The Year According To Jacki Trew

New Years Eve!
And you know what that means - time for my annual "Last Post Of The Year".
Being that it's actually the last post of the decade, I suppose I should write some semi-nostalgic recount of the last ten years. Or "The Noughties", as they're apparently being called. And lets just talk about that for a second - The Noughties? Really? Did you guys know about this? Am I the only one who didn't? Probably. I'm usually the only one who didn't. Well, all I can say is that it sucks, because I've just learned this totally cool word, and after tomorrow I won't have any reason to use it.
Damn.
Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yeah, semi-nostalgic recount post. Well I would, but the thing is, I've already done that for another website. You'll all be able to read it in a couple of days when it's published at Bower Bird & Fox, but for now I'm just gonna treat you all to a little list of what I call Jacki Trew's Greatest Hits - The 2009 Edition.
Yeah.
Basically, I'm just plugging my own blog. I am that lame. But what can I say? It's the lazy man's way. And if 2009 has taught us anything, its that I am the lazy man that people are talking about when they say "It's the lazy man's way."
Ha.
That was funny.
That's going in there.

Anyway, enjoy.

Jacki Trew's Greatest Hits - The 2009 Edition

• The one where I talk about TV and books and Albino he-she's
• The one where I give you 10 reasons to watch Alias
• The one where I'm proud to be Australian
• The one where I threaten the Fox network
• The one where I keep seeing severed heads everywhere
• The one where I'm attacked by a microwaved chicken
• The one where I got stitches for the second time
• The one where I AM FLIPPING OUT!
• The one where Sara and Michael didn't make out
• The one where I was a 6-year-old pot head
• The one where an ant colony grew in my printer
• The one where work experience was just like watching Jaws
• The one where I invented a new flavour of pizza
• The one where 10,000 BC is the worst movie ever
• The one where I pierced my own ears
• The one with the mystery smell
• The one where I was naked at netball
• The one where T-Bag came to town
• The one where we saw Beyonce
• The one where I swore too much
• The one where Parklife was totally awesome
• The one with the Secret Catherine Blog
• The one where I started a band
• The one where I become a film critic
• The one where I thought about what I might taste like
• The one where I was a heartless robot
• The one where I got stitches for the third time
• The one with my wedding invitations
• The one where I was on holidays

And finally...

• This one, where I made a really stupid joke about being lazy. Awesome.

Happy End of 09. It's been a hell of a year.

Suck My Dunk!

Good morning, Sydney.

So hey, remember this post I did a while back about the new Prison Break: Behind The Scenes book that was coming out? No? How about this one, where I talked about asking my sister to buy it for me? Still no? Well then you really need to check up on my archives more often. Seriously, go do it. I'll wait here.

While I'm waiting, let me tell you about this crazy dream I had last night. I was part of the cast of How I Met Your Mother, only we weren't really a 'cast', because the show was real life. Does that make sense? I hope so. Anyway, me and the other characters were on our way to a swimming carnival at Lane Cove pool. It was the Roseville swimming carnival, so some people from my high school were there too. That was kind of cool. Kind of awkward. Mostly cool.

Anyway, there was an internet cafe at the pool (this isn't there in real life, it was just a figment of my dream-imagination. My dramagination, if you will), and Lily (of HIMYM fame) was using one of the computers to write a novel. Her novel was called 'My Friend Doug'. I remember, because she was using PowerPoint to make the title page, and it looked like this:

Haha. Yeah. Clearly, Lily is not too creative. But that was the title page of her book.
Now, here comes the best part of the dream: Lily went outside to get her wallet, and left her computer unattended. While she was gone, Barney (also a HIMYM character) and I changed the title, so that it read: Lily came back, and, not realising that we'd changed it, printed up 500 copies.
Gold.
When she finally figured it out, she had a massive bitch fit and threw them at us. Now, why would she do that? That doesn't solve anything! What are we gonna do with 500 copies of 'My Friend Dunk'?? Well, this of course:
Hahaha. Get it? Do you get it? Suck my dunk!
...Yeah. To be fair, it was alot funnier in the dream. Perhaps we had been dream-drinking. Dreamking, if you will. That was terrible. But yes, Barney and I thought 'Suck My Dunk' was quite clever. Clever enough that we decided to post the title pages on every flat surface we could find. I actually woke up laughing. Really. I've never done that before.
Great dream.

Anyway, back to Prison Break: Behind The Scenes. I assume by now you have checked the archives and know what I am talking about. Well guess what was sitting on the kitchen table waiting for me when I got home this morning?
WENTWORTH MILLER! And he was NAKED!
I am lying of course. It was actually the Prison Break book. Which is really almost as good, since one of the first pictures is of Wentworth Miller with no shirt on.
Swoon!
So yeah, Prison Break: Behind The Scenes = mine. All mine. To read as many times as I wish. Suck it, bitches! Or should I say, suck my dunk!...bitches!

It Must-O Be The Best-O

I am so going to be more careful with my skin from now on. These stitches on my hand are such a bummer - especially since my sister keeps making jokes about how I'm 'emo' and 'keep cutting myself'.
Aha. Ahaha. NOT FUNNY, CATHERINE!
This is weird topic to bring up, but just for the record, I have so never wanted to die. Oh, except for once:

Jen: Catherine, can I borrow a jacket?
Catherine: Sure, here you go (hands jacket that has 'Musto' written on the back)
Jen: (reads) What's 'Musto'?
Catherine: Oh, that's just the name of the brand
Jacki: Well then, it must-o be the best-o. Hahaha!

(dead silence)

Jacki: Did I say that out loud?
Catherine: Yes

See what I mean? Yeah. Except not really, because that joke was awesome.
So hey, apparently it's New Years Eve in a couple of days. Is that right? Apparently. Did you guys hear that? You probably did - it's pretty much everywhere. Anyway, I hate New Years Eve. I do. I really do. I am decidedly anti New Years Eve. Ugh. Horrible. It's stressful, crowded, expensive and totally anti-climactic. I mean, we live in Sydney; there are fireworks here at least once a fortnight. IT'S NOT THAT BIG OF A DEAL!
Wow, look how crazy I am getting about this. Weird. But still. All I'm saying is that Hugh Hefner was right when he called it Amateurs Night - it's way cooler to go out on any of the other 364 nights in a year.
Hmm. That is probably the only thing Hugh Hefner and I will ever agree on. Unless Hugh Hefner is secretly gay for Wentworth Miller, which to be honest seems kind of unlikely.

Speaking of Wentworth Miller and New Years Eve, I wonder if anyone can guess how many times I've mentioned The Love Of My Life on this blog in the past year. Anyone? Anyone? Whoever guesses correctly will win my respect. Yeah. The prize would be cooler if not for the fact that I am unemployed and living at home with my Mummy. Have at it!

Bower Bird and Fox for Christmas

It's Christmas Eve! Can you believe it? Christmas Eve!
Both a day AND an eve - it's a Christmas miracle!!

I'm excited. Oh man. I am FLIPPING OUT with excitement. And not just because tomorrow is Actual Christmas aka Jacki Trew's Favourite Day Of The Year, Followed Closely By Wentworth Miller's Birthday, but also because the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show is on tonight, and the clothes they make for that parade can only be described as um, totally freakin' awesome.
Anyway.
Speaking of Christmas, a very talented young man by the name of Tym Yee and I have started a wordpress blog entitled Bower Bird and Fox - and the first issue is all about this merry, merry season. Check it out. Tym writes with elegance and poise about his favourite part of the day, and I...well, I start off okay, but somehow end up ranting about Keeping Up With The Kardashians.
Go figure.
Still, I think you'll enjoy it. And if you don't, that's only because you're an idiot.

Hospital Visit: Take 2

So, yesterday - and as part of my current world tour, Jacki Trew: A Showcase Of Clumsiness And Uncoordination - my left hand got into a fight with a wire coathanger and most definitely did not win.
So yeah. I had asked for a new watch for Christmas, but I guess Santa deduced that all I really wanted was 5 stitches and a prescription for antibiotics, cause that's what I got.
Sigh.
That Santa.
What an asshole.
Still, it was totally worth it, since Catherine was the only one home who could drive me up to North Shore Hospital, and I'm pretty sure our sisterly antics were the highlight of the day for most of the emergency staff. I mean, we were certainly more entertaining than this woman in front of me who'd had half her face eaten off by a dog. Although I suppose it's hard to be funny when your tear ducts are being replaced with plastic tubing.
Anyway, my greatest suspicion confirmed: hospital nurses do love playing Would You Rather...? as much as I do. And just for future reference, they also love Jonas Brother imitations, hearing me talk about why Wentworth Miller is the most perfect male in existance, and participating in bets over how many sutures I'll end up needing.

Haha. Hospitals are awesome.

So when we weren't playing thumb wars or singing SOS or telling stories that had the nurses in stitches (Haha, get it? Had them in stitches? See, it's funny, because they were in stitches from laughing so much, and I was in stitches because I am an idiot who gets physical with coathangers. Awesome), Catherine and I toyed with the idea of stealing hospital supplies and giving them to our friends for Christmas. I won't say whether or not we actually did it. I guess you'll just have to wait until you unwrap your disposable gown and gauze bandages on friday morning to find out.
And now, in conclusion - just because I know you all want it but for some reason always pretend like you don't - here is my favourite hospital moment:

Nurse Alison: Okay, I'm gonna start injecting the local anasthetic now. It might hurt a little, so try to distract yourself.
Jacki: (lying on bed) Right on. Let's play Would You Rather. Catherine, would you rather eat the cat or the dog, or have Mum, Dad and I all die? And if so, which would you eat, the cat or the dog?
Nurse Alison: (trying not to laugh) Is she serious?
Catherine: (To Nurse Alison) Yeah, and I have to live with her. (To me) I'd eat the cat.
Jacki: Oh my gosh that's so mean.
Catherine: You asked!
Jacki: You could have refused to answer!
Catherine: Let's just change the subject.
Jacki: Fine. Hey, you guys know Braille? Like, how blind people read, with the bumps?
Catherine And Nurse Alison: Yeah.
Jacki: Okay so guess how the guy who invented it became blind? His father owned this company that made leather wallets, and they sewed them with these really thick leather needles, and the way he became blind was that he accidentally stabbed himself in the eye with one of the needles. Oh my gosh.
Catherine: That's really gross.
Jacki: And his name...was John Braille. No okay, I just made that up.
Catherine: I thought so.
Jacki: Only the name part! The rest of it was true.
Catherine: Yeah right.
Jacki: No seriously. Wikipedia that shit. You'll see.
Catherine: Uh huh. I'll make sure to do that.
(Massive Pause)
Jacki: I made a Wikipedia page about myself once.
Catherine: Oh my God.
Nurse Allison: (Still fighting the urge to laugh)
Jacki: Yeah, they deleted it though. I guess nobody wanted to know about Jacki Trew.
Catherine: I can't imagine why not.
Jacki: I could try again.
Catherine: Yeah, you could make it all about the ways you maim yourself.
Jacki: Totally! Let's see, there's this (motioning to hand), and there's the time I cut my arm open on a fence...
Catherine: Don't forget the time you tripped over a dog.
Nurse Alison: (Laughing) You two are idiots! Okay sit tight for a minute, I'm just going to write your prescription. (Leaves the room)
Catherine: Whatever.
Jacki: I know, what is she talking about?
Catherine: We're awesome.
Jacki: Totally.
(Pause)
Jacki: Wanna steal some shit?

Ah, I've just realised that I'm in need of a job. It's a week til Christmas and I have no money. I have less than no money - I got a letter the other week informing me that I actually owe the bank 10 dollars. No joke. And I don't even own a credit card! Who knew you could go into debt on a savings account?
I'm an idiot.
Still, how about it, Australian Business Owners? I may be an idiot, but I've read all the Twilight books and I make a mean cuppaccino. If that doesn't spell 'employable', then I don't know what does. So please, hire me. Otherwise everyone I know will be recieving a hug for Christmas.

I haven't really talked about the FBI fashion parade yet, but a couple of people have been asking, so I guess I'll do it now.
Happy?
The first word that comes to mind is awesome. It was awesome. How awesome? I'll tell you - pretty flippin'. It was pretty flippin' awesome. You wouldn't think that having to get up at 7 in the morning, freaking out over the fact that you have no tampons left, running across the road to buy some only to get back and realise you have been locked out of the house, having to climb through a window and then finally getting back inside in time to call a cab to take you to The Ivy where you will spend the next 8 hours in a state of near-constant panic that everyone will hate your designs and the whole year of study will have been worth nothing would equate to a good time, but it really really does.

The world works in mysterious ways.

So yeah, pretty flippin' awesome. Despite the fact that Wentworth Miller didn't turn up to scout a costume designer for his next film, nor did I trip and fall off the runway into Alex Perry's lap like I was secretly-only-not-so-secretly hoping to.
Ah, well. You win some, you lose some.
Anyway, the clothes. I don't have any photos yet, so you'll all just have to use your imaginations to picture what I made - and please, be generous. Make me awesome. Eventually you'll see photos and I'll go back to being mediocre, but for now I think I'll enjoy being hypothetically fantastic.
Umm, okay. Now that I've re-read that last sentence, I'm not so sure it actually makes sense. Again, just use your imaginations.
So like I said, the whole thing was pretty great. And as with all events that I consider great, I have compiled a 'Top 5 Moments' list. Enjoy:

5. Our principle's inspiring speech at the 10AM parade briefing
"I know I've said this before, but you really have been the best group of students we've ever had at FBI; you're all so mature and co-operative and creative. And today is your final day - so don't blow it!"
4. Steaming our clothes in a pitch-black hallway backstage
Mainly because the steamer leaked all over one of my skirts, bringing me to a pretty comical stage of near-hysteria. And also because the steam smelt like pot.
3. All my clothes, accessories and shoes fitting the models perfectly
That kind of relief is better than crack.
2. Having just enough spare time to form a comedic Lady GaGa cover-band with Karina
Lady HaHa - performing soon on the corner of a deserted street near you!

And finally...
1. The after-party
Because teachers, drinking and The Ivy swimming pool is always a fun combination.

Wow! How The F*** Old Is Flanders???

Oh, the rain has finally arrived!
Bliss.
Today it was hot, and I went to Issy's house for a visit. Like around three Sundays ago, when it was also hot, and I went to Issy's house for a visit. My conclusion? The road to Issy's house is a portal into another dimension. And that dimension is called The Sun.

So apart from The Pacific Highway becoming a gateway to inter-galactic travel, there were a few other crazy heat-related things about today. The first is that my Mum wouldn't let me turn the air conditioning on. I mean. What? I get that my Mum is kind of crazy (she produced me, after all), but that is just plain insanity. Air-conditioning was INVENTED with days like today in mind. Do you think, when whoever-it-was-that-invented-the-air-conditioner came up with that concept, he or she meant it for decorative purposes? NO! NO! AIR CONDITIONERS ARE MEANT TO BE USED! Just in case you need any further convincing, here is my Mother's line of reasoning:

- It makes a loud noise
- It's not that hot
- It costs money to run the air conditioner

And here is my rebuttal:

- "It makes a loud noise?" I'm not even going to dignify that with a response
- Yes, it was that hot. I think my armpit hairs actually melted
- Well, yes, I suppose it does cost money to run the air conditioner. But it costs more to call for an ambulance when your daughter collapses from heat exhaustion on the kitchen floor.

Check and mate.
The other crazy thing was that despite all my whinging and moaning about the sudden heatwave, I decided to have a hamburger for dinner.
Ew. I know. Ew.
I don't usually eat hamburgers at all, but I was craving one from the fish and chip shop in Lane Cove - you know, the one owned by that guy who looks like a greasy 40-year-old version of Jack from Home and Away? It's the only place I ever order burgers from, because they are simply amazing. Or at least, they used to be; apparently the fish and chip shop people have quit using mince beef and are now making their burgers out of pure cancer.
Oh, my gosh.
I have never felt so sick in my life - whatever little stomach lining I had left after drinking all that Red Bull is now gone. Remember that scene from Alien VS Predator, where the aliens impregenate all those women, and their stomachs get all huge and distended, and then the baby aliens burst through their skin and kill them? I'm pretty sure if I were locked in a room with those women right now, they would be the ones pointing and laughing at me.

That whole sentence I just wrote, about the aliens and predators and mothers and baby aliens? That was terribly constructed. I apologise. I don't know whether it's because I've been out of school for 2 years, because I watch too much American TV, or just because I'm an idiot, but my English has been way off lately. Earlier I was watching The Simpsons with my sister, and the following question came out of my mouth:

Jacki: Wow! How the f*** old is Flanders?

I am not even kidding. That is the exact wording I used. How the f*** old is Flanders? Somehow, that made sense in my head. I'm pretty sure Shakespeare just rolled over in his grave.

Trash The Dress

Wow, 3 posts in 3 days. I'm on a role. I'm also in a little bit of a food coma. Mmm, food coma - my favourite type of unconciousness.

So anyway, apparently there is this new trend (I only just learned about it) called Trash The Dress, where recent brides completely destroy their wedding gowns. Like, they tear them up or set them on fire, or chuck them into pools or wear them while playing marathon rounds of paintball.

...

I don't get it. Still, I think I will trash my own dress by having one of those WWE wrestlers wear it during a fight. When I get married. If I get married. And even if I don't get married, I'll just pay a wrestler to wear a wedding dress on TV. Why not? Hey, it's not like I'll have a husband to tell me I'm insane and stop me.

Speaking of weddings, what is the deal with everyone I know getting engaged? By 'everyone I know' what I really mean is 'like 2 people I know and then a bunch of people I've just heard of', but you get the picture. Everyone is getting married! It makes me feel a little nervous. And lonely. And like I should probably start planning my own wedding. Check it, I've already picked out my invitations:

Haha. Gold. And classy too, no? I'm also going to have a Journey coverband, BBQ shapes, and Prison Break playing on a big screen at the reception. Personally, I think the 'traditional wedding' theme is kind of overdone, so I've decided to go with 'festival of insanity' instead.

And you're all invited!

Hey, so now that all my college work is finished, I've found I have way more time to acknowledge and ponder the numerous and seemingly insane thoughts that pop into my head. Like, if you chew gum really vigorously, does it count as exercise?
I say it does.
Also, who started the rumour that laughing gives you great stomach muscles? Huh? I wanna know, because I need to hunt them down and kick them in the crotch. I laugh. I laugh at everything. The only thing I do more than laugh is talk. And the only thing I do more than talk is breathe. And the only thing I do more than breathe is love Wentworth Miller.
So where are my great stomach muscles? I'd love to know. They're either non-existant, or hiding under my fat-pack. I'm not really sure what's worse.
The main thing that's had me thinking today, though, is why a great show like Prison Break was cancelled after only 4 seasons, but crap like The Beverly Hillbillies lasted for 9 years. I mean, how good can a show with the word 'hillbillies' in the title really be? TV with Wentworth Miller on the other hand, that I could watch forever. Not that I'm biased or anything.
Well, maybe a little bit. Whatever.

I've just discovered, one thing that's really strange about me (I mean, aside from my obsession with crap TV, the fact that I laugh at jokes that are offensive to women, the whole liking-everything-banana-flavoured-but-hating-actual-bananas thing, and I guess my personality in general) is that I've spent most of my life thinking Liv Tyler was Australian. What? Why? Why? Why would I think that? She doesn't sound Australian. I've never seen her in Australia. Her dad is Steven Tyler, and I knew he wasn't Australian, so... I suppose I'm just an idiot. Yes, that would explain alot. Like why I would reveal to my college teacher Celyna that I had secretly given her the nickname "King Kong Quisha".
Yes, I really did that. Gold.

I'm Back Babydoll!!

I've been a pretty absent blogger lately, which I don't feel good about, because if you ask me, 'Absent Blogger' is the worst kind of blogger out there. If I dedicate myself to a blog, I want the author to be updating at least 5 times a week. I mean it - strap that laptop to your chest if you have to, just get it done. 1 post every fortnight doesn't cut it.
So yeah, I suck. Sorry about that.
But hello world, I hope you're ready for 8 weeks of insatiable online ranting because I'M ON HOLIDAYS!
Holidays holidays holidays!
I'M ON HOLIDAYS!!!
Hey did I mention to you guys that I'm on holidays? I did? Did I? Well, just in case, here's a reminder:

I'M ON HOLIDAYS!!!!

I'M ON HOLIDAYS!!!!

I'M ON HOLIDAYS!!!!

Wow. Yep. I am excited. I think it's because these holidays seem so much sweeter than any other I've ever had - Mainly because it means my collection for college is finally done and dusted, but also because at the end of them my sister is moving out, thus surrendering the entire top storey of our house to my control.

Oh yeah. My parents are so not excited about that.

Anyway.

I don't know if this is just because I've got nothing else to do (oh how sweet it is to say those words), or because I have some weird fixation with killing my own brain cells, but I just got done watching a whole bunch of Simple Life episodes. Yes, and I mean Simple Life. As in The Simple Life. As in That Brain-Cell-Killing Reality Shit Starring Paris Hilton And Nicole Richie. This show is like the jellybean of television. You know what I'm talking about? If you're eating jellybeans, the first 2 or 3 or 4 are fantastic. They're sugary, they're chewy, they're bean-shaped...sensational. But eating a whole bag in one sitting makes you feel pretty sick. Like you need to either vomit or wash your face - but you can't decide which one to do first, so you end up puking into a soap dish. Right?
And just for the record, I have never puked into a soap dish. I'm just saying.

So now I'm watching The Hangover. Yeah. Big TV day for me. I am living the high life, alright.
What was I saying again? Oh yeah, The Hangover. Anybody seen it? It's pretty darn great. The best part is...oh, I can't choose. There are too many best parts. See? That's how good this movie is - the whole thing is the best part. If I had to pick one, I'd probably say...maybe the bit where they get mauled by a tiger. Or any scene where Bradley Cooper is shirtless.
Damn, they should have combined those two. Half-Naked Bradley Cooper getting mauled by a tiger sounds weirdly hot to me. Oh, I am a strange one. But yeah, The Hangover is awesome. Don't miss it.

Speaking of things that are awesome and not to be missed, Christmas is coming up. Did you guys know that? Holy balls did it sneak up on me this year. Not that I'm complaining - anyone who knows anything knows that Christmas is by far my favourite day of the year. Wentworth Miller's Birthday is a close second (I mean who doesn't love any excuse to bake a future-husband-shaped-cake?), but Christmas takes the gold. So anyway, what do you guys want? I'm making my shopping list now. Chocolates? Jewellery? A scented candle? My promise to keep blogging at least once a day for the rest of eternity? Let me know.
Gifts are tricky. It's hard to keep buying for the same people year after year. Especially for my mother:

Mum: I'm going shopping - what do you want for Christmas?
Jacki: I would like to appear as a guest on The Ellen Degeneres Show, please.
Mum: (pause) How about a wallet?

Well, maybe for my birthday.
Anyway, I'll make it easy for you guys and say there's no need to get me anything. Unless your name is Wentworth Miller - then I would like a platinum engagement ring. And if you could give it to me while we are both appearing as joint guests on The Ellen Degeneres Show, that would be fantastic. Thanks.

I don't have much time to blog about this, but I implore you all to turn your TVs to channel 7Two at exactly 10:10 this evening - because Wrong Turn is playing.
If you've been friends with me for at least the last 5 or 6 years, or you attended my 14th birthday party, or your name is Beth Docker, then you have probably already seen this movie. At the very least, you will have heard me talking about it. So you can tune out.
As for the rest of you, here's the lowdown:
Hot guys + hot girls + broken down car + inbred mutants living in the woods = 2 hours of mindless murder. And its totally flippin' hilarious. That sounds weird, but trust me; even if you're not a freak heartless de-sensitised robot trapped in the body of a teenage girl, you will find this movie funny.
I mean first of all, inbred mutants. I'm pretty sure there is no funnier combination of two words in the history of the English language than that. And second of all, one of the characters is a toothless gas-station attendant. Who drinks strawberry milk. And ends up being friends with the mutants.
I'm not even kidding. I don't think I need to keep going - really, this movie sells itself.