We're back from part two of our experimental vacation week. This time, instead of asking "Can we survive camping?", we asked, "Can we vacation with the dog?" So we bought her a car harness (for her protection and ours) and drove down with her to a nice little cottage we booked in Rye, where we passed four days visiting wineries, padding through tide pools, and generally making gluttons of ourselves. All was lovely but the dog's not too keen on being left alone in an unfamiliar place. Not that she destroyed anything, but she was very clingy when we came back from our excursions.

Back now from our first ever camping trip. I knew that sleeping bag I got Marjorie for Christmas eight years ago would come in handy some day.

We headed down to Wilsons Prom, and had a loverly time.

The beach just off our camp site, Norman Beach, was maybe the nicest beach I've ever been on. The sand was like it was filtered, it was so soft; the water was crystal clear, the setting beautiful, and there was hardly anybody there. We also took a hike over the tidal river to Squeaky Beach.

I'm too bony to even sit on hard ground, much less sleep on it, so I had trouble with just a foam pad and sleeping bag. The first night I couldn't sleep so I got up to look at stars. There weren't that many visible, just because the full moon was too big and bright, but I was still treated to the incredible view of a low blanket cloud streaming over a distant mountain range directly under the full moon. When I came back to our site, one of these guys was sniffing around the space between the car and the tent. I woke Marjorie and we went chasing it through the woods.

A few new birds spotted, most notably a number of swift parrots.

Scary coincidence -- the people at the next site started playing some music, and straight away I recognized it as my funeral song that I just mogged about. As another data point that there's no such thing as omens, I wasn't eaten by a great white the next day.

We'll go back at some point, I'm sure.

We saw the Pretenders over the weekend at nice venue. We were supposed to see Paul Kelly and The Church as well, but we FORGOT THAT WE HAD TICKETS to this show until we got a call from the organizer at around 4:30.

I blame early onset senility. Anyway, they were really good. Chrissie was in fine voice, and looking damn good, too. At one point she played a song I didn't recognize, what I thought was a good song, and said that it was "for the two people who bought our last album". I was going to post a link to it but I can't find much reference to any recent album by them since like 2003. What gives?

What, another? I've got a new myspace-y kind of deal going on over at mog.com, which is (yet another) social networking site, this one for music geeks. I'm even blogging there a bunch, at least for the moment, so if you'd like to watch me take a metaphorical bubble bath in front of you while nattering on about bands you probably have no interest in, drop on by.

The music fairy visited us, apparently. I was thinking of tracking down some of Phoenix's earlier albums, since I liked their recent one so much. Today I was looking through our collection and found a burned copy of their album "United" that neither I nor Marjorie had ever listened to, or even noticed. And neither of us has any idea where it came from.

Was this a gift from any of you that we somehow just shelved and never played?

Here there be dragons. Another nice bit of novelty on Saturday as we went for a snorkeling trip in Port Phillip bay, two hours south of the city. Animals that actually touched my hand included:

• A weedy sea dragon, which is what we went down there to see
  
• A black-lipped abalone (worth about $40-$50)
  
• A sea urchin
  
• A puffer fish, caught by the guide and actually puffed out like this
  

Fun day. Fortunately, the seal and penguin colonies are around the other side of the peninsula, and these guys don't really ever wander into the bay.

A fun new experience Friday night as we went out to see the cricket (it's always "the cricket" in that context, not just "cricket") with some of Marjorie's work friends at the Melbourne legendary MCG. I brought along a printout of this page which explains cricket so Americans can understand, and ended up quite enjoying it, despite occasional confusion. The results were good too. It lasted from 2:30 to 9:40 or so (and bear in mind this is the shortened version of cricket), but we didn't show up until 5ish. Probably the biggest crowd at any sporting event I've ever been to, too -- the attendance topped 78,000, and the crowd was as much fun to watch as the match.

In May, for our fifth anniversary, we're going to have our honeymoon at last. (Yes, we've been around the world, but have yet to have an official honeymoon.) We're booked to go to the Cook Islands, or more specifically, Rarotonga and Aitutaki.

I knew working at Lonely Planet would be dangerous.

Actually, this is probably the first trip ever that we budgeted and saved for (as opposed to "Hey, we have $500 in the bank, want to go to Chicago?"). We are going to splash out for a few nights at a nice resort in Aitutaki (the true cost of this trip may well be that we become spoiled for the inferior resorts -- you know, where the commoners stay).

We'll have one night in Auckland on the way, too, which will probably leave us wanting to visit more of NZ. The list of places to visit only ever grows...

I'm a fan of 007 movies so much so that I've boycotted them all for the last ten years or so. It's the snotty purist in me. They've evolved into everything I hate about Hollywood blockbusters. Big special effects, moronic plots, and emotionless superhero protagonists who sleepwalk from one scene to the next. Connery used to sweat, man.

The reviews for the new one, Casino Royale, lured me back, trepidatiously, to the theater. And you know what? It was good. I was a little worried after the slightly over-the-top opening chase scene, but they reeled it in, and actually made Bond an interesting character again. A huge step in the right direction.

I'd tell you to go see it, but if it's too big of a hit, then the same bozo producers who've been ruining the series will get called in for the next.

Happy New Year to all -- ours started nice, a small gathering with friends, and fireworks in four directions from their rooftop patio.

Beyond taking a hiatus from alcohol, my other resolution seems to be to try again to make it through Joseph Heller's "Something Happened". This'll be my third try. Not because the prose is difficult -- in fact, you won't find a book that's written more clearly. Just because it's such a downer. Reading it is the literary equivalent of a solo trek across the Arctic Circle (all stark beauty and zero warmth). This time along I've packed a sense of ironic detachment, which should see me through.

I had no detachment at all tonight, though, as we watched the final episode of Six Feet Under. So much so that I can't write about it yet...

Was greeted at work yesterday morning by the fastest animal on Earth -- a peregrine falcon. She brought along a pigeon for breakfast as she perched just outside the office where I was working, twenty-seven floors up in the center of town. She sat there for about forty-five minutes, reducing the pigeon to a pair of wings and a rib cage, which she courteously left for us on the ledge. Better than dropping it on some passerby's head, I guess.

I got a new phone with a camera on it from Santa, but it went kaput two days later. So the above photo was from someone else in the office. Seems everyone has a camera phone these days. We saw Modest Mouse last night, and the little LED displays were a constant distraction (not that I wouldn't have taken a photo if my phone had been working). Really good show, and as a bonus treat for Marjorie (an old Smiths fan), Johnny Marr is now a member.

The year in music. Not at all a banner year for me. I can only think of four new albums that I got at all familiar with:

Augie March, "Moo, You Bloody Choir". Strummy pop. Local boys done good. Contains the line of the year: "Love came to you like a bolt from the blue/And what is a bolt but a glorified screw?"

Ron Sexsmith, whatever his new one was called. Forgettable.

Jet, "Shine On". More local boys, but you wouldn't know it because they never play here. A solid effort.

Phoenix, "It's Never Been Like That". (Marjorie scored a copy by flirting with the guy at her coffee place.) Probably would have topped my list no matter what else I listened to. Bright guitar pop from a bunch of French dudes (in English though). Rare in that it stands up to both the close listen required of serious song-based pop, and also as just background atmospherics. Mark says check it out.

Tomorrow we're off to see Modest Mouse. Woop!

Reasons why Christmas in Australia is a pale imitation:

Hardly anyone puts out Christmas lights. It's light until almost 9 pm this time of year anyway.

There's no Thanksgiving, so there's no day-after-Thanksgiving shopping madness day to set the tone.

No cold weather. Although Christmas started in the middle east, the northern hemisphere totally pwns it now. So much so that they spray fake snow on Christmas displays. (Today's forcast though: "Mostly cloudy with showers. Local hail and thunder. Fresh to strong and gusty southwest to southerly wind. High of 16C -- about 60F.")

A Christmas Story only shows on pay per view.

USA: A Charlie Brown Christmas. Melbourne: Illicit wombat/platypus love.

We miss you all very much!

Silly season. Christmas party was fun. I kept the mo' because there was a pirate theme. Only one photo is known to exist of my costume, and it's from behind. (Recognise the bird, Mom?)

The mo' is no mo'. Marjorie is glad. Thanks to all who donated.

Marjorie's party was fun too. Just a few more holiday gatherings to get through. Then, we're going alcohol-free for the month of January (at least until the 26th, when we're going to a concert at a winery). I'm all about the month-long self-improvement exercises these days.

Not much new, but one has to report in every now and again, if one is to keep a blog.

Last weekend there was a haze of smoke over the city, and the smell of burning countryside. Very hot and dry, but then the weather changed (in about a minute, like it always does here) and conditions improved. Things are still burning however, and spreading from the high winds. No danger to us here though.

Slammed at work, trying to learn all the Lonely Planet stuff while still supporting my previous project. December is my least favorite month. Always stressful. I blame Jesus.

I've kept the mo' for now, because our Christmas party this Friday has a "pirate" theme. Marjorie's sick of it. After all my pleas for sponsorship, she's wondering who she has to pay for me to shave the thing off.

For no reason at all, here's a list of the places that I've flown through but never visited:

Dallas

Phoenix

Cincinnati

Houston

Brussels

Hong Kong

Reykjavik

Auckland

Who would've thought that after all these years, facial hair doesn't actually look all that bad on me, by most accounts. Check the beard, the goatee, and the subsequent mo.

Yeah. It's all well and good until you realise that I look like this guy. So family, friends, do me a favour, okay? Go here, and enter my Rego number (5917) and your credit card details to sponsor me. It's for a good cause.

Novelty: a new wine, a new sandwich, blah, blah, blah... Grew tired of tracking the new things I was doing every day. I'll still try to keep it up for the month, but the exercise has already proved enlightening. It seems that more days go by than I thought where I don't do anything new or creative. Several times I've had to scramble at the end of the day to find something that qualifies. I have a theory now as well, that whenever you find yourself thinking "Man, this week/month/year has flown by fast", it's probably because you had a high number of days that were no different from the others during that time period. That will always be a warning sign to me from now on.

Mo update: I had a full beard as of yesterday, but then shaved it down to where it's officially a "mo". I'll post pictures of both tomorrow. I think the mo is pretty hideous but Marjorie likes it, at least for now.

Do me a favour and take this quiz and post your results in the comments. See if it doesn't nail where you're from as well as it did me and a bunch of other people on a mailing list that I frequent.

Novelty update. Falling a little behind here -- before I forget, here are the exciting (not) new things that I've done this week:

Tuesday: Watched the whole first season of the American version of The Office. Surprisingly good, for something that's an adaptation of a British show. (I know it's a TV show, but it was a rental, so I'm counting it.)

Wednesday: First day working at Lonely Planet, and ate at the LP cafe.

Thursday: Tried a greasy spoon down the street from LP. Decent burger.

Friday: Tried another nicer cafe down the street from LP. Asian wrap was decent. That pretty much covers it for the lunch options around the place.

Saturday: Had a Speight's Ale at the Limerick Hotel.

So here it is, our third experience with Melbourne Cup Day, a.k.a. The Race That Stops A Nation. (Third already? How time flies.) For an interesting take on the festivities, check out Mark Twain's account from a century ago. Not much has changed.

(Sunday's novelty: Spotted a leaden flycatcher in the backyard; the first new bird spotting in the city in a long time. Yesterday's: Played around with an interactive music channel I didn't know we were getting on our satellite TV, and fell asleep to classical music.)