JUNK RUNTAH

Award Worthy Oscar Party Tips Guest Post

Can you believe it is almost a week until the Oscars? Even though Ive been howling about Leonardo DiCaprio for what feels like months, were just around the corner from seeing if he can seal the deal with Oscar. Which would, of course, be amazing. Like many blogs around here, it is going to be all about the Oscars for the next few days - so do grin and bear it. However, I have a guest post on here from Morgan Gray, who shares her tips on what makes an Oscar party awesome. Really makes me want to throw one myself! So here you go -

My friends and I trade around who gets to host, and this year its my turn—and I couldnt be more excited! I have a lot of ideas to make for a great party.


Food and Beverages
When it comes to the food and drinks—one of the major parts of any party, especially an Oscars party—I like to put in a lot of effort and run with a theme. For example, last year when Silver Linings Playbook was up for awards, I made mini Philly cheese steak sandwiches to bring to my friend’s potluck party. This year, Im going to make Nebraska the theme, so Ill be making hors doeuvres like cornbread, mini chicken-fried steaks, and mashed potatoes and corn in Mid-West style.



The beverages are also key. This is another great place to make a theme run, but this year, I want to give my guests a lot of options. Thus, what Ive decided to do is put together a bar they can run themselves and make their own drinks! I came across this fun infographic from RedEnvelope and it’s a good starting place. The drink of choice this year is the San Francisco Cocktail for Blue Jasmine (Im a sucker for anything Woody Allen), but I also found a list of “classic Oscars drinks.” Ill ask people to bring a bottle or two of alcohol to make it fair for everyone, less expensive for me, and fun to let people take what they want home afterward!


Décor
I absolutely love dec-ing out my place for any party, but the Oscars give us a chance to go full-out. To make my guests feel extra-special, Im going to make up some Hollywood Stars for them with their names on them and hang them around (Im bracing myself in advance for the selfies). Ill also cut out the Hollywood sign from white paper and paste it on a black sheet with lots of star confetti to add a glimmering effect. The tablecloths will all be glittery black, with white- and gold-colored plates and plasticware to make everything look especially classic and clean-cut.


Since Im having friends with children come this year, Ive decided not to do a red carpet because I dont want the kids tripping on it. So what Ive decided to do instead—and Ive given myself a pre-emptive pat on the back for this—is bake a large batch of red velvet cupcakes instead! Why buy a cheap streamer-like carpet from the party store when you can make tasty treats that everyone will enjoy so much more?


Costumes
What weve done in years past is have the traditional Oscars ballots, where everyone votes for the films they think will win different awards. This has always done well (the winner normally gets a nice bottle of wine or a small cake), but Ive decided to take it one step further this year. Were going to have a costume party! Having the children come is what inspired this idea, but then I figured—why wouldnt my friends want to dress up too? Im going to ask that my guests come dressed in some fashion for their choice of Best Picture (my friend Dave is going to dress as Christian Bales character from American Hustle) and that can count as extra points in the ballot race. I think this one will work very well this year!

Throwing a party can be stressful for sure, especially when theres pressure to keep up with the great parties in the past. However, with some tried-and-true tricks, some new ideas to keep things fresh, and a lot of black cloth and glitter, you can be sure to have a great Oscars party!

Do you have any ideas for an Oscar themed party? Leave a comment and with all these ideas, someone could have the best Oscar party ever!

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Australia Warning This Post Is Almost As Long As The Film

Its May and things are going from good to better, to bad to worse, to great, to alrightish-once-Ive-had-this-cup-of-tea-and-oh-is-that-a-muffin? to just life. I have far too many things to say in one post, so I will attempt to whittle them down. (I have failed to do any real whittling. More wittering that whittling, really. Sorry.)

Australia flew by in a flurry of dismal attempts to be upgraded on planes, gingham tents in garages, small, energetic dogs, beaches, kangaroos, sunsets, beer, sushi, birthdays and suspended vegetarianism. It was marvellous. My impulse when attempting to describe three weeks of holiday in a few sentences is to launch into detailed descriptions of the weather. I am going to resist, though, and try and tell you what the holiday itself was actually like. I will aim for brevity. (Again, FAIL.)

There were four of us visiting - Ben, his Mum, his Dad and me. Laura (Bens sister) and her partner Rob live in a wooden floored house in the suburbs of Melbourne. Ben and I stayed in a delightfully-constructed gingham gazebo in the garage. (However, unlike any that I have seen, this garage was free of dusty boxes of crap, which made the experience considerably more pleasant for us.) Some days Laura and Rob were working, so we all took ourselves off on adventures around Melbourne. I hadnt realized quite how nice a city Melbourne would be. I have been to Sydney, Cairns, Brisbane and Darwin, and I must say I preferred Melbourne to all those places. It seems small and friendly, whilst also managing to be lively and a bit glamorous. What a clever balance to strike. At first I was a bit suspicious of all the happy, trendy people in the bars and cafés. It all seemed a little too perfect. Laughing trendily and sipping at excellent wine, they all had a joie de vivre that confused me. It seemed odd to me that nobody was screaming at their children or swearing at passers-by. Their skin was tanned, and not at all the shade of grey to which I have become accustomed. The sun was out, and yet all the men appeared still to be wearing their tops, and none of them were proudly sporting third degree burns. It was baffling.

I quickly found that, even without these simple home comforts, I felt pretty relaxed in Melbourne. Ben and I traipsed about taking pictures of the amazing graffiti in the lanes, and went to the achingly cool Until Never gallery. We did this on our own, so as not to bore his parents and sister with our joint love of street art, but there were plenty of family trips as well. We spent a few nights on Phillip Island, where we watched the penguins on their twilight journey from the sea to their hillside nests. We sat on the beach with our binoculars, peering at the little birds as they huddled together and ran across the sand. The following day we went to a wildlife reserve. By that point I had started to feel a little interesting-animaled out (we had seen some extremely soporific koalas that day), so trailed into the wildlife reserve without a great degree of enthusiasm. I was wrong, though, as it turned out to be brilliant.

Kangaroos and wallabies boinged freely about, eagerly nibbling the feed we had been given to offer them. At first I found the kangaroos inexplicably scary. I think it was the way that they could be right over there, looking idly at a piece of grass and contemplating life, then suddenly, at the merest rustle of a paper bag, they would have bounced over in a single, terrifying leap, nosing into your hands and slapping their great tails in the dust. I did a lot of hiding behind Bens arm, until he managed to shake me off and I was on my own, nervously being eyed by ten hungry marsupials. They paled, though, in comparison to the emus, who were also freely stalking the sixty acre park. Huge, ungainly things, I couldnt help but interpret their cold stare as that of a gangster who is planning to wreak some terrible revenge on you, but who will psychologically torment you first by silently standing behind you while you are warily feeding kangaroos. Walking through the mob of emus (that is the actual collective noun, I looked it up) all I could think was I CANNOT OUT RUN THEM. THERE IS NOWHERE TO HIDE. Ben fed one, and it nearly snapped his hand off. I crept back to the kangaroos, who suddenly seemed like adorable newborn kittens in comparison.

My birthday was lovely. Ben made french toast for breakfast, complete with maple syrup, strawberries and cream, and delicious coffee. The rest of the family went off belt shopping, while Ben and I caught the tram into town, and wandered about, happily going to galleries and sipping Champagne. We saw some of the most amazing photography Ive ever seen, an exhibition called On The Quiet Water by Yang Yongliang. (The photos on the website do not do justice to the incredible power of his work. It is somehow at once peaceful and apocalyptic. He combines ancient and modern methods to create awe-inspiring, delicate pieces that held us enraptured as we walked around.) After a delicious day, we needed to go back to Lauras, to meet up with the family, have a small slice of the lemon cake Ben had made for me the previous day, and go out for dinner.

We walked through Flinders Street station, and at once heard the telltale sounds of a group of beatboxers and rappers, otherwise known as a cipher. We watched for a bit, and then, after a bit of nudging from me, Ben joined in, energetically adding his own beatbox sounds to the group. I stood at the side, took pictures and grinned, wishing for the millionth time that I too could magically beatbox without actually having to do the hours of practice it would take for me to be any good.

Eventually we caught the train back, and after a quick turnaround and a bit of gift giving/receiving, we walked along the road to a lovely Japanese restaurant, where we devoured miso soup and edamame, after which they brought out three of those wooden boats piled high with sushi and sashimi. It was amazing, and by the time the taxi cam to whisk us into the city I was heady with sushi delirium.

Ben had found a place called Bennetts Lane Jazz Club, at which was performing a man called Mr Percival. We hadnt heard of him before, but the descriptions on the site of his use of loop pedals and vocal dexterity attracted us. We were not disappointed. As soon as he started his set it was clear just how wonderful his voice was, smooth and effortless. He started by looping the backing to Aint No Sunshine, building it up with harmonies on top of harmonies. By the time he came in with the first line, we had been waiting in exquisite agony and so burst into applause. He continued like this, using three separate microphones and connected to three pedals, recording and playing back his voice as he leapt across the stage to manipulate the sounds. The most impressive thing, though, was that while he was doing all this, he was chatting with the audience, merrily inviting our participation and jokily making everyone feel completely relaxed. It was beautiful, but also seemed that we were witnessing myriad feats of engineering, using the technology to eliminate any need for anyone else to accompany him.

All throughout the first set, Ben and I were on the edges of our seats. Ben uses his loop pedal a lot in his work, and I love layering up vocals on my tracks, so we were both in awe of Mr Percival as he played with the pedals, and his voice, so expertly. It was no surprise then, I suppose, that in the second set, when Mr Percival was singing Superstition and asked whether anyone wanted to come and sing, I scrambled to my feet and practically bit the microphone out of his hand. Laura shouted out that it was my birthday, so after that he made a few more references to me. Later on, he decided to get a man up on stage, and selected Ben (as the Birthday Girls boyfriend), who he seated on stage and forced to sing, while Mr Percival came to where I was sitting and began dancing with me. Ben sat, eyes squeezed shut, singing, until he had clearly had enough, and started to beatbox. Mr Percivals head whipped around, and he promptly threw me aside from the ballroom pose in which he was holding me and leapt up on stage.

They did a duet for the next few songs, and the audience couldnt believe it. Ben is an amazing beatboxer, and not unused to being up on stage, so together they whipped up everyone in the room into a voice-wizardry-induced frenzy.

After the show we chatted to him, and he and Ben gazed into one anothers eyes, clearly each a bit in love with the other. I smiled, and tried to pretend that I didnt mind that Ben had totally stolen my thunder ON MY BIRTHDAY. I was secretly just really, really proud. Then we all went drinking.

It was a bloody marvellous birthday, all in all.

Actually, it was a bloody marvellous trip. I hated the flights as much as I always hate flights ("Ben, wake up. Wake up. My feet have turned into bear feet. Ive got paws! Wake up!") but other than that I loved all of it. We ate in wonderful restaurants and saw some excellent comedy (Tim Minchin, marry me). I developed an allergic reaction to guide book speak ("browse the enchanting language of the enticing tourist information pamphlets, carefully crafted by people who think youre a moron to provide you and your family with an unforgettable experience that will transform you into people trying to work out the best way to end your own lives using a copy of The Lonely Planet"). I loved spending time with Ben and his family, and I love Melbourne.

Manchester had become green in the time wed been away. Rainy, yes, but greener. Since being back I have found a nice little café job in the Craft and Design Centre, have a few gigs, including doing some Guerilla Busking this Friday. Ben and I are writing a proposal for a commission about words and music, which, if we manage to win it, would be shown at the Summer Sundae Weekender festival in Leicester. I am moving into Bens house soon, as soon as there is room for my clothes, computer and terrifying costume jewellery collection.

Australia was brilliant, but I found myself glad to be back. Manchester is becoming home now.

I have to go and lie down now, after this epic post. Oh, and also because I have a cold so I need to go and moan quietly to myself whilst trying to learn words and come up with a groundbreaking idea for a commission proposal. Sniff.

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