.

3.
It is technically correct to say "It is I", but "It is me" or "It's me" are so widely accepted nowadays as to be considered correct in all but the most formal situations.

And I'm all for the evolution of language unless it obfuscates* meaning, which I could go on and on about but this post is probably already long & boring enough.


*That was for you, mjenks. I know you love them five dollar words.

My blog is illin', yo.

The lovely Gwen recently held a competition to design her an award based on this picture:


And guess who won?

That's right, me!!! You should go look at all of the other entries too - they were freaking hilarious.

This was my winning entry:
And Gwen was kind enough to bestow the award upon me for designing it for her!!!! See, there it is in my sidebar! I shall treasure it forevs.

Fun Size Macro

^ a brown and orange butterfly that was flitting around the garden, spreading his wings out and sipping water drops from the leaves.

Chick-what-A?

In the United States, filet is spelled with one L and pronounced fill-AY.

In Australia, fillet is spelled with two Ls and pronounced FILL-it. Unless you are being fancy and French and referring to filet mignon.

In the United States, -er on the end of a word is pronounced -err, for example teacher would be pronounced teacherr.

In Australia, -er on the end of a word is pronounced more like -ah, for example teacher would be pronounced teachah.

In the United States, there is a fried-chicken fast-food chain called Chick-fil-A.


When Husband and I first saw this sign, we didn't know about the American pronunciation of fillet, so we said to each other in our Aussie accents "Chick Feeler? Why would you call your restaurant Chick Feeler?"

Thesis: Project Runway as Cultural Lens.

WARNING: Highly subjective, opinionated, sweepingly generalized and probably factually inaccurate (not to mention ridiculously long) blog post ahead.
As always, feel free to weigh in with your own opinion in the comments.
Also, this is like my 104th post! Somehow I keep missing the milestones. What luck that they're of no interest to anyone else.

I've been feeling homesick for my people. It started when I was watching the Australian version of Project Runway.

First of all, Aussies swear a lot. And swearing is much less restricted not only on network television but also on cable* TV. The Aussie Project Runway contestants were swearing their hearts out constantly. We're simply not that offended by it. I'm not saying preschoolers and old nannas are telling each other to eff off, but we just don't take it as seriously as Americans do. Particularly blasphemy, which is barely considered swearing at all, at least in terms of television censorship.

Not only that, simply the way Australians interact with one another is different. The difference is almost indefinable but I think this is what it is:

1. Aussies don't like putting themselves forward.
This is why the Australian version of Survivor failed and why the Aussie Project Runway contestants were dreadful at team challenges - no one wanted to tell other people what to do.
The Aussie Tim Gunn replacement didn't say "You have to pack your bags and leave", he said "I'm going to need you to pack your things and leave", thereby distancing himself from what was essentially an order. He made it sound like he wasn't telling them to leave, he was just letting them know that it needed to happen.
Americans tend to like trying things and are not afraid to take charge. Australians don't want to be seen as thinking they are better than you...

2. ... but they will never let you think you're superior to them.
American politeness involves a kind of deference that most Australians would choke on**. Americans tend to expect it should you be perceived as their social inferior in some way (like a waitress or a younger person). As a simple example, here in the South they are particularly fond of calling people "sir" and "ma'am", whereas in Australia you will often be called "mate", "darl" or "love" by people you've only just met (especially old ladies in fish & chip shops for some reason).

Aussies aren't rude exactly, they just don't kowtow to the idea of a class system. The working-class man is the idealized cultural icon of Australia, which probably has something to do with the current culture having been created by people from the lower echelons of the British class system... Oh crap, I think I just contradicted myself. I think what I mean to say is, there is some sort of class system inasmuch as there are different socio-economic levels in society but we place less importance on those levels in our interactions, and the highest level is definitely not the most respected.

We are appropriately polite, respectful to our elders and in professional situations, but there is an inherent understanding of equality as people that I believe flows through all Australian interactions.

One of the greatest sins in Australian culture is to be "up yourself" or arrogant, and if you are suspected of this great crime you will be mercilessly cut down - the downside of which is that often if you want to achieve great success you have to move somewhere like America where self-confidence and self-assurance are considered valuable and you can get a lot more arrogant before it starts grating on people.


*There are 5 free-to-air networks and cable TV exists, but is nowhere near as prevalent as in the US. Satellite TV is more or less unheard of, or at least was when I left.

**This may be why hospitality service in Australia seems to be a bit crappier than the US. Australians do not enjoy being in a position of servitude to other people, and compensate for it with a snotty attitude. Also they get paid a decent wage, so they don't need to kiss your arse*** for tips.

***I'm spelling it the Aussie way for this post; it seemed appropriate.

Thesis: The fall of Beyoncé.

I read somewhere recently that Michelle Obama took her two daughters to a Beyoncé concert and afterwards took them to meet her and told her that she was a role model for them. What was Michelle thinking?! I mean I still quite like Beyoncé's music, and she used to be quite the inspiring girl, but these days? I would not want any daughter of mine emulating her.

Back in the day, Destiny's Child were probably the first step I took to admitting to myself and the world that I enjoyed popular, and particularly "modern R&B", music. You could sing along (until they did their vocal acrobatic bits), you could dance to it, and it just sounded good.

Beyoncé was clearly the standout performer of the group, especially when they shed a couple of girls and became Beyoncé and the Other Two for the album Survivor. I loved that album, and I enjoyed the messages they sent in their songs that were all about being a powerful independent woman, able to take care of oneself and not relying on a man although enjoying their company quite a lot. I also found it quite sweet that they included an a capella gospel song bonus track dedicated to their singing teacher.

When Beyoncé's solo album came out, I wasn't as fond of some of the songs as I had been of the DC songs, but I still got the CD eventually. I grew to love most of the songs on that CD as well.
In particular the song Yes, about ditching a boy who tries to pressure her into sex, which I believe every teenage girl should listen to:

You said I moved too slow
I showed you to the door
You said you'd call me later
I said don't call no more
It is cool if you can't wait for me
I'm glad you let me know
Cause you showed me your true face baby the first time I said no

I said yes to your number and yes to you dating me
Yes we can be together but you gotta wait for me
The first time I said no
Its like I never said yes (like I never said yes)

There were other songs touching on such worthy topics as relying only on yourself rather than other people, ending toxic relationships and so on.

However, the shape of things to come was heralded with the clip for Baby Boy, a duet with Sean Paul, wherein she writhes around and gasps in the manner of a lady having an extremely private moment.

Fast forward to the present day.

Her current album doesn't seem to contain any "message" songs, unless the message is that only diamonds can secure affection (Single Ladies) and double entendres can be so obvious as to be almost single entendres (Ego). She's wealthy and successful, but she didn't do it by herself; her parents and particularly her manager father have masterminded every step.

Further, she is now married to a man whose musical record and personal history show very little respect for women. Jay-Z refers to women in his songs as bitches and hoes, and is known to have consorted with groupies throughout his career. Not only that but he proudly and publicly credits his current success as a rap mogul to his previous career as a drug dealer, particularly in the song Roc Boys:

I wanna thank my connect
The most important person
With all due respect
Thanks to the duffel bag
The brown paper bag
The Nike shoe box
For holding all his cash
Boys in blue who put greed
Before the badge
The 1st pusher whoever made the stash

What happened, Beyoncé?

Over to You: "It was the best of times, it was the BLURST of times?!"

I was going to write a mini-thesis on the differences between Americans and Australians based on viewings of each country's Projecct Runway, but I haven't time*, so I want you guys to tell me:

1. Which country you live in
2. The first great thing about that country that springs to mind
3. The first bad thing about that country that springs to mind

I've been feeling a little homesick and I think it might help.


*Although I may still write this someday soon.

I made something pretty! (updated)

So remember when I said I would create an award for G Henry's word verification game?

Well he announced the winner (international man of mystery Cooper Green) and posted my fishy little award for all to see!

UPDATE:
Not only that, but Cooper very kindly declared that he nominated me for my own Straight Pimpin' Award since it was through my pimping efforts that he found G Henry's blog, Goldfish Broth, in the first place.

I was stupidly confused at first and thought he meant he was nominating me for the award I had designed for G Henry.

It's a good thing I'm pretty.

UPDATE UPDATE:
Somehow in the confusion I managed to coerce poor Cooper into creating a delicious response to my Big Fish Award, both are now happily ensconced in my sidebar!

More Macro Goodness!

I cannot take credit for these ones! They are all the work of The Husband, who overcame an intense dislike of spiders to get close to this guy.

^ a golden silk orbweaver. I like her fuzzy legwarmers, and her skull-like head. and the fact that her bite is not poisonous to humans. I do wish she'd eat more mosquitoes though.


^ a green anole lizard sunning himself on a tree branch. they are slightly bigger than the skinks I'm used to from home. I think they're dear little things. a common sight in our backyard on sunny days - luckily the dogs haven't caught any yet. I wish they'd catch more mosquitoes too.

Required reading

I think this article on playing the "race card", by Tim Wise, should be required reading for all Americans - if not, as I commented there, all humans (originally posted here, containing the reference material).

It's kind of long, especially for someone like me with a ridiculously short attention span, but he makes points that people simply need to hear.

You know, I wasn't going to shorthand it, but it's really long. I do desperately urge you to read the whole thing, but it does require a little time which you may not have right away. Basically it's a brilliant demolition of white America's attempts to write off any black American complaint of racism as "playing the race card". I was already aware in a general sense of how deeply race affects pretty much everything in America, but the statistics and situations he quotes are still pretty horrifying.

I know people do this, but I'm not sure why; perhaps it makes us uncomfortable to think we might have a hand in another person's suffering, but it's easier to dismiss or minimize their experiences rather than roll up our sleeves and work on stopping it.

When I was reading it I was reminded of a conversation I was involved in back in high school, where a (self-described) Australian-born Chinese girl asked our reasonably racially diverse (albeit all-girl) group to raise their hands if they had experienced racism directed towards them. Out of a group of about 20 or 30 girls*, every single non-Caucasian girl raised her hand.

Up until that moment, being a whitey myself and having been raised in a racially- but not politically-diverse environment, I had thought of racism as the province of history or the occasional old person. That moment stuck with me and was the beginning of my eyes being opened.

I will not apologize** for trying to open other people's eyes in the same way here on my blog, a space I consider my own. I can't force you to read the link, or to take away from it what I did, but it is my sincere hope that you do.


*I can't remember exact numbers. It was a long time ago, okay?!
**As sometimes bloggers feel they ought to when stating strong opinions. Why is that?

Over to You: The true life story of...

What movie genre do you think the story of your life would be best suited to (and why)?

A romantic tearjerker? A Michael Bay blockbuster? Drama, thriller, black comedy?

Would it even be a movie? What about a TV show, or some other form like a comic book, an opera, or a photo essay?

I think my life story would be eerily similar to I Love Lucy: the wacky, attention-addicted wife with no logical thought processes who always gets into scrapes but somehow manages to be lovable... and stylishly dressed.

I don't know what you heard about me...

I just invented an award, y'all!

May I present the Straight Pimpin' Award for Excellence in the Field of Showcasing Other People's Excellence.


I must stress that in this sense, pimping does not refer to touting the services of ladies of negotiable affection*, but rather to the blogosphere sense of the word, which is the promotion of another blog via your own.

Basically, this award is for bloggers who have alerted me to other awesome bloggers. Now this only works if you like the blogs they introduce you to, but I must say I have found some of my most favorite blogs this way.

This award is kind of memey, but only if you want it to be. What that means is, I will award it to people who I consider to be excellent blog-pimps, but:

1. you may nominate yourself or another blogger by commenting here with a link to a relevant pimptastic post.

2. If you are a winner, you may choose to pass on the award to other pimps. But please let me know (with a link) if you do.

The winners of the inaugural Straight Pimpin' Award for Excellence in the Field of Showcasing Other People's Excellence are:

the girl with the pink teacup for this post on BILFs, with the promise of more pimping to follow...

katrocket for this post which pimps some of my favorite bloggers - I'm pretty sure it's how I discovered the third winner...

and Eric the Bored NeoClassical Guy for this ultra-subtle pimpage which introduced me to the newest addition to my blogroll!



*Thank you, Terry Pratchett.

Bo-ring. Do another one about funny Aussie words!

I sometimes think about the secret inner life of humans, and bloggers in particular.

We share our most intimate and true thoughts, feelings and experiences with each other, and yet for the most part we don't really know each other at all.

Anyone walking down the street could be a blogger. Not just that but a blogger you've read. The chick who just sold you your venti Americano could be the most hilarious writer you'll ever read. The guy who fixes your computer could be a sweet, romantic soul. That soccer mom who jogs around your block every morning could be sharing the saucy details of her sex life or exploiting her children for humorous purposes. The dude you just bought stamps from might be a skilled photographer or a talented poet.

On the other side of the coin, you will be aware of the physical appearance of some bloggers whereas others prefer to keep their real identity extremely secret. Sometimes you will have been reading a blog for some time, and have formed a mental image of the person based on their writing - only to find out when they post a photo that your assumptions were startlingly inaccurate.

You cannot know what is in someone's soul on first acquaintance. As much as I love judging people*, being involved in blogging reminds me to be less judgmental of my fellow humans, because I have been invited inside people's private thoughts and been surprised at the depth and complexity of so many of you. Not to mention your intelligence and capacity to make me laugh (and cry, and sigh).

What's the point of this story? You guys rock. And don't let the real world tell you any different, because they don't know you like I do.


*It's kind of a hobby.

Original Drafts VIII

Song requested by: the girl with the pink teacup.

Soda Fountain of Knowledge (Language Edition): Fun Size Aussie Words

Strewth*! It's been a while since I've done a Soda Fountain of Knowledge post! Here is a collection of Aussie words, very typical in that they are merely shortened forms of existing words - I guess it's too bloody hot to say long words.

hanky: n. handkerchief
As in "Don't put that disgusting used hanky back in your pocket!"

nightie: n. nightgown
As in "I couldn't sleep last night, I was up & down like a bride's nightie!"

chewy: n. chewing gum
As in "Got any chewy, mate?"

ciggie: n. cigarette
As in "Strewth, I need to cut back on the ciggies."


On a side note, why do we ask to borrow cigarettes and tissues and things like that? If you "borrow" a tissue from me, there's no way in hell I'm letting you return it.


*Strewth is an Aussie exclamation that I believe the whitefellas imported from Britain. It comes from a much older oath, God's truth! Similarly, Zounds! comes from God's wounds!

Original Drafts VII

Song requested by: Words... words... words.

Fun Size Over to You: Avataristic

Happy Fourth of July to all my American readers!
And Happy Saturday to everyone else : )

I guess not many of you will be reading today so here's a quick thought for the weekend:

If I were a cartoon character, I would be either Hello Kitty or one of those schoolgirls from Neon Genesis Evangelion.

I mean, you can't go wrong with cute Japanese schoolgirls who can control massive violent robots, amiright? I pretty much already have the almost-crying giant wobbly eyes thing down, and I'm pretty sure dark pink ovals appear on my cheeks when I'm embarrassed.

If you were a cartoon character, who would you be and why?

Something fishy and fun

You guys, you have to go to Goldfish Broth right now! and play the word verification definition game.

I know it's been done before, but it's always so much fun!!! Plus, read his own post of w/v definitions before you go and you will realize just how high a standard you will be held to in G. Henry's arena. Anyone who uses the word paucity correctly in a blog post deserves as many readers as can be shepherded his way.

...Again with the pimping?

Yes. Because even though there's a high likelihood that pointing my readers towards blogs which are infinitely funnier than mine will only result in an even sadder comment count for me, I must share this with you.

That's how much of a saint I am.

UPDATE: It's official, I'm going to be designing an award for the winner!!!

Entry into Heaven = guaranteed *dusts hands off smugly*.

I win! I win!

So y'all remember that I won a prize from my blog homeboy Joshlos.

Well he made an awesome post about sending it, and it has arrived at Candysoda Castle, so I thought I'd post about it too just to make y'all jealous!

Here is a photo of my delicious bounty along with a note from Jam Master Josh himself (click to embiggen):

3x king size Snickers Almond bars, which were 2 piece at the start of their journey but as you can see having encountered what must be at least 150º Fahrenheit* on arrival in the dirty dirty** arrived in pulpy, almost-liquid form.
Thankfully they reconstituted quite well - although it takes 20 minutes to unwrap one - and taste like heaven.

2x 14 ounce bags of Skittles, which due to my unfamiliarity with your crazy imperial system I keep referring to as 14 pound bags. I took a bag to the office and now everyone keeps coming to visit me and my bowl of Skittles.
Lesson? Sugar = popularity.

AND Josh made me an award. Which I heart bigtime (and only adjusted the colors a little to fit my bloggy decor):




*As far as I know I'm not exaggerating... am still getting the hang of Fahrenheit, but it is bloody boiling here.

**I'm pretty much a hardcore gangsta. For those of you who aren't, the dirty dirty = Southern states of the USA.