star system.

australia and canada are not unlike each other. we are both big, giant countries. we are both at once internationally adored and internationally ignored. we are polite and tidy and relatively inoffensive. and we both like to claim our stars.

every canadian knows which hollywood star is a true canuck- we know who has flattened their vowels and bleached their hair and teeth in order to make a name for themselves in the pantheon of american celebrity. we are proud to call pamela anderson our own (though really, should we be? i wouldn't be too fussed to let america claim her). we all boast that ellen page, breakout star of 2007, hails from the great white north. jim carrey, mike myers, rachel mcadams? with glowing hearts they've seen thee rise. and we're holding on for dear life, hoping that if enough canadians make a solid name we might finally begin to develop our own independent international presence.

this is something shared by the aussies. they like to lay claim to their stars just as much as we do. cate blanchett, hugh jackman, kylie minogue- they are huge here and everyone is desperate to make sure the world knows that they are australian. when i arrived two months ago the country was plastered with newspaper cover stories devoted to mourning the loss of their very own heath ledger. everyone stays very up-to-date on the goings-on of their homegrown talent and like a proud and only slightly overbearing stage mother, they are more than willing to boast their connections or intimate knowledge of said celebrities.

two such instances have caught my attention. the first is about russell crowe. the pool where i work looks out at wooloomooloo bay (seriously, that's the name) and there are some very posh lofts built on the pier across the water from us. the penthouse unit at the end of the wharf has a spectacular view of the harbour through its floor to ceiling windows, a million dollar view if ever their was one. i have been told countless times by people at the pool, both employees and customers, that that is the australian home of russell crowe, his wife danielle and their son tennyson. if i got a telescope i could tell you what colour his tea towels are. last night when i was leaving work the lights were on and i could see figures moving around. russell?

the pool complex also has a yoga studio within it and i have gotten to know one of the instructors, waran. waran was telling me how he does private coaching for the conductor of the sydney orchestra and i mentioned how that must come with some sort of bragging rights. and he said, "well, if i wanted to brag, i could brag about being nicole's private yoga instructor." as in nicole kidman-cruise-urban. waran and nicole, just hanging out in downward dog. as i said to my friend jason, only sometimes does she wear the virginia woolf prosthetic nose.

these people are proud of their celebrities. and i say let them be proud. and let me do hot yoga with nicole while you're at it.