I'm going to live in Samoa for twelve months!

I'm very excited! I just found out I'm going to live and work in Samoa for twelve months next year as an Australian Youth Ambassador for Development. I can't believe I got chosen to go.



I'll be a Library Management Officer at the National University of Samoa library.

I can't wait to live overseas again (I lived in London for six months when I was 21).



The timing is ideal. I can leave my Brunswick share house pretty easily and store my stuff with my folks; I'm recently single, which does make it a lot easier to leave Melbourne; I've just finished my masters; and I haven't found a really plum, permanent librarian job here yet.

I actually applied for Samoa the day before I was dumped out of the blue by my boyfriend-of-a-year. I don't know if I believe in fate, but it feels like there's an element of it here.



So look out for Better than Cheesecake becoming a travel blog from March next year!

My life at 26 years old

Since I last wrote in my blog:

I turned 25... and 26.

I qualified as a librarian and completed a masters degree.


I started a job in a public library as a cataloguer. Stereotypically, we're even nerdier than your average librarian! We know the Dewey Decimal System intimately and speak in code, such as: "Would you add a 246 to that record?"

I like having a profession. It makes the "So, what do you do?" question easy to answer. When I was studying politics, people asked if I wanted to be the first female Prime Minister. When I was studying English Lit, people would ask if I wanted to write the Great Australian Novel. Now, as a librarian, I typically get two responses - "Oh, that's so cool! I wanted to be a librarian when I was little!" or people think it's boring, and we talk about something else.

I am still head over heels in love with swing dancing, and had a million swing dances with a million lovely leads, dancing to the music I love in Melbourne, Adelaide and Hobart. This is me on my 26th birthday, dancing with my friend Phil.



I had a boyfriend for one year, hereby to be known as the biker. It was a good year. I plan to be over him soon.

I read some fantastic books. Of particular note are:

In cold blood by Truman Capote. Capote made me empathise with a cold blooded killer. An incredible book.



The autobiography of Malcolm X by Malcolm X and Alex Haley. I am absolutely fascinated by the man. Lindy Hopper, small-time crim, drug addict, Black Muslim. He knew he destined to die young.



The complete Maus by Art Spiegelman. Art Spiegelman's father's story of surviving the Holocaust, with Jews represented as mice and Germans as cats.



Brave new world by Aldous Huxley. A classic. Reminiscent of 1984. Written in 1932, it remains fresh, relevant, and as scary as ever.



Breath by Tim Winton. I think it can safely be called a Great Australian Novel. It's about risk, passion, and masculinity. I couldn't stop reading it.



The Spare Room by Helen Garner. I love the domestic, everyday nature of her fiction writing. As always, I can't help but read her 'fiction' as autobiographical. I hope the dodgy cancer clinic man gets the karma that is coming to him.



The Great Gatsby: a graphic adaptation by Nikki Greenberg. I read Fitzgerald's version as a teenager, and didn't really get it. Greenberg's adaptation helps, and I adore the way she visualises it.



Naked by David Sedaris. How is it that I have only discovered this irreverent, witty writer this year??



Princesses and pornstars by Emily Maguire. I think it's an important, grounded postfeminist text.



The collected Dorothy Parker by Dorothey "Men seldom make passes at girls who wear glasses" Parker. I love her.



I watched every single episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Even season seven. The only saving grace of that series was the Anya episode where she sings. I'm now making my way through The Gilmore Girls (I love all the film and literary references). And I am crushing on both Bret and Jermaine from Flight of the Conchords. First Tuesday Book Club is about the only show I watch on the tele.

I am more positive about the world under Rudd and Obama's leadership.

I ride my shiny red bike everywhere.

I am comfortable in my body and like my curves.

I like my life. I go out a lot, and am less shy then I used to be. I blogged more back then when I was shyer. I needed it as a communication outlet.

I think I'm ready to write again. I hope so.

Weird American Traditions #1: Halloween

"Happy Halloween y'all!"

...is what I'd be saying if I was American.

As I'm an Aussie, Halloween usually slips by without me even noticing it.

We just don't do Halloween here.

While pretty much every other aspect of our culture is Americanised, trick-or-treaters we ain't.

The only American tradition more foreign to me is Thanksgiving. At least I understand the Halloween concept. All I know about Thanksgiving is that it involves turkeys and cranberry sauce... and maybe pilgrims. Does it involve pilgrims?



When I was a wee lassie* my friends and I made a couple of half-arsed attempts at trick-or-treating. If we bothered to dress up at all, it wasn't particularly inspired. I seem to remember wetting a green m-and-m and using it like a lipstick, which turned us into 'witches'. When we trawled the Mont Albert streets door-knocking, every single house we visited was unaware it was Halloween. So we scored:

a) nothing
b) muesli bars, or
c) money!

The latter was pretty sweet. Gold coins go a long way when you're eleven.

This year, the only indication I've had that All Hallows Eve is upon up is a small, hastily-put-together stand in my local supermarket with some masks and fake teeth. It was far outshadowed by the Christmas display anyway. Which is so necessary in October.

The only reason I remembered it was Halloween today is because there was a lady on my morning tram dressed entirely in black wearing an enormous black witches hat. I have to admire her dedication to the cause. If I had been off to an early-morning Halloween party(?) I think I would have carried my hat with me, not worn it.
That said, she did get off at the Royal Children's Hospital stop, so perhaps her everyday job is to dress up as a witch and scare the little kiddies! At least that's what I thought in my early morning daze.**

Anyhoo, here's a picture of Jake Gyllenhaal in my favourite movie-featuring-a-Halloween-scene Donnie Darko. (Second favourite: Meet Me In St. Louis.) You can come to my 'Halloween party' anytime, Jakey.



*And Scottish, apparently!

** OK, so it was 10am. But I'm a full-time student in the middle of the exam period. 10am is like the middle of the night to me.

Hot guys 3: smart, nerdy Jewish guys.

I'm still getting requests for more of these posts. It might have to become a regular feature!

I've got a bit of a thing for smart, nerdy, slightly neurotic Jewish guys of the Woody Allen variety.

I'm not sure why. It could relate back to high school, where my favourite teacher was a smart Jewish guy. I wouldn't say he was 'hot' though. If I remember correctly, he was a Rabbi, and he reminded me more of Teyve from Fiddler on the Roof than Woody Allen.

All together now:

If I were a rich man,
Ya ha deedle deedle, bubba bubba deedle deedle dum.
All day long I'd biddy biddy bum.
If I were a wealthy man.
I wouldn't have to work hard.
Ya ha deedle deedle, bubba bubba deedle deedle dum.
If I were a biddy biddy rich,
Yidle-diddle-didle-didle man.

Maybe it's because through my knowledge of pop culture, I link smart, nerdy Jewish guys to New York City, which is the place I'd like to visit the most in the entire world.

Or perhaps it's because I see this type of guy as unattainable. I'm a shiksa - a non-Jewish woman - and traditionally, children have to have a Jewish mother to be considered Jewish. Which is quite a strong reason for Jewish men to marry Jewish women.

I haven't completely given up hope though. Kristina Grish has written a whole book about shiksas dating Jewish guys, Boy Vey! The Shiksa's Guide to Dating Jewish Men.

Anyway, enough about my idiosyncrasies, on to the pictures!





Jonathan Safran Foer, author of Everything is Illuminated. That first picture is great; he looks like he could be a librarian! And then I could work with him... And then we could find a quite corner of the history stacks...

Sorry, I'm getting off track.





Danny Katz. Danny Katz is hilarious. I love his columns in The Age and when he answers the reader questions in the Good Weekend. His columns often make mention of his beloved, whom I believe is a shiksa. There's hope for me yet!





John Safran. I like how outspoken and opinionated he is. The interplay between him and Father Bob Maguire on shows like Sunday Night Safran is gold.






Woody Allen. There's just something about him.

Thinking about this type of guy, it's probably their intelligence that makes them sexy, rather than their looks. Which is probably a downfall for a largely pictorial blog entry.

Still, as a single girl who is in a period of exploring what and whom I find attractive, I have to admit these guys do it for me.

Intelligence is a very sexy quality.

Link: Jewlicious

*Update*

For Stef:

David Krumholtz. Hot Damn!

Would the penalty have been as harsh if he'd been a white Australian? It's doubtful.

The culture of fear is alive and well in Australia.

Not only is the Sydney Lord Mayor advocating residents prepare an emergency kit for any potential terrorist attacks, a man will be placed in a detention centre, then eventually deported because he gave his SIM card to his cousin. The cousin was then involved in the recent terrorist activity in London.

There had better be more to it than that. If all he did was hand his cousin a SIM card, we're probably all potential terrorists.

As Ron Hyndman wrote in today's letters to the editor in The Age:

OK, I confess. I recklessly loaned my phone to someone I didn't know well. I also recklessly stopped to help a woman whose car had broken down. Then I recklessly paid for a man's lunch when he couldn't do so himself. Any one of them could have been a terrorist. I plead guilty.
Please lock me up. I'm a danger to society. I'd rather die in prison for reckless acts of kindness than live a free man in a country where love, mercy and compassion are outlawed.

*Update* There is a great opinion piece about the issue by Julian Burnside here.

P.S. Like Burnside's style? Come join us at the Facebook group, Julian Burnside is the thinking woman's crumpet.

P.P.S. Not interested in the Burnside group? Alternatively, let me bite you on Facebook and turn you into a zombie!

Link: Let's get ready Sydney!

A new direction for BTC?

I'm on Myspace, Facebook, and I keep a blog (obviously). Much as I love the social interactivity and the creative space of the internet, sometimes I wonder about my increasing dependence on it. I feel the need to check my email every single day, even though I don't have a computer at home. Myspace is slowly becoming one of my primary methods of communication with people.

For the most part, I think the internet is a positive development. Social networking through Myspace and blogging can increase links with people in your immediate circle of friends and across the world. Yet sometimes I question the pull I feel to 'exist' online. Why do I feel the need to have my name come up when 'Susanne Newton' is entered in Google?

I enjoy blogging because I like to write, and to create something that is of interest to other people. I like the way words can be constructed and edited before they are put out into the world, in a way that can't be done with face-to-face communication. How the words you write are kept there in print; rather than being lost in face-to-face conversation. Recorded for prosperity.

In internet communication, there is a distance between the writer and the reader; a screen between us. Yet there is also a closeness and intimacy that can be reached through blogging, a cerebral element. I have never met many of the people whose blogs I read, and who read this blog, yet I know what they think about, what they are interested in. Perhaps the distance of the screen allows bloggers to be personal and intimate in a way that might not come so easily face-to-face.

These days I'm more confident than I used to be, and more of my communication is direct, face-to-face. Perhaps I don't need to blog as much as I used to.

For the most part, I shy away from getting too personal on this blog. I use my real name, and real-life friends read it. Strangely, if the blog was anonymous, I would be more open in my writing. From now on, I will try to put a bit more of my self into this blog. What have I got to lose?

Hot guys 2: the sampler box

The Cheesecake readers have called for more Beefcake!

So, ladies (and gentlemen of a certain persuasion), I present Hot guys 2: the sampler box.

Due to the perceived homogeneity of the last lot, I've aimed for a wider variety of hotness, and responded to reader requests, which were mainly for pictures of the hotness that is Christian Bale.

Here you go kids:

As requested by Stef, Sharnee and Audrey, Christian Bale:







As requested by Rosanna, Colin Firth





As requested by Audrey, Jeffrey Dean Morgan:




I'm not sure who this guy is, but I like his beard.

And, as chosen by moi:

Ryan Reynolds. I don't usually go for blonde guys, but I'll make an exception here.





Oh. My. God. He should like, never wear a shirt.

Beyond being the epitome of hotness, Reynolds is also very funny, and a blogger who uses words like "mental temerity". I'm also impressed by the fact that he dated Alanis Morissette rather than some vapid Hollywood starlet. Le sigh.

More to come next week...