i have an avocado problem.

The more things change, the more they stay the same.
Life... always goes on.


Melbourne with the GypsyLaine. Reds are up for the Grand Final. Hope they kick some Victorian ass.
Awesome seats. Thanks, Whit.
Back home quick. End of teenager celebrations soon. No details here.
Bug reads this. Bug will be surprised.
Bug WILL BE SURPRISED.


Happy, somehow. Sane, somehow.
I love Julian Laine. I love blueberries. That's pretty much it.

there's no place like home.

I, however, firmly believe that Oz trumps Kansas, or anything else America has to offer.

There still hasn't been a chance to catch up on sleep, but at least I've figured out what time it is where I'm at. I should be fast asleep like the rest of Australia, but my body still feels like it's in America, and it's the wrong end of the morning - I should be up and at it. In Europe, it's well into the evening and I should also be up and at it. So despite what my Mum wants me to do, I am up and at it.

At least I am not the only Laine child who doesn't sleep. Most of us are up and at it, those of us who are here. I hear Rockband on down the hall, I suppose that means everyone is up. Everyone except Mum, and maybe Alyse. She is probably asleep on the couch down there, somehow blocking out the boys being rowdy. I wonder which one of them is trying to sing? I wonder when someone will pay Asher to play this game? Kid is epic, and hey... he's one of us. He's got to be famous for something, right?

This is only the tip of the iceberg. Friday we go around the gulf to whichever beach Mum has chosen this time, and Friday, all 500 of us will be together again: aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, in-laws, and friends. Seriously, a hell of a lot of people. I love our family Christmases, for as long as I can remember we've done it like this: rent house on beach. Head to house the weekend before Christmas. Decorate in a mad whirl. Celebrate Christmas on beach. Food, beer, cricket and music, until the sun is long gone and someone passes out. As soon as someone passes out (or nearly falls into the fire, or tries to get the babies drunk, or throws up in sight of Mum), Mum calls an end to it and we all go to bed. So we try to stay on our best drunken behavior. Try.

On top of Christmas, we have other celebrations to attend to. My niece is turning 5 next Wednesday, and my littlest brother will be a teenager two days into the new year. Where has the time gone?

It's probably a good thing said little brother just burst into the room, ranting about Alfie's lack of vocal skills (...what?) and demanding I come join his band before his scores go to waste, because I would spend the rest of the night rambling and reminiscing. But who am I to deny our littlest, and spoiledest, what he wants? He's going to make tiger toast if I comply - how can I say no to that?

I never want to leave this again. Burn the ruby slippers, I refuse to depart.

it's a new day, it's a new dawn, it's a new life.

And I'm feelin' good.

I am angry that blogspot will not let me embed this beautiful video of my brothers. Search it on youtube; watch it live. Unbeatable.

Three hours from Greece. Two weeks from home. Rove, Gma, Christmas specials with my brothers and a proper fucking meatpie. All the carmello koaloas we can stand, Julian Jonsson. Everyone under one roof - well, three rooves, but all together. Christmas on the beach; it's been too long. California beaches just don't cut it. Awesomeness awaits.

Awesome happenings will awesome. Just you wait.

The Empire Strikes Back, again. 1231. Beware.

I'm lucky I have a big family. If I didn't, I wouldn't have anyone I can trust.

My brother is home. His shows are sold out, but if you haven't gotten tickets I promise you standing outside the venues to catch the sounds that seep through the walls will be worth it. He hasn't shown me everything - I hate surprises and he makes me wait for them regardless - but 22 and a half years has taught me that August Laine is a magical creature. 22 and a half years has taught me that he always saves the best for last, and I am going to be blown away by what he is keeping under wraps. You're all going to be amazed.

Adelaide and Sydney, you should count yourselves lucky.

There is a lot happening in the near future. My holiday season has fallen in line with that of the world at large, and I will be work work working until but a few days before Christmas. Los Angeles is coming next week, errands need to be run and Thanksgiving is doing nothing but getting in the way - I've never really celebrated, it's another one of those North America exclusive holidays I usually forget about until I head to the shops for cigarettes and shoes and realize everything is closed. I'll remember this year, and the day off will be appreciated. It will be one of a very few. Interviews, travelling, appearances, premieres - I've never been a part of something as big as `Mamma Mia` is projected to be, and I've never had a role so integral to the plot. A lead, if you will. I am important to this mess of publicity, and I plan to do the best I can. It's the least I can do - this movie may have been the only thing keeping me in business.

Someday I will do like Alfie's myspace, and answer a bunch of questions on here. Today isn't that day, but feel free to send them over.

It's not perfect, but I wouldn't trade my life for anyone elses.

--

And although it's a week late (on here, I DID call on time), happy birthday to my wonderful, perfect, beautiful, majestic, perfect, superiffic Mummy. No one will believe you're as young as you are, but you still say you're too old... silly lady. I won't give a number. You're amazing and I love you to squishy bits, more than you'll ever know. I miss you - see you in a few days. Tomorrow, I suppose, if we're being technical.

xoxo
Aubrey

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.

The Festival of Boris isn't soon enough, so the impatient Naughty Sorceress is throwing a party of her own. She's in Sydney tonight, and has brought some friends with her.

I hear Sneaky Pete is invited. Don't tell.

Encore!

the answer is no comment.

Tonight there is a party at Crazyhorse. If you're not on The List you're not getting in, unless you're a Scary Monster (or Super Creep). Or a Superhero. We make exceptions for those sorts.

Strippers ahoy!

Tour cannot come soon enough. I am chaperoning my brother around the country, although it's long since been proven that he is the one doing most of the chaperoning. We have Big Plans and Crazy Ideas. Watch this space for Top Secret Information, about Top Secret Things. Do we ever let you down?

We debuted on MTV last night. MTVAus is picking us up for the summer, although I know you've already ripped and posted the first episode on the Soundwave boards. Be happy.

I am happy. I think.




I lied: Comment.

My brother is not your precious kitten, Perez. Stop drawing hearts around his crotch, he is not interested. And feel free to - as my darlings on ONTD would say - DIAF.

Everyone is still breathing, isn't that the important thing?

Now that it's already been spread all over the internet, I may as well put some of my music up officially. It's not ready, but most of you've heard it all anyway. Two tracks up here didn't get leaked, I am putting them here as a gift to those who've respected our wishes and resisted the temptation to steal what we didn't put out. All of this is for you guys.

Seven Days A Week - This one is about Jayda and her perfect ass. It's my first song, and this is the one I was most upset about leaking because it's by far the most personal.

Night After Night - I posted the lyrics to this awhile back, or at least a rough version. I did the music myself, too. Yes, I play piano - Mum taught us all when we were young.

Mine For Life - If Australia were my boyfriend, this is what I'd write to him. I could never leave you, even though I've tried.

Rock and Roll - Basically, the title says it.

Hope You're Happy Now - Thanks, haters.

Tony The Beat - This is Alfie's genius and this is my own leak, because this is too flawless to keep to myself. Cocky? Yes. Honest? At least I am that too.

Queen of Apology - August's turn for genius. This is what we did yesterday.


Hm. By the way, I am not in rehab (thanks Perez?) but at home with my family, where I should be. They're better at keeping me in line than a bunch of overpaid shrinks anyway. While I'm here: nor am I sleeping with anyone, nor am I doing much of anything, nor am I fighting with anyone. Well, mostly - I've been kicking our littlest's ass at Guitar Hero and got into a screaming row at the Crows game (which kicked fucking ass, Brett Burton will you marry me?) over Adelaide vs Port with my older sister - does that count? I didn't think so either.

Peace out for now.

I've been meaning to make an update here for a few days now, about the trials and all, but honestly? I've been far too ecstatic and focused on nothing but swimming for the past little while. I got off to a rocky start, but as has been reported extensively, I've managed to make a pretty sweet comeback. I am still only five hours past my last race, where another record was set - how did I do that? - and am still at the top of an incredible adrelenine rush. I am also in complete shock and awe of myself, and I can't do much except sit here and ask my mum to pinch me over and over. I haven't woken up yet, and even my littlest brother whacking me in the arm didn't snap me out of this dream, nor did Alfie pulling my hair, so I guess... I guess this truly is my reality. Wow.

My times -
100m free: 52.88 (WR)
50m free: 23.97 (WR)

I've discounted the relay times, because they don't really count anyway - a new relay team will be formed as need be while the teams work out. I likely won't be on one - might be an alternate - as I'm returning to LA as planned, at least for a little while. I can't imagine the national coaches will let me stay away past June, even if I vow to keep up my training regime. Regardless, I think I've slightly changed my outlook on all of this, and suddenly I am seventeen again and my passion for this sport is at it's peak. No longer am I jaded and tired and irritated with the expectations and press. I've proven them all wrong, and I'm free to once again swim for swimming's sake alone. I've missed this.

Cheesy or not, I've got to thank my family and friends for all their support, from the stands and around the world. There are far too many to list, but the strongest voices I've gotten encouragement from: August, Alfie, Aly and Nick, Mum, Asher, Ainsley and Kevin and the kids, Dad and even you Abram; Jayda, Brady, Bailey, Peyton; Shaylee and her bitches, and all the young swimmers who still believe I am something to asipre to; everyone who's thought for a fleeting second that I might stand a chance - Thank you. I know I did this on my own, but I couldn't have done it without knowing you all believed in me.

Now it's time to party.

Love,
Aubrey

I am going to the motherfucking Olympics, bitches.

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...

Dear Sydney,


Tonight (15 March) there is going to be a show at The Forum. Sneaky Pete is playing, and while you probably have never heard of them, as an early fan of their work I highly reccomend you all go - I promise you won't regret it. Also, I won't be the only Laine there, though I'm sure I'll be the cutest.

See you all tonight - and beware of Decepticons.


Love,
Aubrey

Home, sweet home. There is no place on Earth that feels as warm and wonderful as home does, and I am sure that'd be the case regardless of the climate. We could be in the dead middle of the Arctic, and I am sure I couldn't be any happier, so long as my Mummy, Daddy Feathersword (don't ask), and endless barrage of brothers and sisters were along. Well, I could do without Abram hanging about, but for the sake of kindness, lets leave that be.

As previously stated, I've crashed Alfie's room. He and his dog Boo are not bad roomates, but they sure aren't as snuggly as Jayda. He also doesn't smell as yummy, he always leaves his dirty socks laying about, and has taken to stealing my scarves when he thinks I am not looking. I'd lodge a formal complaint with the Court of Mum, but I'm sure she'd turn around and make me give back these awesome pants I snagged last night while he was out in the paddocks with August, likely working on some new music. Speaking of my dearest big brother, he's a genuis - for once I was not misquoted, and someday I will make a long list of reasons why I believe August William Laine is actually the second coming of Jesus. Or first, if you're Jewish like my Grandmum and don't believe Jesus came in the first place. How did this turn into a religious blabber? Back to what matters: my family, and how this ridiculous group of relations is so attractive, and mostly all pretty fantastical and uberbrainy too. Mark my words; one of us is going to be Prime Minister one day. I vote Alyse, or Mum - she's used to wrangling a rowdy bunch of brats and laying down the law like nobody's business. And boy, does she look fine in a power suit. Vanessa Laine for PM!

I'm happily settled at home, though it isn't going to last much longer - after the weekend I'm heading to Port Augusta to get back into training, and there I will stay until mid-March, when I relocate to Sydney for the lead up to the national competition. Yup, I am in the flyers and billboards, and seeing my own face on the side of the highway as August and I were driving away from Adelaide was slightly odd - especially since I had no idea I was featured in the campaign. He didn't forget to tease me the entire way home for it, and was sure to share with the rest of the family what he say - wondering if we could buy one of them for the backyard, then send the real me back to LA. It'd be a lot quieter round home that way. He's hilarious, really. Leave the comedy to Asher (who is the next Will Farrell, watch for it).


And now its time for photos. I've had a busy past week, am pretty exhausted, and will quickly summarize in photographic terms. Enjoy.

WEDNESDAY: This is me at the airport around 5am, hanging out in some mad gangster chair while we were waiting to board the airplane for New Jersey....

...and this is the love of my life, doing the same. She is totally checking up on her WOW stats, I swear it. My nerd.

Ryan Neely is ridiculous. He is almost as drunk as me, and I love him for it. Probably a little too much. Oh well.

Babygirl at soundcheck, being her awesome cranky perfectionist self. I love her so hard.

I am so in love with this woman, holy crap on a stick. The show. Perfect.

THURSDAY: This is the face I saw bright and early, rolling off the plane from Newark to Boston. I am the first to admit to being an early riser and all, but I am so not a happy morning person - how is he so Goddamned perky at 9am? It's unnatural - therefore it must have been the sight of me that was making him so giddy ;)

After spending the day wandering around Boston and the evening at a fancy V-Day wedding, my favorite band in the world had a show....

And they let me sing with them. Holy crap.

The rest of my weekend was packing, crying, clinging to Jayda's legs and hanging out on airplanes. I didn't take any more photos until I arrived in the Adelaide airport and was greeted with this beautiful poster and slightly creepy yet still perfect face:

Shortly after that wonderful greeting, I threw a razor at my hero and made him remove that dead animal on his face before driving the three hours straight home to see this adorably perfect little face anxiously awaiting my arrival:

And then Alfie went all scenester photographer... and August went Blood. I hope The Game sees this and recruits him. He's so hot. I'd hit it. The Game I mean, not my amazing genuis brother.

And that is that. Now I'm going to feed Sal (my emu), then will sit back and watch Night at the Roxbury, then The Anchorman with my baby brothers. XOXO!

Airplanes. I hate them. I'm spending the next 22 hours on one and it's going to be a rotten time. I'd typically pop a few Gravols and pass out on Jayda's lap and it wouldn't be quite so bad, however, I am going home all by myself. Like a big girl. A panicky big girl, who's too scared of being robbed or photographed to allow herself to sleep on a plane. I don't worry about crashing, I worry about there being no place to hide up there.

Provided I make it off the plane alive, I'm spending an evening in Sydney then heading home to my Mummy and everyone else. I'll be crashing Alfie's room, and probably post pictures of my dearest in his underpants by the weeks end. He loves me best, I can get away with these things. Also, any nice girls out there? Please show yourselves, I need to hook my brother up. Sluts need not apply - and don't think I won't know if you're a slut, I can sense sluts from a mile away. My baby Buggy is too good for sluts. Too precious. Don't repost this on the Soundwave boards, please.

I'm currently in weird emotional distress. Please get me a drink, I am an Olympic athlete and not allowed to smoke a bowl to ease my nerves. Drinking myself into stupidity will have to do.