Divide and... Surrender The Remote

I don't know how my siblings and I didn't kill each other. Four children - and one TV for a long time.. My parents either could foresee guerrilla tactics being surreptitiously practiced in bedrooms, or just got tired of insisting that the ABC was cool - and upgraded to three TVs in my teenage years. The black & white one in my brother's room didn't really count though. His room reeked of his rugby socks and the TV operated similar to the juke box on Happy Days.

These weird limbo days before S & I move in together seem to revolve around who will be watching what and where we will be watching it. Much like Tony and Julia, S has had to surrender to the Master Chef phenomenon and knows that there is more chance of Kevin Rudd staging a coup d'etat and storming The National Press Club than there is of anything else been viewed at 730pm this evening.

For the most part, S & I have the same taste. Altough I know he sacrifices a lot for me, like Friday Night Football, not to mention Mondays. And I have loved the new programmes introduced to me, just as sharing Mad Men has enriched our take away & red wine nights. I knew he would love it. What's not to love? But there isn't just the two of us. A ten year old and a two a half year olds' taste is somewhat....pedigree? Thomas The Tank Engine and Merlin can drive one slightly insane, not to mention Dr Who, which still freaks me out. Seriously freaks me out.

So the blending of families will mean the blending of tvs and taste. Give and take. That's my motto - although this is damn hard. Having lived on our own for some time there are little idiosyncratic viewing habits that will have to be ditched, or exposed. Watching Neighbours will no longer be able to be passed off as "I'm just doing it so M can talk to me about current issues that it so responsibly exposes". This guilty secret has been outed. I like it. And can't take credibility from the fact that I don't watch Home & Away. It's like saying I didn't inhale. No one buys it.

So healthy viewing it will be. Only watch things that you would not be ashamed to watch with George Negus (I struggled to think of a better social media barometer - help here would be appreciated).

Bring on August and blended TV and save me from myself. But tonight I am going to indulge fully in Master Chef, knowing that the rest of the country (bar S) is right there along with me. I just went to Coles and my regular Sales Assistant was dressed bizarrely in chefs hat and apron. I have refrained from calling these guys anything like Check Out Chicks/Charlies since I have found myself riding the same buses and socialising in the same wine bars as these diverse men and women. This is what happens when you live in the same little pocket for nearly 3 years, you start to be on familiar terms with everyone. Anyway, I found myself in a heated debate whilst he checked through my vegetables and toilet rolls. He is adamant that Callum should win for the very reason that I think he shouldn't - he has stuffed up so many times. I, on the other hand, firmly believe that Adam will be crowned the winner (providing the crown will fit over his bun that is). I walked away shaking my head in disbelief but also quietly acknowledging his argument. Perhaps it was his chef's hat that gave him that unexpected air of authority....

So I will think of my dressed up Sales Assistant tonight as I am watching my beloved programme. While my beloved will be wresting the remote from his two & a half year old's precious grasp after the 11th episode of Thomas The Tank Engine. Everyone happy? Not overly as I don't get to snuggle and share. But some things must be sacrificed. Just ask Julia and Tony. Not to mention poor old Kevin. I wonder what he'll be watching tonight? My bet will be on Master Chef, with a prerecording starting an hour early.

Winter White (accompanied by a Red)

My boyfriend says I hate the cold. I don't. I love it. If I'm in bed snuggling. Or in front of a fire with a beautiful glass of Red. Or in a cosy restaurant with good friends - and that Red again.... Seems to be cropping up a lot doesn't it? Which leads to my next point. Winter indulgence......

It's harder to be naked in Winter. And easier not to be. But I'm training myself not to think that way - otherwise come Summer one tends to be in for a nasty surprise. So I steam up the bathroom (somewhat akin to putting Vaseline on the lens) and take a good, long hard look at myself every morning and night. I am brown in Summer. Let's just say I'm a paler shade these cooler months. Tans make you look thinner. Everyone knows that. So what I am doing is forcing myself to be truly honest and to try to like my body - white and all.

It's harder to do things in Winter. It's harder to get up. It's harder to be sexy. It's harder to put those gym clothes on when those flannelet PJ's are just so damn snugly.... I notice it with kids too. They don't want to get dressed. What is the point? They don't care what people think.

I have to confess (and this is a biggie - I'm sure I will feel better once its out there), there are times in Winter when I secretly wish I was a bogan. I think they are on to something with their flannys and Ug Boots. Seriously. I read somewhere the other day that Ug Boots are selling in London around the 300 Pound mark (where do I find the pound symbol on my laptop - can anyone tell me btw?) Now this is confronting. It's getting expensive to be a bogan. In Winter anyway. Not sure if prices are hiked on thongs (both types) in the Summer or tattooists decide to set up shop permanently in Ibiza - for an obvious plethora of customers and to let their hair (streaked of course) down themselves.

The other thing about bogans is that they don't seem to give a toss about what other people think. I like that. Also - have you noticed how many of them are stick thin? But now I am really going off track - or tracksuit - seeing we are on a theme. I don't want to be a bogan. I just want to dress like one. Sometimes - sans tatts and the obligitory pack of Winny Reds. I am advocating the classy bogan. Think Lara Bingle. Although not sure about the class there... But I bet she doesn't look bad naked in Winter. Russell Crowe? But only on a good day. You have to admit he's incredibly articulate and he is teaching all those football players to play chess....

Anyway - I will try to maintain some element of class and body consciousness this winter. If you see me on the street, however, in a pair of uggies and gazing longingly in the window of a chocolate shop and carrying brochures for some Spanish getaway- please forgive me. I am just going with the times. I'll worry about demisting the mirror in September.