Congratulations, my Soundwaves!

You my babies deserved all the awards, but three is not shabby at all.

Also Uncle Murray. Like you need anymore tokens of your awesomeness though? Really.

That's the most important thing I have to say. It's not what anyone wants to hear from me at the moment, I am well aware of that. But I'd like to keep some things to myself right now. It's rare... it's new, and it's the new standard. I appreciate the concern, but please don't try to find your way in. I need time with myself and my family if anything is going to improve.

Things are okay. Up and down, but getting steadily better. Today is 12 days, and I am proud of that - it's harder than you can imagine for some of us. My brothers come and see me a lot, and my sisters when they can. My Mum stays close. We have another little Laine (a Cahill model, limited edition) coming in a few days and I am excited for her arrival. I have Baby Dior shoes for her. I'm having a tea party with my best friends sometime soon, and I have a new plushy pet. An elephant, he is fat and named Chunk, and stuffed with lots of love. I'm planning a trip to Japan and spending Christmas with my family and my best friend, on the beach. I'd rather focus on the up than the down.

I have the best friends and family in the world and I don't know what I'd do without them. You know who you are... and thank you. We'll all get through this.

To my family:

I’m sorry I didn’t turn out how you had hoped. I’m sorry I taught you things you had no business knowing. I’m sorry I called you a bitch. I’m sorry I let you down. I’m sorry I played favourites and put you against one another. I’m sorry I slept with your roommate. I’m sorry I tried to send you back, more than once. I’m sorry I don’t know your kids. I’m sorry for never being good enough for you. I’m sorry for being a shitty role model. I’m sorry I ruined tequila for you. I’m sorry I laughed when you panicked over exams. I’m sorry I can’t come back. I’m sorry for the broken bottles. I’m sorry for screwing up. I’m sorry for getting lost out here. I’m sorry I ruined our vacation. I’m sorry for picking on you endlessly. I’m sorry I don’t know you better. I’m sorry for feeding your goldfish to the wallaby. I’m sorry I stole your favourite pants. I’m sorry for missing your graduation. I’m sorry I never had one myself. I’m sorry for getting drunk at your wedding. I’m sorry I never listened. I’m sorry I don’t know you better, either. I’m sorry I can’t support you in this. I’m sorry I made you cry. I’m sorry I let you down, too. I’m sorry I lied. I’m sorry I changed.

Someday, I hope I can make it up to you. I love you, all of you.

Love,
Aubrey

and then my life became an open book.

Has everyone been following the swim competition? Saturday I dropped seven seconds on my relay time, and thus lost a slot on the winning team's roster. I am not happy with myself over this, and have been training even harder this week to improve come my events on Wednesday, Friday and Saturday. No one can be able to say I didn't give it all I've got, regardless of what happens, and I think that's more important than winning. Well, at least it's almost as important as winning.

But more importantly, my older brother, producer and songwriter extraordinnaire, has finally leaked some of his own music. Go HERE, and please send him messages telling him how perfect it is. At least one of the songs succeeded in bringing me to tears.

Jayda is finally here. She came in Sunday morning, smelling of beer and maple syrup and other Canadian goodyness, and I feel bad that I am sort of neglecting her to train. She understands though, and keeps my bed warm for when I return home after dark, and doesn't mind that my hair is cracking and stinky from the chlorine. Speaking of my hair, I cut it - bangs, do we like? And speaking of Jayda, I suppose now is as good a time as any to make the official announcement: we have signed with MTV for a 12 episode look into our lives, which will begin filming April 3rd, when Jay and I step off the plane from Sydney to Los Angeles. We will return to our bugged apartment in Jay's bugged car, and spend the next... who knows how long, in front of the cameras. I am not sure what the premise of this is going to be other than us being us; Jayda in the studio and touring, myself training for swim and reading scripts, shooting, who knows what else, and the two of us being our utterly ridiculous selves. Perhaps my brothers will come round or I will visit them, perhaps Jayda's will come round or we'll take a trip to Canada, maybe some friends of ours will drop by - I really have no idea what will be going on, but it's Jayda and myself so I can promise it'll be entertaining if nothing else.

And now, more photos. I know the majority of my hits are Soundwave fans, and I can respect that. Here are some Alfie photos to wet your whistles (or panties, whichever), and some of the rest of us, just for the hell of it.

Alfred, my gangster.
(Don't call him Alfred, only I can get away with that.)

Alyse, one of the secret Laines. Don't stalk her, please. She's going to kill me for posting this.

What can I say, I am a babe. A friend of mine sent me this and I was like, "Damn, I am smokin'!"

I love Buggy. He doesn't like me much lately, but I still love him the squishyest. And is he not perfect? He is perfect.

My favourites ever, completely smashed. In case you couldn't tell...