Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.

All you can do really, is pick up the pieces and hope you manage to paste them back where they belong. You'll still be cracked, but at least you're back in once piece. At least you look like you're all together.


My best friend who isn't a brother, I miss her. It hurts my little heart a little bit. Okay, a big bit.

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...

I do know what I'm doing. I am breaking free from a force that has forgotten what it means to have fun; I am searching for the passion that got lost in the mix of press releases and pressures to be first. I am taking back my career. No one ever asks what I think or what I want when it comes to this sport, and not being given a choice makes me want the exact opposite of what I am handed, regardless of what it is or isn't. When they tell me to go left, I immediately turn right, and if they say up, I go down, only because I am sick of being told what to do. Right now I need a break, I need my family, and I need to remember why I do what I do in the first place. It might seem like I am slacking off to anyone who doesn't know me and how I work, but without a step back, I will surely snap within the next two weeks and not compete at all. And believe me - I want to, and I will be, swimming in the national championships. I have a lot to prove to every single person who has criticized me, even more to everyone who's offered me support, and mostly, I have a world to prove to myself. I will be there.

By the way, I am not dating Brady Collins in any way, shape or form. He is one of my closest friends, and we'd undoubtedly produce children far too attractive for this world (that is an inside joke, please don't take it out of context and write about how I want his children, for the love of God), but it is not happening. Now or later. I'm removing myself from that triangle, and I'm not going to comment on that anymore. Jayda is and always will be my best friend, we are not fighting, and in fact, I have written a poem about how much I love her:

Jayda Barclay with eyes so blue

Do you know how I love you?

Your perfect face and sweet sweet voice

I don't want to share you with any boys.

Jayda Barclay with eyes turned green
Do you know that you're my queen?

I love your bed and I love your shirts

And I miss you so much it really hurts.

Jayda Barclay with eyes changing still

Do you know I love you and always will?

You're my better half and my best friend

And I love you best, until the very end.

See? I miss my Jaybean. We don't hate each other. Stop saying shit like that, it makes me want to cry.

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!

This is my best friend, who, after tomorrow, I will likely not see for weeks on end due to obnoxious schedules (not because we are feuding, not because she is batshit crazy and not because I am screwing any/all of her bandmates). She is the light of my life, and even if I post nasty 5am photos of her on my blog, it's because I think she is beautiful when the rest of us aren't, and am just jealous that she looks so fucking good without makeup and a flat iron.

Since I will not see her at all after tomorrow, I am going to crawl into her bed now, until we have to get up at waytooearly AM to go to the airport. I will take a gravol and spend the flight to New Jersey slumped over on her lap, but she will play with my hair and watch a movie on her MacBook, and not mind it one bit. We will spend the day attached at the hip, except when she is on stage and I will be standing just out of sight, in total awe of this little thing bouncing all over the stage, and when it comes time for my flight to Boston and hers back to LA, I know I will cry - but not until I am out of sight. She won't cry, but she might sleep in my room for a night or two when she gets back and I'm not there.

Anyway, I just had to login and say I love this kid more than life. Goodnight.