Ignore Reality

Time Wasters

2010-11-02T22:09:00.003+11:00

I've been a bit distracted .... for a couple of months. I'm not too sure where the time went but I know I've be busy doing .... errr ... something.

Today is the day I get back into studying. It's not only my blog which had been left neglected. I haven't look at the books for six weeks and I'm starting to get "are you still alive?" emails from my tutor. I'm having trouble concentrating and I've found myself doing all sorts of stupid things today to avoid the books. I have listed 10 of my best distractions for today:-

1. Read the newspaper...
Today is a very important day to know what is going on in the world ... or more specifically, Melbourne.
   Who is the current favourite for the Melbourne Cup?
      Is it raining?
         Have there been any late scratchings?
                Are the frocks spectacular?

All vital information for someone contemplating a wager on the nags. Sadly I'm not going to place any bets this year because    I HAVE TO CONCENTRATE AND DO SOME STUDY!

2. Check Facebook
Only a small number of my friends still bother posting anything to Facebook anymore but you never know when some gem of wisdom will be unleashed on the world. I certainly don't want to be the one who misses it.
.... Nothing new on Facebook today. Just as well, because I should be studying.

3. Ring my mother
I haven't spoken to my mother for a while so I though I should do the good daughter thing and give her a call. She wasn't home. Now I think about it, I recall she was planning a holiday to Europe. Bugger, I hate it when parents leave the country and don't tell you. Mum probably didn't want to phone and disturb me while I was studying.

4. Find the missing grey pen
I have a set of a dozen brightly coloured pens that I use to take notes with when I'm studying. I lined them all up neatly so I could use them in the correct sequence and to my horror ... the grey pen is missing. I can't possibly do any work with only eleven brightly coloured pens. Turn the house upside down until it is found. Just between you and me, I don't really like the grey pen and when I find it I probably won't use it.

5. Put flea killer on the cats
This is not a job to be taken lightly. The first cat is easy, she's asleep and never sees you coming. It's the second cat which is the problem. She has been woken by the banshee wail and the sound of the first cat and I rolling around on the floor while I try to hold her long enough to get the tiny drop of flea stuff behind her head. Second cat is not dumb and she heads for the hills. Ahhh, but I am smarter than that - all exits have already been sealed. Now if I could take some of those smarts and apply them to my assignment ....

6. Check Facebook again

I have this theory that sooner or later someone will be in desperate need of help and the only way they can reach anybody is via Facebook. It is a civic duty for me to check frequently to ensure there isn't anybody out there crying out for my assistance.

So far, so good. Nobody needing to be rescued today.

7. Have pointless conversation with someone on FaceBook

Since nobody had posted anything thing interesting on Facebook today it was up to me to post my status. Happily for me this triggered a pointless conversation with my nephew about ethics, Pamplona and yellowcake uranium. My nephew should also be studying. Misery love company.

8. Learn to play a song which I don't really like.
I play the guitar [very badly] and sometimes it can help me to focus if I play a few songs. I'm still learning so my choice of songs is somewhat limited. Generally songs which are easy are not the songs I like. Puff the Magic Dragon is a song I loathe. Even as a child I hated it. It makes me gag. Today I spent an hour learning to play Puff the Magic Dragon.

9. Catch up on the blog-a-sphere

Not only has my own blog been neglected, I've fallen behin in reading about everybody else out there. Bad Vicki. Time to catch up with everybodys blogs.

Only 715 posts to go. Good grief, you lot are prolific.

10. Dust of the blog and tell the world about my day.
I concede defeat. Studying is not going to happen today. I was gallant in my attempts but sadly I failed dismally but it seems I can find the time to tell you all about it.

Maybe I'll have a better day tomorrow. I wonder what is on telly?

Watery Wednesday: Theseus slaying a Minotaur

2010-09-15T11:01:00.000+10:00

The Archibald Fountain is located in Hyde Park in the centre of Sydney. Theseus is one of the classical figures and represents sacrifice for the good of humanity. Rain was teeming down when this photo was taken and the water on the bronze made it shine.

Macro Monday: Jonquils

2010-09-13T17:17:00.001+10:00

Happy Macro Monday! I took this photo about a month ago when my bulbs were all coming to life. I didn't like the photo but when I looked at it again this week I had a change of heart. There had been a frost overnight. The ice had melted leaving tiny drops of water on the flowers.

Visit Macro Monday at Lisa's Chaos for more close-up photography.

Sundays In My City: Festival of the Winds

2010-09-12T20:00:00.002+10:00

At the beginning of spring every year the Festival of the Winds kite festival is held at Bondi Beach. This year hundreds of kites ranging from tiny home-made paper kites to huge flying octopus battled for air space on a beautiful spring day.

Everywhere I looked were kids running along the beach trying to get there kites to fly. So many dads were reluctant to give up control of their kite to the kids once they had finally managed to get them airborne. Seems is wasn't just a day for the kids.

Giant kites dominated the air.

Two kites dances in the sky in tandem.

Felix the cat struggled to get in the air.

Some kites were not so successful.

Bondi Beach sunset.

Have a look at the great posts at Sundays in my City.

Help me Chuck Norris!

2010-09-08T11:15:00.000+10:00

Have you ever needed to disappear for a while? Life went a little nuts for me in August and I found myself circling the wagons. Nothing bad, but I was busy ... ridiculously busy. I've needed Chuck Norris to come to my rescue.

August was always going to be crazy. There were several trips away and some major birthdays to deal with. Add to this the surprise and unwelcome news that the course I am currently studying is being phased out and replaced by another course.

The timing of this truly sucks. I can't transfer over to the new course without having to repeat many of the subjects I have already done. My only option is to complete the old course as quickly as possible while still in the transition period and hope for transfer credits on the completed work.

So that has been my life for the last few weeks. Endless assignments, research and handing in sub-standard work in the hope that nobody will notice I was too tired to run a spell check.

Speaking of Chuck Norris, I want you all to go to Google and type in Search for Chuck Norris in the search thingy and have a look at the first result.

I know, it's an old joke but it still always cracks me up!

Macro Monday: Feather

2010-08-02T13:39:00.003+10:00

Somewhere in Sydney there's a cockatoo flying around missing a few feathers. I found this one lying on the edge of the river near home. Something a bit different from the flowers I've been posting lately.

Enjoy Macro Monday.

Scenic Sunday: Woronora River

2010-07-31T19:06:00.000+10:00

Dear Winter,
I'm through with you. Please go away.

Not so kind regards,
Vicki

I got sick of waiting for a clear day to take some photos, so I decided to try capturing the river near my house as it was covered in fog. The fog was starting to clear as I arrived so I probably missed the best shots, but it was cold and I didn't want to get out of bed.

Woronora Bridge disappearing into the fog.

Woronora River as the sun breaks through the fog.

Have a wonderful Scenic Sunday.
I'm off to watch the rugby. GO WALLABIES!

Macro Monday: Zygocactus

2010-07-19T14:09:00.001+10:00

I'm having a bit of a run with flower macro photos at the moment.
I couldn't resist posting a shot of my zygocactus which burst into
flower this week. It always surprises me when it flowers,
probably because the poor plant is so neglected. It surprises me
it's still alive.

Visit more macro shots at Lisa's Chaos.

Sunday In My City: Rainbow Lorikeet

2010-07-18T16:01:00.001+10:00

Sunday In My City comes from home today. I don't have to move off the deck to enjoy a wonderful Sunday in Sydney.

Sunday mornings are my favourite time of the week. Breakfast on the deck in the sun (even in winter), enjoying lots of coffee and reading the newspaper. It's my ideal way to start the week.

Occasionally we are joined on the deck by a few lorikeets looking for a free meal. I don't feed them often as they develop a dependency but a few bits of apple once in a while won't hurt.

As beautiful as they are, they're very messy eaters.

and how do the great furry hunters which also live in the house react when we are visited by the lorikeets?

Yep, possibly the laziest cats on the planet. Which is good for the birds.

Slug-cats

It's time to visit Sunday around the world with Sunday In My City.

Watery Wednesday: Lion Fountain

2010-07-14T09:30:00.000+10:00

Welcome to Watery Wednesday. This photo was taken in the Blue Mountains, west of Sydney. We were staying in a wonderful guest house and the fountain was hidden away in the gardens.

Visit to Watery Wednesday for more photos.

Challenge #51: Small Change

2010-07-12T18:56:00.001+10:00

The good folks at Blog This have thrown up a photography challenge which I couldn't resist. The theme is change and it's something very close to my heart.

Every day my beloved comes home from a hard day in the salt mines and empties all the change out of his pockets into a jar. When the jar is full, he gets another jar and starts again. This, dear friends, drives me nuts. There is enough coins in jars around the house to end poverty .... or buy shoes. (yes, I'm shallow, I don't know how I live with myself)

The jar in this photo is special. These are the coins he emptied out of his pockets while he was a smelly backpacker travelling the world.

It was only while I laying on the floor taking the photo I realised the double meaning of change these coins represent. Many of these coins don't exist anymore. They are pre-Euro and have been phased out of the economy. Other coins are from Eastern European countries which are now very different from those which existed in the 1980's. This jar holds our own little piece of history. I guess I won't be buying shoes with this lot.

Note: while lying on the floor taking the photo I also noticed how grubby the carpet is. Thankfully I managed to edit out the worst bits.

Macro Monday: Winter Garden

2010-07-12T12:03:00.003+10:00

Enough complaining about the winter weather. It happens every year so I shouldn't be surprised that it is cold. One of the great things about winter in Australia is this is when many of the native plants flower so it's a great time for macro shots.

I went for a walk through my garden this morning to see what has started to flower. It's still a little early and I can see lots of buds that will look great in a couple weeks. My grevillea never stops flowering so I know I can always get a photo of them and the Kangaroo Paw has been going strong for a few weeks now.

Kangaroo Paw

Correa

Grevillea 'Superb'

Enjoy Macro Monday and don't forget to visit Lisa's Chaos to see what other little stuff was posted this week

Scenic Sunday: Botany Bay

2010-07-11T18:47:00.000+10:00

I'm having a few technical difficulties with my new camera so I haven't had many respectable photos to post for a couple of weeks. The new camera is great if I can ignore the fact that everything is a beautiful shade of blue. I've been using it on manual settings so I have to work out which setting I've got wrong.

Today's photos are views of Botany Bay looking south towards the area of Sydney where I live. These were taken with my old camera while it was still working.

Botany Bay at sunset.

I don't see many monks around Sydney so it's always nice to see them visiting the sites like any other tourist.

It's winter here so I can understand the socks.

Happy Scenic Sunday. Enjoy some great photos by visiting here.

Scenic Sunday: Waverley Cemetery

2010-07-04T12:31:00.000+10:00

It may be a little ghoulish, but I love cemeteries. Cemeteries are a great place to take photos since nothing much moves there (hopefully).

Waverly Cemetery sits above the cliff looking east over the ocean in the suburb of Bronte. It's a beautiful location and it always amazes me that this prime piece of real estate has not been used for expensive housing. It's comforting to know that beautiful views can be saved for the deceased.

Sunset at Waverley Cemetery

This photo was taken before dawn with a 30 second exposure. It was still dark and I had to use a torch to get enough light to focus the camera.

RIP William Barclay

Visit Scenic Sunday for photos from around the world.

Watery Wednesday: Coogee Beach

2010-06-30T23:55:00.009+10:00

I still have 5 minutes of Wednesday left to do a Watery Wednesday posting. I'm cutting it a bit fine today.

The weather has been lousy for taking photos over the last two weeks but I went to Coogee Beach to try my luck. It was too grey and overcast to get anything spectacular but I liked this shot of a wave breaking over the edge of the ocean pool.

There are some great shots this week at Watery Wednesday

Warm Buzzy Happy Feelings

2010-06-30T12:19:00.000+10:00

Hmmm, it's been a while since I was here last. As I sit here at my desk drinking possibly the greatest coffee ever, I realised I have a choice today: I could do some study and catch up on the course work which has also been badly neglected or I could blow some dust off the old blog. Obvious choice, and here I am once more.

Before I launch into the "I have been so busy and I haven't had time to blog" spiel, let me tell you about the coffee I'm drinking at the moment. I made it myself and it's gooooood! I'm getting that warm, happy buzz which is going right through me from an offensively strong espresso.

Back in the dark days when I had a job, I was a complete coffee junkie. If I didn't have at least 3 macchiatos before lunch I was unable to function. A couple more shots of caffeine in the afternoon and I could face the rest of the day. Didn't sleep well last night? No worries, a cup of coffee first thing in the morning will sort that out quick smart.

My work colleagues knew that getting between me and my coffee in the morning was a career threatening move. One of the younger members of my team made the fatal mistake of bouncing up to my desk full of youthful excitement and enthusiasm. I had just arrived at work clutching my coffee cup with the lid still unopened. He only made this mistake once but he still trembles with fear when he recalls my response.

After I left my job I went cold turkey off the coffee. Not pretty. Since then I have only had the occasional cup ... until yesterday.

It's not like I haven't had the opportunity to have good coffee at home. Taking up a ridiculous amount of bench space in my kitchen is the mother of all espresso machines. It's all shiny with lots of knobs, dials and pokie-out bits and I am absolutely terrified of it. I'm convinced that if I press the wrong switch, it will explode and I will go down in the statistics as Australia's only coffee machine fatality. Yesterday I remembered I liked coffee a lot so I swallowed my fear and managed to produce a weak, sad little espresso . It wasn't earth shattering but it was progress.

Today I was feeling very brave. I doubled the amount of beans and crammed so much ground coffee into the coffee-filter-thingy (technical coffee term) that I may have created a couple of diamonds. I have no idea if this is the right way to make an espresso … but the result was good. Really good. Curl your toes with joy type of good. Ooohhhh, I'm really happy now.

As for my excuses for not having time to blog, I think I will save them for tomorrow.

Time for another coffee?

Oh, if you insist.

Scenic Sunday: Waterfall in Flood

2010-06-06T23:13:00.000+10:00

It's still raining here so today's photos are of a flooded waterfall near where I grew up. Apsley Falls is located near the town of Walcha in the northern part of New South Wales. As a kid I was never interested in visiting the falls. Now I have moved away I love any chance I can get to see them again.

Apsley Falls in flood

This part of NSW has been suffering drought for years so it's nice to see the rain.

This shot was taken from the top of the falls.

The mist from the waterfall stops this from being a very clear photo but it gives some scale with the people on the left side of the shot.

Macro Monday: Kaffir Lime

2010-05-31T12:29:00.000+10:00

It's still raining and everything is wet. In the end I gave up and this weeks macro photo is a soggy Kaffir Lime. Kaffir Limes are more famous for their leaves which taste brilliant in a Thai curry. The fruit isn't good for eating or juicing so I don't usually bother collecting them (I'm a lazy gardener).

Don't forget to visit Lisa's Chaos to see her great macro shots of flowers as well as all the other submissions for this week.

Sunday in My City: There is a storm brewing.

2010-05-30T18:39:00.000+10:00

Sydney is bracing for a big storm which is expected to arrive tonight. We'll miss the worst of it but there will be some impressive sea swell. Bare Island is one of my favorite spots in Sydney. It's locating inside Botany Bay and is normally protected from the open ocean. Today the eastern side of the island was taking a battering.

Waves breaking onto the rocks.

I suspect the guy on the rock is whale watching.
Humpback whales are travelling up the coast this time of year.

We are expecting one of the worst storms of the year but there is always someone who will go surfing.
Nutter.

I was a bit close for this shot and had to run to avoid getting wet when a big wave hit.

Visit Unknown Mami to see what is happening in the world today.

I am Competent

2010-05-27T13:58:00.001+10:00

For weeks I have been working on the major assignment for the subject I'm studying. It was important to me to do well, so I stopped going out, cut out all distractions (including blogging) and dedicated my life to this assignment.

The assignment required hours of research on the Australian vocational education system and the government bodies that oversee them. After spending my entire working life in the private sector, this glimpse of the public sector left me stunned. After all this research, I still can't draw a diagram showing all the various organisations and departments and how they connect to each other. I found one government department who's sole purpose is to oversee another depatrment, which is responsible for the oversight of a third department.

To complete the assignment I had to interview a manager of a training provider about how the organisation is run. I pestered this poor man for an interview until he decided I wasn't going to go away and it was easier to just give in. I probably didn't use the time well. I was so grateful that he had given me half an hour of his time that I spent twenty minutes thanking him.

So after all this effort I received my results yesterday: You have achieved competence.

Competence ??

That's it? I'm competent?

I feel robbed. I was expecting something a little more dramatic. I was aiming for Really Really Competent. I had even dared to dream of Über Competent.

This was not a satisfactory return on effort.

Next assignment I'm going to have a bludge.

Macro Monday: Gumnuts

2010-05-24T14:35:00.000+10:00

Happy Macro Monday!

Gumnuts

I'm suffering from a bit of Monday-itis so I don't have much to say today. Enjoy Macro Monday.

Scenic Sunday: Tropical Sunrise

2010-05-23T15:35:00.003+10:00

I haven't been able to post many blogs in the last couple weeks. I have had an assignment that was due and I was so easily distracted I needed to ban the blog until it was finished.

Today is a grey rainy day in Sydney and I'd much rather curl up on the sofa with a book than go outside and take some photos. On days like these I search the archives for something a little special from a past holiday. These shots were taken while on holiday in Papua New Guinea. I'm not sure why I was awake at this time of the morning but it was worth it.

Resthorf Island, New Britain Island - Papua New Guinea

I was always amazed when, just as I thought we were miles from anywhere, someone would turn up in a canoe.

Out for an early morning paddle.

Visit Scenic Sunday for a view on what the rest of the world is looking like.

Sunday in My City: Cabramatta

2010-05-16T20:48:00.000+10:00

Lunch is special on Sunday. As winter approaches one of my favourite places to go for lunch is Cabramatta. Cabramatta is a suburb of Sydney with a large Vietnamese community and you can get the best Phở (beef noodle soup) this side of Ho Chi Minh City.

Cabramatta has a image problem. It was once an area with a reputation for drug related crime but I don't often see any indication that this is still a problem. Over the years the migrant population have prospered and I feel a sense of progress when I visit the area now.

Lion standing guard outside freedom plaza.

My lunch. I'm not much of a food stylist so please forgive the limp basil poking out the top.

These chillies could kill a horse.

Sunday in My City hosted by Unknown Mami is the place to go to visit Sunday around the world.

Macro Monday: You're the One

2010-05-10T09:55:00.003+10:00

Happy Macro Monday!

I had a lot of fun with today's macro shot. I had bubbles from one end of the bathroom to the other and there was water everywhere. Probably not a great place to take my camera.

Sing it with me! ... Rubber Ducky, You're the one. You make bath time lots of fun.

So many great macro and close up shots at Lisa's Chaos. Go and have a look.

Scenic Sunday: Grose Valley, Blue Mountains

2010-05-09T09:36:00.000+10:00

The Grose Valley is a deep gorge west of Sydney in the Blue Mountains. The sandstone cliffs tower hundreds of meters above the Grose River. These photos were taken from the lookout at Govetts Leap.

There are claims the lookout was named after a bushranger named Govett. After he robbed a bank, he refused to surrender while being chased by police . He spurred his horse and disappeared off the waterfall which drops 450 m into the Grose Valley. Great story but not much basis in fact. It is more likely it was named after William Govett, a surveyor who spent many years in the area.

Bridal Veil Falls surrounded by sandstone cliffs

Grose Valley from Govetts Leap. The haze of blue comes from the Blue Gum forest.

and finally monsieur a wafer-thin mint.

2010-05-07T12:41:00.000+10:00

Have you ever been to a Degustation dinner? I went to one last night. I'm still trying to decide what I thought of it. If nothing else, it was an experience and I tried some food that I never though I would ever eat. The dinner was to celebrate my cousin's 40th birthday and it was a pretty posh affair. I was expected to wear shoes.

Dinner started with Amuse Bouche. I'm thinking back to my high school French. Bouche means mouth and Amuse has got to mean happy. Happy Mouth! What a great way to start dinner. Happy Mouth was a tiny cube of trout on a bed of avocado mousse served in a shot glass. This was my first hurdle: I don't eat a lot of seafood so a chunk of raw trout is confronting. It was only a tiny piece of fish and you only live once, so I gave it a go. It was nice. My mouth was happy.

Next serve was snow crab and konbu jelly. More seafood! Fantastic. Hidden under the crab meat I found fish row. I got to eat the babies as well. The best part of this dish was the spoon which was made out of rye bread. The idea was you can eat the cutlery when you finish. Sadly the rye spoon was too thin and snapped as soon as I tried to use it and I found out it's not a good look eating fish eggs with your fingers.

I won't bore you all to death with a description of every course. It was a degustation and there were far too many courses to tell you about. I have a couple highlights: Truffle Egg Yolk and a tiny roll of crusted lamb. This was my first truffle encounter and I'm impressed. I always imagined truffle would taste like a dirty mushroom so I was surprised to find that it was more like a complex and aromatic dirty mushroom. (I'm not sure my description has done it justice)

Every course was no more than a few bite size pieces of food so I don't understand how I managed to get so full. I'm sure I didn't eat that much. I declined the cheese platter and decided to go for a quick walk around the hotel we were dining at. Dessert was still to come and I wasn't going to miss that. We were eating at a five star hotel so I felt like a movie star wandering through the beautiful foyer. The ladies toilets were worth checking out. Lounge chairs, artwork on the walls and assortment of hand creams, soaps and smelly stuff and, something I have never seen before ... mouthwash for the guests. I had to give the mouthwash a try. I'm not sure watching me have a gargle and rinse would be a five-star experience for the other guests, so it was lucky I was alone.

Dessert was a collection of various pieces of chocolate, cake and cream that almost made me cry with delight. I was still feeling very full and it was only through sheer bloody-mindedness that I managed to eat them all. Not surprisingly, dessert had a faint taste of mouthwash. (Note to self: mouthwash is for after dinner, not during.)

The final verdict is ... interesting. If you get the chance to try a degustation dinner give it a go and if you're really lucky you get free mouthwash too.

Watery Wednesday: Circular Quay, Sydney

2010-05-05T10:55:00.003+10:00

So many of my photographs feature water it was only a matter of time before I posted onto Watery Wednesday.

At Circular Quay in Sydney you will find a series of fountains depicting the Australian bushlife around waterways. I must have walked past them hundreds of times when I worked in the city without really stopping to take a look. I like how a camera makes me slow down.

Back off Big Nose. I'll have you!

Bubbles and cascades

Have a look at the other submissions to Watery Wednesday and let the water relax you.

Looking Back - Visiting My First Blog Post

2010-05-05T09:40:00.003+10:00

I've had a wonderful few days away and now it is time to get back into this blogging caper. Jacinta at Live Life Now has been digging into the past to re-post her first blog. She has tagged me visit my first blog. The challenge was started by started by Sarah at Just Me.
Sarah wrote:

What I want you to do is repost your very first blog post. I want to see how things are different now, if you write differently, if you write about the same topic, if you did a “hi this is why I’m blogging” sort of post or if you just got straight into it.

Then I want you to tag five people to do the same.

The Betrayal was my first blog. It was a verbose rant about my cleaners having the audacity to want to go on holidays. I had arrived home to find a note telling me that my cleaners where going on a special long holiday for seven weeks over Christmas and January. I was horrified at the prospect of having to clean up after myself and was oozing self-pity. As promised in the blog, I managed to get the house into an absolute pigsty for them to clean up when they returned.

My single comment was from Jacinta which I have included for your reading pleasure:

livemorenow said...: bahahahaha; oh that makes me laugh to the point of being a bit sick. Why don't you check into a hotel?

I was overwhelmed by her compassion.

It's interesting that I should revisit this post now as the house is once again looking like a pigsty. This time, however, it's completely of my doing: I've canceled the cleaners for a few weeks. The Ignore Reality household have been complete chaos for the last month. Both my in-laws have been in and out of hospital and have not been able to look after themselves. My father in-law has been living with us while he recovers and my mother in-law has been moving back and forth between hospital and respite care.

I still like the images I used in the original post.

Normally in this situation a cleaner would be welcome and much needed assistance but for a major flaw in my personality: I have to have the house clean before the cleaners arrive. I can't deal with the prospect of
knowing that somebody will be coming to my house when it's a mess, so the night before the cleaners are due, I can be up until midnight making sure everything is tidy. Yep, I'm getting value for money there.

It was fun visiting the past and, rather than limit this to five people to do the same, I'm going to tell everybody to blow the dust of your first blog and bring it out to play.

Macro Monday: Shells

2010-04-26T14:37:00.003+10:00

The Australian Museum is showing the Wildlife Photographer of the Year winning entries. The photography is stunning and if the exhibit comes to your town I recommend a visit. Sadly for Sydneysiders it finishes today. Sorry about the late notice ... if you run now you might still make it.

The exhibit includes a photo studio where you can mess around with your camera and take some macro shots of shells, bugs and some long dead stuffed birds. I managed to elbow the kids out for the way to take a couple shots.

A good photographer would have taken the time to find out the type of shell.
I didn't bother.

Don't forget to visit Macro Monday at
Lisa's Chaos to see more macro and close up photography.

Sunday In My City: ANZAC Day

2010-04-25T12:19:00.007+10:00

It's appropriate today is grey and rainy. It creates a solemn and reflective mood for Anzac Day. Anzac Day is a national day of remembrance in Australia and New Zealand.

The name Anzac originally comes from the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (ANZAC) who fought at Gallipoli in Turkey during World War I. The name has now broadly refers to all those who died and served in military operations.

A small suburban war memorial

A cross indicates Killed in Action

Rain collects on the floral tributes.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young.
Straight of limb, true of eyes, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,

We will remember them.

Australian Flag hangs heavily in the rain.

Visit Unknown Mami for more Sunday in My City

Remembering

2010-04-24T17:00:00.000+10:00

ANZAC Day 2010

Both my Grandfathers fought in World War II. Happily they both survived the war and lived full lives. It's been many years since they passed away and life seems to move on so quickly. ANZAC day is this time when I find myself thinking about their experiences during the war. To my shame, I know very little about their service history. I know that one served in New Guinea and Borneo but the war was never discussed by my family.

Other members of my family also fought for my country or took on war time roles but ANZAC day always makes me think of my Grandfathers. I wonder if I would have the strength to go to war if my country needed me. I feel deep gratitude for their contribution.

Macro Monday: Rain Drops

2010-04-19T12:00:00.003+10:00

Rain Drops on Frangipanis doesn't have the same musical ring as Rain Drops on Roses but I've managed to murder all my rose bushes, so frangipanis will have to do.

Catching the morning sun after a shower of rain.

Lots of good stuff to be seen at Lisa's Chaos.
Go there now. It's worth the visit.

Scenic Sunday: Milford Sound NZ

2010-04-19T10:36:00.002+10:00

I'm having some mobility issues after my fall this week so this weeks Scenic Sunday comes from the archives. This photo of Mitre Peak and Milford Sound was taken a on a trip to New Zealand's South Island. It had been raining heavily all day and I had about 5 minutes between storms to grab this shot.

Visit Scenic Sunday for a spectacular view of the world

Perspective

2010-04-17T12:21:00.002+10:00

Warning: Self Indulgent Post

It's been a tough few weeks. Two elderly relatives are no longer able to look after themselves and dealing with this has pushed me waaaayyy outside my comfort zone. This had been coming for some time but they couldn't be convinced that they needed to think about the future. They were determined to stay living independently in their home and wouldn't consider other options (would I be different? Probably not). Sadly it took a health crisis to change this view. I can't provide the level of care they need so I have been trying to find a path through the maze of the Aged Care Health system.

For the uninitiated, the Aged Care System is a scary place. English is not the primary language and for the last few weeks I have been trying to put all the pieces together. Yesterday was a breakthrough day. An incredibility helpful lady from the Aged Care Assessment Team put everything in place for me. I now know what the next steps are. They're not easy steps to take and it will take time to achieve the solution needed, but it's a huge relief to know what needs to be done.

someecards.com

Through all of this I have been feeling sorry for myself. I didn't realise how traumatic this would be and I wasn't ready to deal with this situation. I tried to escape for a night out last night out with friends, but it wasn't to be. Add to this I'm still in pain after my spectacular (and funny) fall earlier this week (previous blog) and I am wallowing in self pity.

This morning things are in perspective. I subscribe to the NY Times blog Lens. This is a photojournalism blog that feature photographs from current events around the world. The photography is always stunning but today featured the rescue effort in China after the earthquake: Picture of the Day: Rescue Efforts in China

This was my reality check. Things don't seem so bad now and I can deal with whatever I need to do. I'm good.

While you are there, have a look at the stunning photos of the landscape around the volcanic eruption in Iceland :

Images of Iceland's Vast Landscapes.

With a 9.75 Degree of Difficulty...

2010-04-13T11:52:00.010+10:00

... the next contestant in the "Bite the Gravel World Championship" is ...
Vicki! * Crowd goes wild! *

I'm really good at falling over. I can manage to turn the simple task of walking down a path into an acrobatic masterpiece that would make Cirque du Soleil green with envy. A couple of somersaults and a half pike mid stride? Easy. I always bounce back quickly, dust myself off and keep walking (hoping that nobody noticed). Not today. Today I stayed down.

I can trace my crappy day back to 5:20am this morning when the alarm went off. The only things louder than the alarm at that time of the morning are the screams in my head saying "Are you out of your mind?? Go back to sleep, fool woman". Resisting sanity, I dragged myself out of my nice warm bed. In a moment of weakness I had agreed to play golf at 6:45am and I can't reneg on an agreement no matter how badly I wanted to.

At 6:45am it was a little chilly this morning and I was regretting not wearing long pants. Not as much as I regretted it shortly after.

First hole:
    - Stunning drive down the fairway.
    - A few mediocre shots onto the green.
    - Spectacular 10m putt into the hole.
a good start for me and I was feeling pretty pleased with myself.

Second hole:
    - First tee shot goes deep into bushes on the right.
    - Second (provisional) tee shot goes deep into bushes on the left.

At this point I had a choice - do I look for the ball on the left or the right? I chose the right. I chose poorly.

On the right side is a steep uneven gravel path full of pot holes and exposed rocks. I tripped on one of the rocks. Any other day this would be a small recoverable stumble. Not today. I got the death wobbles. With arms (and legs) flailing I looked like pelican trying to land. Gravity took control and I ended with a roll in the gravel. I lay in the dirt doing a damage assessment: Lots of things hurt and there was bloody bits.

I had a flash of a mental picture of how comical my fall must have looked, and I got the giggles. While others were frantically rushing around calling for a medical evacuation (green keeper in a ute) and trying to make me comfortable, I was pissing myself laughing.

I'm now sitting at home on my deck with an ice pack on my ankle and spots of Mercurochrome all over me and I'm looking for sympathy. So far I have received the following sympathetic comments:
"I laughed (just a little)."
"You were due. You haven't had a clumsy attack for a while"
and the most helpful: "Will a bottle of red wine reduce the pain?" (damn straight it will)

Footnote:
I did manage to get the last laugh: One of the cats was feeling a bit playful and thought attacking my ice pack would be a fun thing to do. With my foot elevated, she attacked from below, ruptured the bag of ice and drenched herself in melted ice water. The gods of stupidity must have thought I needed another laugh.

Two belly laughs before lunch - not such a crappy day after all.

Macro Monday: Don't look if you hate spiders

2010-04-12T11:15:00.001+10:00

This spider was hanging right next to my ear for about ten minutes before I noticed. I was able to stop shaking long enough to grab some photos, then I screamed like a little girl as I ran back to the car.

I'm not good with spiders.

This is only just a macro shot ... the spider was huge.

I can't look at these any more. Even the photos freak me out.

You will find much nicer macro photos at Lisa's Chaos.

Sunday in my City: Suburban Warriors

2010-04-11T19:43:00.003+10:00

Visit any suburban sports field in Sydney on a Sunday and you're sure to find some action. I now have deep respect for sports photographers. In my first attempt at sports photography many, many photos were taken and most were deleted.

The winner of this Rugby League match was the team in green and white, which is my local team (yay team!)

Four against one and he is still going.

If I look fierce you might miss the tackle.

Who cares about the main game when you can have your own battle on the sideline?

I overheard the kids discussing how they thought they were good enough to tackle the adults in the main game.

Travel the world by clicking on Unknown Mami.

Sporty Facts

2010-04-05T12:38:00.001+10:00

ick … If I see another Easter Egg I'm going to puke. Every year is the same: I go completely over the top with Easter Eggs. This year is a bit of a worry as I've peaked too early and I haven't made much of an impact in the excess of chocolate. Just thinking about it is making me feel ill. Lucky for me I have a distraction. Sid at Confessions of A Middle-Aged Coffee Addict has tagged me to share seven facts about myself. Sid is a bit of a cricket fan, so my seven facts have a sporting theme. I'm going to describe seven sports that I have attempted with varying degrees of success.

Tennis
My sister and I were sent to tennis lessons when we were young. I thought this was because my mother wanted us to meet other kids and have some fun. I was wrong. My mother was a very good tennis player and she needed someone at the other end of the tennis court who she could destroy with her killer serves. Mum lacked a maternal instinct when it came to tennis and was quite happy to grind me into the clay.
Outcome: I have a pathetic, wimpy serve and I haven't played tennis in years.

Swimming
Most kids pick up swimming quickly. Not me. I have a remarkable lack of coordination so I could either breath or take a swimming stroke, but I couldn't do both at the same time. The swimming lessons continued for years (five, maybe seven years?). Eventually I put all the pieces together without drowning, but it wasn't pretty. At high school it was compulsory to compete in the swimming carnival. I entered the 50m backstroke as I was less likely to drown if I was facing upwards and, to everybody's amazement, I won. In a small country school of 250 kids nobody except myself could swim backstroke and I made the school representative team.
Outcome: I still swim for exercise but at times I get the breathing/stroke bit mixed up and end up having a little drown.

Hockey
Hockey was my sport. Put a stick in my hands and I was happy. For years I was an average fullback who was happy just turning up and having a hit. I was still uncoordinated and had developed a reputation for always falling over. Every thing changed one day when, in complete frustration at continually being beaten, I pulled on the goalkeepers kit. I had found my calling: as a goalkeeper it's ok to fall over in front of the ball. Hockey got a lot more serious after that and I had to go to training.
Outcome: My knees are stuffed, I have very little lateral movement but I still sometimes fantasize about playing in a veterans comp. Luckily the thought of training stops me from doing anything so stupid.

Netball
I played one game of netball at school. It was decided that I shouldn't continue after I asked the coach if it was ok if I punched the girl who was blocking me by doing star jumps. (At least I asked.)
Outcome: never again.

Softball
I'm ashamed to admit it but I throw like a girl. I was always put on third base because I could do the least amount of damage there. I gave up softball after I mis-timed a slide into home base. I started sliding too far from the base and I removed the skin from my ankle to mid-thigh. The worst part occurred when I was sent bleeding to the school nurse she insisted I have a tetanus shot which hurt like a bitch.
Outcome: scars and a dislike of needles.

Volleyball
Happily I wasn't the only one who sucked at volleyball. It was the sport we played after the hockey season had finished and nobody took it very seriously. The entire team was dreadful. We were all short and at full stretch we were lucky to reach the top of the net. Nobody had any idea how to play and it was only ever by accident we were able to return the ball to the other side of the court.
Outcome: group humiliation.

Golf
Golf is my latest sport. I would be a very good golfer if I could keep the goddam ball on the fairway. And if I could putt. And if I could chip onto the green. Besides those small things, I'm pretty good at golf. One day I'm going to have a good game and show everybody how brilliant I am. One day.
Outcome: I should have some more lessons.

Don't be fooled into thinking I'm fit and active. I'm a complete slob who is much happier watching sport than participating. The best part of playing sport is having a drink after the game.

I should pass this on to seven other bloggers, but I'm going to break the rule and send in to three:

Lucy at Diminishing Lucy

Melissa at Sugar Coat it

Jacinta at Live Life Now because she is back from holidays and needs to blog a little.

Macro Monday: Periwinkles

2010-04-05T10:42:00.000+10:00

Happy Monday. I've been crawling around on wet sand looking for interesting little critters. At low tide snails and periwinkles can be found sheltering in rock crevices. The pointy ones hurt when you tread on them with bare feet.

Oh, how I long to move out of the ghetto and into a space of my own.

See what other macro critters have been found at Lisa's Chaos

Scenic Sunday: Bundeena

2010-04-04T16:53:00.000+10:00

Today started rainy and overcast. I didn't hold much hope in getting any photos but a drive to Bundeena (Southern Sydney) got me out of the house. The sun broke through in the afternoon and I managed a few photos.

It must be tough having to wake up to a view of Bundeena Bay every day.

I love my zoom lens 'cause there was no way I was going to get my feet wet.

Ok, I snuck in a close up shot but I loved the colour on this Banksia.

Have a great Easter Scenic Sunday.

Movie Review: The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

2010-04-03T11:51:00.003+11:00

I wasn't planning to see this movie. I loved the book and I didn't want the movie to ruin it for me. However last night was one of those strange nights that didn't go to plan. It's a reoccurring theme in my life. I bought tickets to a football match and, while on the way to the game, I dropped in to check on some family who had been unwell. While there I noticed a match preview on television at the stadium I was heading to but it was a different game. I checked my ticket to see I had bought tickets for the wrong night. My tickets were for tonight. D'oh! A quick change of direction and I'm off to the cinema instead. Lucky I'm versatile.

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is a thriller set in Sweden. Journalist Mikael Blomqvist (played by Michael Nyqvist) and social misfit Lisbeth Salander (Noomi Rapace, who was perfect for this role) are commissioned by a wealthy businessman, Henric Vanger (Sven-Bertil Taube), to investigate a murder. Vanger's niece vanished forty years ago and he is convinced she was murdered by one of his family members who had gathered for a business meeting on the day of the disappearance.

Blomqvist and Solander discover a world more chilling than the icy Swedish setting as they uncover the events which occurred many years ago. Interwoven through this story is Lisbeth's confrontational battle with the lawyer who controls her finances.

There are moments of explicit violence in this film and a couple times I hid under the seat (I'm such a coward). The film is in Swedish and I had some trouble keeping up with the sub-titles in the opening scenes. To my delight, the movie was faithful to the book and it had a non-Hollywood freshness about it.

If I had to compare this film to a food it would be Pickled Herring – a bit different and for the adventurer.

And the good news is: I'm off to the football tonight. I already have my ticket.

Go the Tahs!

A Bit of Easter Cheer

2010-03-31T16:27:00.000+11:00

I'm a bit early for Easter .... but they're so cute....

Macro Monday: The Collector

2010-03-29T16:56:00.001+11:00

I watched a documentary last night about a wildlife photographer which inspired me to see what beasties I could find in my garden. I have always suspected there is a herd of elephants lost somewhere in the jungle that once was my back yard (I must clean that up one day), but all I could come up with was a bee doing the nasty bump with my Lilly Pilly.

Hello Ladies!

The bee is not quite as clear as I would like but in my defence, the little blighter wouldn't stay still. Maybe I need a new camera? :-)

Have a look at Lisa's Chaos for more macro photos

Sundays In My City: Como, Sydney

2010-03-28T19:00:00.003+11:00

Not far fom my house is a small park on the bank of the Georges River. Late Sunday afternoons the park is filled with kids on bikes, dogs going for a walk and the odd wedding.

Come on ... throw the ball ... somebody throw the ball.

Flowergirl has lost interest in the wedding.

Tower, this is Ghost Rider requesting a flyby.

Take a trip around the world with other Sunday in My City submissions.

Macro Monday: Fun Guys

2010-03-22T21:55:00.004+11:00

My partner only knows one joke:

Why were the mushrooms laughing as they were walking down the street?

They were just a couple of fun guys ... get it?... fungi ... funny hah?

No, I didn't think it was funny either, but now when I see mushrooms I always think of his stupid joke. I'm cursed.

Happy Macro Monday!

Scenic Sunday - Shelly Beach

2010-03-21T13:08:00.000+11:00

I'm not a morning person. Not even slightly. With great sacrifice to myself and those around me who now have to tolerate my foul mood, I dragged myself out of my bed pre-dawn this morning to see what the surf was like at nearby Shelly Beach (Cronulla).

6:45am Shelly Beach, Cronulla

The surf was rubbish, but a fantasic sunrise made the pain of not having my Sunday sleep-in worthwhile.

7:15am Shelly Beach, Cronulla

7:20am Looking north towards Kurnell

I am the Worst

2010-03-18T14:59:00.009+11:00

It's official ... I am the worst lawn bowler in the world. Maybe the worst in the entire universe as I am assuming higher minded being living in another solar system have better things to do with their time than chuck a wobbly ball across the lawn.

Last night was the annual twilight lawn bowls night for the department I worked for in another life. I was delighted they invited me back and I was a little flattered that they still remembered me. I missed their true motive: they needed someone to come last.

I'm not a complete novice at lawn bowls and after last year's dismal effort I was determined this year I was going to impress everybody. To tell you the truth, I fancied myself a little. I was sure that a sport where you didn't have to put your beer down when it was your turn was something I was going to be good at. Alas, I was wrong.

We played in teams of four people, so I could try and say it was the team that lost. The organisers were wise to this and the teams were rearranged a few time. Every team I was in lost. I'm taking this very personally.

I think it's time to retire gracefully from the sport. I have never worked out which way the wobbly ball should turn and I can't face the indignity any more of being asked “What are you aiming at?”. I shall concentrate on a sport I can excel at. I am much better at heckling from the sidelines.

"There's nothing wrong with saying hard luck!
Just learn to do it without the snigger.

Macro Monday: Not so Fierce

2010-03-15T20:51:00.002+11:00

I'm going to confess, I didn't take this photo today. I've been at a French Masters Art Exhibition in Canberra today and cameras were not allowed. Sacré bleu! So many macro opportunities and no camera. I've had to dig into the files for today's Macro Monday.

I wish I knew what type of lizard this is. I had to lay in muddy stream to get the shot as he poked his nose out from under a rock ledge.

Lizard in the Blue Mountains

By coincidence I'm following the reptile theme on Macro Monday although
I don't think this little fella is going to rip my arm off.

Sunday in My City

2010-03-14T12:11:00.001+11:00

Sundays in My City is a great idea hosted by Unknown Mami. Take a photo for your city/suburb/town/street on a Sunday and share it by linking it to the site. It's a great way to see the world.

There is a hint of autumn in Sydney at the moment. The breeze is cooler and there is a touch of yellow in the leaves. The Sydney CBD takes on a different personality on Sundays and you can find a quiet spot to sit and have a chat.

Sandstone stairs at the side of Sydney Town Hall.

To see other submissions for Sunday in My City click here.

Out, Out Damn Virus

2010-03-09T11:37:00.001+11:00

I have been infected. A nasty nasty trojan invaded my computer and I have just wasted the last three hours trying to fix up the mess. Normally when something goes wrong with the computer I can act superior and blame someone else for breaking it. Not this time. This one is all mine.

All it took was one glorious moment of dumbness. I received an email last last night from UPS telling me a parcel I had send could not be delivered. While this was unusual, it didn't ring alarm bells. All sorts of purchases and sales occur on eBay at our house and I never know what is going on until the courier arrives to either pick up or deliver.

As soon and I clicked on the attachment I knew I had made big mistake. My computer took on a life of it's own. Screens started popping up everywhere and my virus scanner went into overdrive. At this point I took the only sensible option: Turn the damn computer off and went to bed. I believe denial is a legitimate solution.

Morning comes with a renewed sense of optimism. Maybe the computer fixed itself overnight while it was turned off. Perhaps it was just a bad dream and it never happened?

Nope. It's busted. Totally stuffed.

The sneaky thing about this trojan is it appears to have disabled my main virus scanner and then took over the default Windows virus scanner. It dutifully told me I had been infected and started flashing increasingly urgent messages telling me I was at risk of a) having my personal details stolen, b) having my banking passwords stolen, c) causing a nuclear meltdown and triggering global destruction. (ok, maybe not the last one but that's what it felt like) . I could stop all of this by upgrading my Internet security. All I needed to do was send my credit card details.

I can understand how people get fooled into giving their card details. It is incredibly frustrating when your computer doesn't work and upgrading the security seems like a really good idea. Lucky for me the credit card is already maxed so it was never an option.

Three hours later I had resurrected my main virus scanner which was then able to find and remove the trojan. The process is a like chemotherapy and some pretty important files were killed along the way. My computer is now limping along as I try to replace these files. I'm doing lots of re-installs.

100 Years of Dust

2010-03-08T18:17:00.000+11:00

Sydney Town Hall was opened to the public after renovations last weekend. The waratah in the photograph is part of the brass staircase. It was easy to miss as the staircase is dominated by a stunning stained glass window (definitely not a macro photo).

The light inside the Town Hall was tricky and it was only when I viewed this photo at home that I realised that the Council had not been wasting the taxpayer's money on cleaning. I can't blame them. I wouldn't dust it either.

The Waratah is a flower native to the Sydney region and the floral emblem of New South Wales.

Enjoy some more macro photography at Macro Monday

Exercising the Vocal Chords

2010-03-08T11:39:00.002+11:00

I've had several attempts at writing this blog but I'm struggling to describe something that you have to see to believe. Imagine you are in a room with hundreds of nuns, a Nazi, a few goats, boys in lederhosen and girls in white dresses with blue satins sashes all singing Edelweiss as if their lives depended on it. Is this a nightmare that haunts my sleep? No, this is Sing-a-long Sound of Music. The best fun you can have with someone elses clothes on.

I have a dark secret. I love the Sound of Music movie and it's nice to know I'm not alone. This movie brings out the the closet Maria fans and they are willing to dress up for their night of nights. Some of the costumes were astounding, particularly one woman who wore a bridal dress. The dress was so big the ushers had to help her when she moved around. I hope she didn't use public transport to get home.

This is an interactive show. You don't get to sit back and hum My Favourite Things under you breath while watching Austrian scenery. You're part of the show. As we sat down we were given a bag of tricks to be used during the movie and a quick training session on when to use them (as if we didn't already know!!)

Flash cards to wave in the air during the song How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria.
A piece of curtain material to wave around while shouting “behind you!!” at Maria while she worries about the children's lack of play clothes.
An invitation to the Captains Ball - the social event of the year.
A plastic flower to wave while singing Edelweiss.
Streamers for when Maria and the Captain first kiss.

You must also:-

Hiss when the Baroness appears
Boo the Nazis
Go “Ahhhh” every time Gretl speaks
Bark like a dog when ever Rolf the Telegram Boy appears. (This one makes more sense when you are there) I never liked Rolf. I always thought he was a bit slimy and Liesl could do better.

Most importantly you have to sing.

We sung every Do-Re-Me, yodelled along with the Lonely Goatherd and tries a bit of Latin with the Nuns. The audience was out of key and never in time and it must have sounded brilliant. My voice was a little worse for wear the following day.

We are already planning out costumes for next time. I read about a guy at the San Francisco production who went covered in black balloons. Apparently he was the Lonely Goat Turd. We have to top this.

Arrival of the Queen

2010-03-07T22:53:00.003+11:00

Sunday afternoon yacht races were interupted when Queen Mary 2 cruised into Sydney Harbour. It's difficult to convey the size of this ship with photographs but she is too big to fit under the Harbour Bridge.

Other Scenic Sunday posts can be viewed here.

Macro Monday

2010-03-01T22:47:00.001+11:00

I love photography but lately I haven't spent much time with my camera lately. Bad Vicki. I was admiring the Shelle's damn fine photos on Fair Dinks and saw she posts macro photos to Macro Monday.

I also noticed a tiny bug happily munching his way through my herb garden and now I have my first Macro Monday post.

A word of advice for this hungry little hopper ....

Dude, you're eating my garlic chives. There will be no lov'n from
the ladies if you eat these.
You're gunna stink!

The flowers are about 1cm across and the grasshopper was tiny.

Check out other Macro Monday posts

Reflections

2010-03-01T11:29:00.000+11:00

Someone stole the last two days of February. I thought I had plenty of time before the Blog This Photography Challege was due to close. I looked at my calendar this morning and, damn, March happened while I wasn't looking. I hate it when that happens.

It may be a little presumptuous of me but I couldn't decide which picture to use so I am entering three photos taken around the same time. I took these photos late one afternoon while on holidays in Papua New Guinea. At low tide the locals collect shellfish on the mud flats. The sunset caught the clouds of a thunderstorm building in the distance and there wasn't a breath of wind to ruffle the water.

If you would like to see other entries in the Photography Challenge or to cast a vote visit the Blog This site.

Little Bag of Horrors

2010-02-28T17:24:00.003+11:00

I've been thrown a life line. I have been devoid of blogging inspiration for almost a week and today wasn't shaping up to be any better. I'm sitting at my computer today thinking I'd like to blog, but I got nuffin. Zip. Zilch. Zero. What a joy (and relief) it was to be tagged by Caz at The Truth About Mummy to reveal the contents of my handbag.

I have two handbags

Classy stylish hand-crafted handbag
I use when I'm looking to impress.

Grubby brown sloppy thing covered in beer stains that has seen me at my worst and may have carried me home more than once.

Logic (and dignity) screamed “use the nice bag!” but when I looked at the contents I realised that I wasn't going to get far with lipstick and a squashed Mintie.

My brown handbag … oooo … things go into this handbag and never come out. It's like a black hole sucking matter in with it's gravitational pull. If I dig into it's contents am I going to find the Starship Enterprise or a herd of bison which may have wandered to close? Only one way to find out …

Here goes....

Broken purse well past it's use by date. Clip and zip both broken. Hints given at Christmas about it's advance state of deterioration were ignored. (What have I got to do??? Draw a map?)

Copy of Clockwork Orange. Always handy to read this book on a train. Nobody wants to sit next to someone who is reading something as messed-up as this book.

Cricket Australia Official Fixtures Guide 2009-2010. (stolen) (never used) (seemed like a good idea at the time)

A lens from a pair of broken sunglasses. Ah ha! I've been looking for that.

Keys to the convertible. Ok, it's a Holden Astra convertible but it still rocks!

Lip Balm. The really serious stuff that you have to use when you have wind burnt lips. Ouchie!

iPhone. How did I become so addicted to this little baby?? I once hated phones and resented having to carry one with me for my work. Now I get withdrawal symptoms if I leave it at home.

Head phones. Doomed, as I seem to break a set of these every few weeks.

Mints, because we can't go around with onion breath. (truth is I don't care about onion breath, I just like the taste of them).

Hairbrush. I'm not sure why I bother as I have disobedient hair that ignores any attempt to make it respectable.

Two Golf Tees. No idea why. One should be enough.

Memory stick. You never know when you need to copy international secrets you can sell the Russians

Lipstick. 24k Pink. Sparkly and pretty.

Various Stationary:
           Three and a half pens (two purchased, one stolen and the half … dunno)
           Highlighter (stolen)
           Two Pencils (both stolen)
           An eraser (stolen)

15c Would this have fallen out of the broken zip on the broken purse? I think so.

I'm a little surprised it's not worse. No spaceships and only a few small bison that didn't rate a mention. What does this say about me? It tells the world that I nick stationary. Oh well, gotta have a vice so it might as well be practical.

The joy doesn't end here folks! There's more!

Caz has really made my day by flicking a Sunshine Award my way. WooHoo!

I'm passing these two gems onto my newest friend in the blogo-universe:

Mr TransAM 76 at Reef Adventures.

Mr TransAm 76 (AKA the delightful Robert) has bought much sunshine into my life this week by assisting me in extracting a chunk of money from the Government. Yay for the good guys!

Come on Robert, I want to know what you have hidden away in your handbag.

The Hurt Locker

2010-02-22T11:48:00.008+11:00

Have you heard of the film “The Hurt Locker”? No? Me neither. So it came as a bit of a surprise yesterday when I found myself watching the opening scenes. How did I get here?

Good question. It was one of the more painful trips to the cinema. Off to a bad start, we were late leaving and it was always going to be a rush to get there. Five minutes to go before show time we were in sight of the cinema and only one thing stood in our way: The Mardi Gras Fair. D'oh! Traffic ground to a standstill and there wasn't a parking space for miles. Bugger. There was an upside: - anything to do with Mardi Gras is great for people-watching while being stuck in the largest traffic snarl this side of the moon.

Switch to Plan B. With no way of being able to make the 4:50pm session we decided to try a later session at a cinema in the city. There was always parking available in the city on a Sunday. What could possible go wrong? Chinese New Year Parade. D'oh! After several laps around the city we found a parking station with spaces available. They, however, failed to mention that the last remaining spaces were actual barricaded off and were part of a construction area. D'oh! It was about now I had a spectacular sense of humour failure. There was no construction occurring at 5pm on a Sunday, so to the delight of the line of cars behind me who were equally screwed, I got out of the car and removed the barriers. Viva la revolution!

Kung Hei Fat Choy to
all the tigers out there

Having secured a car park, we were left with one small hurdle: we were on one side of the road, the cinema was on the other side of the road and the Chinese New Year Parade was in the middle. D'oh! One of the great things about Sydney is, in an attempt to squeeze as much real estate value out of a single piece of land, there is always an underground shopping mall that can be used if you need to dodge the traffic.

While the journey to the cinema was very exciting, this blog posting is actually a film review. The Hurt Locker is a war film set in Iraq. I've seen a number of these types of films lately but this one was different. It refreshingly didn't take sides or push the anti-American “you really screwed this one up” stance. The focus of the film is on a team of bomb disposal unit technicians. They are nearing the end of their tour in Iraq when a new team leader joins the unit. The new leader, Staff Sergeant William James, has a different approach to bomb disposal which leaves him at odds with the rest of his crew. This creates tension in an already impossibly tense working environment.

Image from here

Is James a bomb disposal genius or is he a reckless red-neck who is endangering his team? As the film shows you more of his character you begin to see the complexities of the situation and you begin to wonder how these men can ever return home to live a normal life.

At times this is difficult film to watch, but like many difficult tasks, the rewards are great. I felt I was watching a modern-day game of Russian Roulette as these men daily face death while clearing bombs. The suspense makes it impossible to look away. The screen writer is a journalist who spent time embedded in a bomb unit while in Iraq and there is an authentic look and feel to the film. It's one of those films that you find yourself thinking about a week later. The Hurt Locker made an enormous impact on me and, if you are looking for a film to make you think, I recommend it.

If I had to compare this film to a food it would be Wild Salmon – top shelf brain food.

Check out the film website if you want to know more.

So Slow...

2010-02-21T11:44:00.010+11:00

Ahhh Sunday. Sunday is the day when I indulge myself with relaxation and coffee. Everything is peaceful (except one of the cats which having a bunny chasing dream and is making a weird howling noise. I can ignore this.) As I sit of my deck, I'm surrounded by bird song and the sound of boats traveling along a nearby river (and weird cat howls. Maybe I can't ignore this).

There are so many things I want to get done today:

Finish the garden watering system I was mid way through installing when I was interrupted by the best rain we have had in four years.
There is a mountain of ironing that has finally grown so high that I can't continue to look above it and pretend it's not here without putting my neck out of joint.
I have paperwork strewn all over this office, all of which is well past the due date.
My car needs washing. (i.e. I need to pay someone to wash my car)

Let's get realistic, none of this is going to happen. It's Sunday and I really can't be bothered. I think I'll just catch up on what is happening in blog-land and then have a little lay down.

I love Sundays.

The cat howls are starting to freak me out.

Sand in My Shoes

2010-02-18T13:30:00.008+11:00

I've just taken my mother to the airport for her latest adventure and I'm suffering from a case of wanderlust. My mother is on her way to India. I'm so impressed she is going. She knows it will push her out of her comfort zone and she can't wait. I'm left thinking that I have been sitting in my comfort zone for a while now. It's been two years since my last big holiday and, since I'm no longer working, right now seems like a really good time for another trip.

Two years ago I wanted a tropical holiday. Hot weather, palm trees, coral reefs and friendly locals. Maldives seemed like the perfect place. As I did some research, however, I began to realise that it wasn't the holiday I was after. I didn't want to go to a resort where you spend all day by the pool sipping cocktails. I know it sounds wonderful but I would last five minutes before I would be bored witless. I like adventure holidays and I like mixing with the locals.

I abandoned the luxury part of the tropical holiday and went for hardcore adventure: Scuba Diving in Papua New Guinea. PNG is one of the best diving locations in the world and the plan was to spend ten days diving from an island followed by ten days sailing around on a boat. Living on a boat for ten days was going to be a challenge as I get horribly sea sick so we decided to travel to the island of New Britain which was a little more sheltered and the sea was less likely to be rough.

First night was in Port Moresby where we were told not to leave the hotel because it was too dangerous. Good start! The following morning we landed in New Britain in an aircraft that I think was actually a flying lawnmower. We were met by a guide who seemed excited that our flight had made it to the island. Some goose (American Army in WWII) thought it was a good idea to build the runway at the base of a dormant volcano. Sixty years later the volcano is no longer dormant and flights get turned away if there is too much smoke and ash coming out of it. Strangely this was not mentioned in any of the brochures.

Around this point I begin to realise that I'm not in Kansas any more. This is going to a wild trip and maybe I need to take some care. This feeling of caution lasted about 30 seconds. The guide stopped outside a local market to buy himself some cigarettes. The safe option was to stay in the van. Yeah, right, I was going to do that. Ha! With my very expensive camera draped around my neck and a “mug me” sign pinned to my forehead, the blond chick decide she was not going to miss a chance to visit a local market. In minutes every set of eyes was following me and I was thinking this may have been a mistake. At the centre of the market I saw a very seedy looking guy selling tobacco. Hidden under the tobacco leaves I could see he was also the local dope supplier. I figured if I was going to get mugged I might as well get a good photo of this before. I pulled out my camera and the strangest thing happened.

Hooch Dude and his stoner matesA hundred sets of eyes which has been following me with suspicion suddenly lit up with joy. A camera! Take my photo! Take my photo! The guide books failed to mention that if you want to make instant friends with the locals all you have to do is ask if you can take their picture. I was swamped by welcoming people with beaming smiles. It took me forty five minutes to take everybody's photo and I only managed to leave when I told everybody I had run out of film. It is fortunate for me the locals were not too familiar with the working of a digital camera.

From this point on I never had the slightest reason to be concerned for my safety. For three weeks I saw some breathtaking scenery, met generous and welcoming locals and dived on some of the most specular reefs that can be found on this planet. And I only got sea sick once*.

I have so many memories about this holiday, it is hard to stop here. I will save the stories about how I corrupted an entire village of kids with stickers or how a Green Turtle became amorous with my partner at 20 meters below the surface of the water for another blog.

So where to next? I'm feeling an itch in my feet and a need to explore. I'm thinking Cambodia and Vietnam. I also have a longing to travel to Egypt, Syria and Jordan. Give me some ideas and let me know about any amazing places you have visited or would love to visit.

* it's remotely possible that I was actually hung-over not sea sick.

~:~
After writing this I revisited the photos my photos from PNG and thought I would share some of my favorites with you. Sorry if they are a bit slow to load.

Green Turtle that tried to shag Matthew. (understandable as Matthew is quite pretty)

Kids playing football at low tide. The boat in the background was my home for ten days.

When we anchored near an island local women would paddle out to sell fresh fruit and vegetables.

Spinner Dolphins playing in the bow wave.

Sunset at Kimbe Bay

White Tip Reef Shark.

One of the amazing kids we met at the Witu Islands.

Me watching a school of Barracuda

Collecting mussles at sunset.

End of The Quest

2010-02-15T13:05:00.001+11:00

I've been on a quest. I have previously posted about my search for the perfect hairdresser. It has been a long and arduous search littered with traumatic experiences and very dodgy hair styles.

Today I believe I have reached the end of my quest. I walked out of a hair salon this morning without the feeling of frustration and annoyance. It was wonderful. Finally I was happy with the end result.

So many ticks of approval:

I was straight into the chair as soon as I arrived. No double booking or sitting around waiting to be squeezed in between someone else's colour and cut. I was on time and so was my hairdresser. Ok, I admit I had the first appointment of the morning, but hey, some of the hairdressers I have been to during the search have still managed to screw this up.

My hairdresser understood me. I don't speak the same language as hairdressers and have enormous difficulties explaining what I want. When asked what I would like to have done, I froze-up as usual and mumbled
“It's kinda flat. Can you make it un-flat”.
She responded with “Yep, I can do that. Would you like flicky bits and well as un-flat”
"Flicky bits" is a term I understand. As promised, I now have flicky bits on my un-flat parts.

Decent coffee is a simple but effective way to make me love you forever. Bring me a second cup (with extra biscuits) and I'm your slave for life.

It took me a while to realise why I was feeling incredibly calm: No gossipy chatter. My hairdresser didn't feel the need to engage me in a conversation about size of Beyonce's bum or how Brad is better off without that skanky ho (something I have no opinion on). It was bliss.

The pièce de résistance: a massage chair. Oh happiness!! I was so relaxed I could have wet myself with joy. But wait, it gets better: a head massage that was just right. Too often the head massage is a wimpy little pat. Come on, don't be afraid to do a bit of damage. Dig your fingers in and see of you can get me beg for mercy. Make it feel really good when you stop.

Only one little negative:

The choice of radio station leaves much to be desired. Tuning in to the commercial radio stations can be a little dangerous when the host is a true bottom feeder. This guy (I will not sully my blog with his name) is lower than pond scum. The only reason I didn't put my fist through the radio was I was drooling uncontrollably in the massage chair and couldn't get my legs to function properly.

I'm now sitting at home with my marvellous flicky, un-flat hair. What a waste! This hair needs to be taken out on the town. I have party hair with nowhere to go. Can I go out tonight? No. I have to go to a committee meeting with a bunch of old crusties. Tragedy! I think I'll wear a short skirt and see if I can cause a heart-attack or two.

Honest Scrap (or Ten Things You Really Need to Know)

2010-02-13T17:58:00.000+11:00

Two blogs in one day ... blogging frenzy!

A while ago Jacinta at Live Life Now sent me an Honest Scrap Award. Since then I have been drafting my list of 10 little known things about myself. Kinda tough since I tend to tell everybody everything about myself (regardless of their level of interest). It's taken me a while to finally decide on ten fascinating things about me that I know you have all be dying to know.

1. Somehow I managed to be in Berlin when the Berlin Wall came down. Accident. I was backpacking around Europe and hadn't read a newspaper for months. I didn't have enough money to pay for a bed for that night so I caught the first overnight train to anywhere which I could sleep on. It just happened to be going to Berlin and it was November 1989.

2. I fell in the fish pond at my Aunt's wedding. I was little and the fish pond was so interesting. My sister and I were flower girls at the wedding being held at the German Embassy in Canberra. All very posh. I was all frocked up in some glorious pink number and was happily milking the “awww, isn't she cute” routine. Not so cute after being fished out of the pond looking like a drowned rat.

3. I represented Australia at the Eurovision song contest. Hang on, this one isn't true. Do they have to be true things? Probably. I better change it to: I always wanted to be a professional singer. This was always going to be a challenge considering my complete lack of talent in the vocal department. I can still do a kick-arse air guitar.

4. I dislike brussel sprouts. Nasty little things have no reason being on this earth.

5. At nine months old I started walking. I have been running into things ever since. I have been told my clumsiness can be attributed to me not bothering with the crawling phase. Personally I think it has more to do with me not watching where I am going.

6. There are tigers in my back yard. Well, I think there might be but it is such a goddamn mess back there that I really can't be sure. My backyard has gone feral and I'm not brave enough to clean it up. I'm thinking of getting the Air Force to drop some napalm in there.

7. I was the backstroke champion at my junior high school. I was also the only person at my school who could swim backstroke. (It was a very small school).

8. I would like to work at the United Nations. It drives me nuts that an organisation that has the potential to be an amazing global unifying force is run by a bunch of bureaucrats. If I could just get in there and crack a few skulls together it would be running like clockwork by lunch time. Maybe I'm being a little naive?

9. I was the Tamworth Connect Four champion some time in the early eighties. Connect Four is a game where you try to be the first player to line up four coloured disks. I had the game at home and was a bit of a legend at it. A shop in Tamworth was holding a Connect Four competition and I only entered because I had nothing better to do. I left a trail of kids crying for their mummy as I swept all other competitors away. My prize for this amazing feat … I won a Connect Four game. So worth the effort. Not.

10. After all this time I still have the biggest crush on Harrison Ford. Oh Harrison, you can fly my space ship any time.

I'm going to cheat a little and hold on to this award for a while. I'm going to wait until it goes all quiet on the award front before I surprise a worthy recipient. So everybody has to be super-nice to me until then.

Circle of Friends

2010-02-13T14:41:00.005+11:00

I've not been able to get to my blog very often in the last few weeks. Too much has been happening in the non-cyber world. The few times I have been online I have spent the entire time catching up with everybody else's blogs. Wow, you guys can write! I don't want to miss any of the witty, inspired and heart-felt blogs I follow. I often read posts that cause me to stop and think about life in a different way. I love the belly-laughs and the things that make me go “awww, isn't that sweet”. I have been astounded by the connection I feel with people in the blog-sphere and it is a good time for me to respond to an award sent my way by glorious bride-to-be Kelly at Kellyansapansa.

The Circle of Friends Award is a way I can recognise a small handful of the blogs that always manage to make my day. Normally I don't like to duplicate award recipients but I think this one is a little different as I see it as a thank you and you can never receive too many of them.

Jacinta the fishing widow at Live Life Now who introduced me to blogging. This is all your fault!

Leanne at Deep Fried Fruit. I'm living the “Recently Turned 40 Dream” with you.

MadMother at Meaningless Meandering from a Madmother who used the most gorgeous picture in history on a recent blog.

Mrs P at A Study in Contradictions. I love a book review and we seem to have similar taste in books. Keep 'em coming

It's sad that there are not enough bytes in my computer to recognise all the blogs that rock my world. When talking to fleshy people about the things I read in your blogs I often find myself saying “a friend was telling me the other day ….”

Thanks everybody.

Out with the Old.

2010-02-08T10:34:00.006+11:00

I'm sure I wasn't nagging but I did lay down the law. The Boy wanted to buy a spiffy new toy for his golf. It's not just a spiffy new toy, it is a spiffy expensive toy. He can have his new toy if he sells his some of his old toys on eBay. There was a little tantrum but we had a deal.

After disappearing into man-land (the garage) for a while he finally emerged with the sacrificial toys: five golf clubs and two amplifiers. He gave them one last hug, shed a tear and listed them all for a seven day auction.

It's been a long week. The eBay summary screen has been constantly monitored for the last seven days and we have been riding an emotional roller-coaster while waiting to see if somebody else can love his ~~crap~~ toys as much as he does.

Monday: Rejection - “Nobody has bid on anything”
Tuesday: Excitement - “I have a bid!!”
Wednesday: Joy - “Both amplifiers have bids and there is someone there who looks like he really wants them”
Thursday: Dejection: “Nobody is bidding on the golf clubs”
Friday Morning: Elation - “People have started bidding on the golf clubs!!!”
Friday Afternoon: Anger - “Some dude has only bid 99c for one of my clubs and it is worth heaps more than that.”
“Did you put a reserve price on it?”
“No”
“Duh”
Saturday: Greed - “Everything has bids and I think I'm going to get more money than I expected”
Sunday Afternoon: Disinterest: “My auctions all finished sometime this afternoon. I might go and check them later.”
Sunday Night: Panic - “People have started to pay me. How am I going to mail a golf club?”

The Boy has managed to raise almost $500. Add this to all the coins he had stuffed in his top draw as well as some Christmas money and he is now flushed with funds. He is strutting around the house and is feeling pretty damn pleased with himself. There was a real smugness in his voice when he informed me that now he has enough money to buy himself a really good GPS for his golf and he can afford to buy another cheap one for me. I'm awash with gratitude.

Maybe it's time for me to sell some of my precious collectors items? The experience has bought out a mercenary streak in me and I've been digging around the back of cupboards looking for anything covered in dust that could use a new home.

Is it wrong to sell the cats on eBay?
I'd probably have to pay someone to take them and they would still manage to find their way home.

Late Note:-
Not long after I published this blog I received a series of emails:
eBay: Bidding Closing Soon on Graphite Driver
ebay: Congratulations on Winning Graphite Driver
ebay: Payment Instructions for Graphite Driver.

After selling five golf clubs he never used it would appear that the Boy has gone and bought another one on eBay.
The gloves come off.

I'm Too Old for Homework

2010-02-01T22:18:00.001+11:00

One of the joys of a mid life crisis is you get to do things you always wanted to do when you were a kid but never got the opportunity. Everybody is so scared of you that nobody will be honest and tell you it's a dumb idea and you are too old. This is a good thing as their opinions don't matter.

My mid life crisis has been a long and drawn out affair and I'm nowhere near finished yet. So far I have quit my job, bought a convertible car, attended art classes, starting wearing Converse shoes and I am learning how to play the guitar.

Learning the guitar had been something I have wanted to do since I was a kid. I was given a guitar for my seventh birthday. I made several attempts to teach myself from badly photocopied books and failed miserably. Finally my guitar was given away to a younger cousin and I moved on with my life.

Fast forward many, many years to the present time. I decide to give it another go. Armed with a new three quarter sized classical guitar I start to take group lessons. I probably should warn you before we go any further that I'm not musically inclined. Not even slightly. Since I have started learning to play my neighbours have put their house on the market twice, the cats now leave the room when I practice and I've stop bothering to tune the guitar as it doesn't seem to make a whole lot of difference to the noise I create. In short, my playing will make your ears bleed.

Group lessons are great. Ten raw beginners making a hideous cacophony of sound. I'm sure if you look carefully you will be able to see the paint on the walls trying to peel itself off so it can leave the room. It was easy for me to hide my lack of talent and ability when there are nine other people who suck as much as me.

I was able to learn some basics but if I wanted to make any real progress then I needed one-on-one lessons. I found a lovely young lady who gives lessons near my home and have been getting tuition from her since late last year.

Today was my first lesson after the Christmas break. In the final lesson last year I was given homework which I ignored until yesterday. This is standard operating procedure for me: leave things to the last minute only to realise I have completely underestimated the amount of time needed. I was screwed. There was no way I was going to be able to learn the new song in time. I was getting flashbacks of having to write lines in school detention.

Homework in not an optional extracurricular activity.

100 times in my neatest handwriting.

There was no way out of it. I was just going to have to admit I'd done bugger all in the last month. I braced myself for the look of disappointment and the stern lecture telling me that I will never amount to anything if I'm not going to try.

The strangest thing happened.

During the Christmas break my tutor had thought it would be a good idea to shave off most of her hair and dye whatever was left white with occasional patches of pink. I was craving approval from a kid who looked like a plucked chicken. She probably couldn't care less if I did my homework or not. I'm an adult and I don't have to do my homework if I don't want to!!

No, I was wrong. My tutor gave me a disapproving look and gave me a much harder song to learn for next week.

I need to go and practice now.

The Blogies.

2010-01-28T19:29:00.003+11:00

Before I dazzle you all with another blogging masterpiece (some times I even amaze myself), I have an update to my anti-job hunting blog from a few days ago.

I had a second job interview yesterday and I was determined not to make the same mistake I made in the first interview. This time I was trying to be unimpressive. I really don't want to go back to work and I only went to the interview because I can never say no to anybody (a genetic disposition, thanks Mum). I was sure I had managed to be completely forgettable and was so brutally honest about my short comings that I now think I need some self-improvement classes. I walked out of the interview feeling pretty pleased with myself. Nobody in their right mind would want to employ me.

This morning I received a call from the employment agent:
"Great News! They're really keen on you and want you to come in today for a third interview."

Oh FFS!!!

Time for me to stop messing around. I have withdrawn my job application and have asked the agent not to call me unless he has a short term contract paying stupidly high rates.

But I digress …

I'm a little late in responding to a wonderful award sent my way by MadMother which she called the Blogies. I'm hoping she will still drop by and have a read while she is on her blogging hiatus.

When accepting an award you should always do an acceptance speech:

That's great. Thanks. Please don't tell the company I am trying not to get a job with that I got an award.

Ok, so I'm no Kate Winslet.

This award lets me tell you about five things I love. There is no way I could tell you about the people in my life that I love in just five points so I'm going to stick to superficial things that rock my world.

1. I Love Slushies.

As a kid slushies were meant it was the summer holidays. You couldn't buy them in the rural area where I grew up and I only ever had them when I travelled to the coast to visit my grandparents. Imagine my joy when I moved to Sydney to find you can buy slushies at service stations. I could have a brain freeze any time I wanted. It was worth getting a car just so I could buy them when I needed petrol. Last year I reached a pinnacle of slushy joy by buying my partner his own home slushy maker for Christmas. ~~I wanted it so badly~~. I knew he would want one.

2. I Love Political Arguments.
For the sake of a good argument I will happily switch political allegiances so I can take an opposing view. The beauty of a political argument is nobody can actually win since all political views have faults and none are perfect. They can go on forever. If you're really lucky you can change sides mid-argument without anybody noticing. Just remember to duck when the punches start flying.

3. I Love Mosques and Churches.

I'm not in any way religious but these buildings amaze me. I'm lucky to have travelled around Europe and some of the Middle East and I have seen some incredible buildings. The feeling of awe I experienced walking into the Blue Mosque in Istanbul will stay with me forever.

4. I Love Books.
I'm not fussy, I will read anything I can get my hands on. I usually read three or four books at the same time because I get so excited about a new book that I start to read it before I have finished the old one. I can get a bit bloody minded and won't admit defeat with a book. I have been reading Anna Karenina for about 18 years now. This year I can take it drinking with me.

5. I Love Laughter.

I have a loud laugh (think of a donkey bray crossed with a chainsaw) and I would get very self-concious when people commented on it. Happily I'm not so precious now. Screw it, I'll laugh as loud as I like. I enjoy hearing others laugh, no matter how unorthodox the sound. A dear friend is a snorter and I know I have had a good night out if she is snorting uncontrollably into her beer. It's a beautiful sight.

I also love reading snippets of people's lives in the blog-sphere. I'm enjoying reading about Caz from The Truth About Mummy and I would like to pass this award on to her. I hope all goes well for her with starting big school.

Happy Australia Day

2010-01-26T20:24:00.001+11:00

I celebrated Australia Day with a bush walk in the Royal National Park.

Grey Spider Flower (Grevillea Buxifolia)

I'm completely exhausted. Can't engage my brain to write anything else.

Why am I Doing This?

2010-01-25T10:18:00.004+11:00

Is it bad to go to a job interview when you have no intention of taking the job if it is offered to you? Why is it so important to me that I impress the pants off the interviewer when I shouldn't give a toss what they think of me?

These are the questions that have been haunting me for the last few days. Let me give you some background....

I have been contacted by a head hunter. It's a bit of an ego trip for me being head hunted. Someone out there thinks I'm worth employing. He first contacted me shortly after I left my old job last year and I was quick to tell him I had no intention of looking for work until the new year. This was my first mistake and I should have defined when in the new year I was talking about. He interpreted 'New Year' as 2nd January. I was thinking more like late March. My bad, I shouldn't assume everybody is as casual about dates as I am.

Feeling guilty about not being clear on my how long my current state of lethargy was going to last, I allowed myself to be talked into going to an interview last Friday for a job I don't want. I haven't been to a job interview in about 15 years so I thought I could do with some practice for when I do decide that I can be bothered going back to work.

Rather than relieving my guilt, I found I was feeling worse about wasting everybody's time. I discussed this with a friend and he assured me it was ok as the company in question is known for interviewing candidates only to get enough people to make a statistical selection. My ego deflates a little at this point.

The night before the interview I start worrying about what I'm going to wear and how professional I should look. I choose a skirt that I thought looked particularly smart only to be told
“you can't wear that. You look like you're going shopping”
Ego deflates a little more.

I reach into the forgotten land at the back of my wardrobe and find one of my old work outfits. Ok, I'll put the monkey suit on again. Hmm, I don't remember these trousers being quite so snug. Ego is now the size of a peanut.

I dig up my beautiful leather portfolio to carry all my documents. It always made me look so professional. I would walk into meetings and flip my portfolio open showing reams of well though out notes I had prepared earlier. It's fortunate that nobody actually read the notes:
* Ring AB to arrange lunch
* PC thinks the No. 5 horse running in the 2nd race at Flemington is a dead certainty.
* Nail polish is coming off the toes on the left foot – arrange pedicure

I find my beautiful leather portfolio has been put to a new use since I left the corporate world. The feral cats that have taken ownership of my house have been using it as a scratching post. Apparently sharpening one's claws on leather is so much more appealing than using the carpet covered scratching post that was supplied for that purpose.

The day of the interview I join the rat race and catch the train to the city. I'm dressed in my very professional (albeit snug) outfit with my mangled portfolio and I am sweltering in a train carriage without air-conditioning on the hottest day of summer. I'm thinking cool thoughts and trying not to wipe the perspiration off my face because all my make-up is going to go with it.

Finally the interview starts. It's a panel of three people all looking very cool and casual in jeans and t-shirts.
“We have a casual dress policy here.”
Something you could have told me YESTERDAY!!!!!

After about five minutes I realise I am hopelessly over-qualified. I could do the job with my pinky and go for morning tea when I have finished. I would be bored. Realising this I should have stopped and told them but I couldn't help myself. I had this need to impress them and went through the entire interview explaining why I would be perfect for the job and how they couldn't possibly function without me. By now my ego is completely gone and I'm starting to hate myself.

I am now hoping desperately that my interviewers think I talk too much (a correct conclusion) and that I would be loud and disruptive because I am bored (comments which consistently appeared on my school reports from the age of 5). I'm now trying to work out at what point I can gracefully withdraw from the whole process.

Footnote
As I was finishing this blog the employment agent called me.
“They loved you. They thought your energy would be perfect for the job. Can you do a second interview this week?”
“They loved me? How wonderful” I gushed.

I am going for the second interview.

I hate myself.

Happiness 101

2010-01-21T16:58:00.007+11:00

There is a downside to blogging with no pants on: Sooner or later you are going to get busted. Today was my turn. There is a courier roaming the streets of Sydney who is going to need years of therapy to recover from having to deliver a parcel to my house. In my defense, it's really hot today.

That, however, is not the topic for today's blog. Today I am responding to the Happiness 101 Blog Award given to me by the delightful Kellyansapansa. I am going to share with you 10 things that make me happy.

There are not enough foot massages in the world. Foot massages are one of my favorite things. While working in banking we would have security training where we were told that everybody has their price. Well, this is my price. If you want the front door keys and safe combinations, the promise of a good foot massage will do the trick.

There is no such thing as bad chocolate. There is chocolate that is not as nice as other chocolate but all chocolate is good.
I have become strangely addicted to Professional Bull Riding lately. This warrants a blog in it's own right in the future so I will elaborate then. (this is just a teaser)
I'm a Pisces which may explain my love of water. Rivers, lakes, the ocean and even water running down the gutter. I am drawn towards it. Sadly so are my golf balls.
I have not yet shared with you my love for playing golf. Golf makes me happy in a strange way. It treats me very badly week in and week out so when I finally manage to play a good game it is pure bliss. I think it may actually be an abusive relationship.

I'm a child of the 80's and 80's music will always bring a smile to my face. Big hair and synthesizers will hold a special place in my heart forever.
How could I have a list of happiness providers and not include my family? We all live a long way away from each other so it's pretty damn special when we manage to get together. I would like to point out that Jacinta at Live Life Now cheats at croquet.

It would be remiss of me not to include my partner Matthew on my happiness list. He is my straight man who lets me have the punch lines and laughs at my jokes even when they are not that funny. He has the patience of a saint to put up with me when I start bouncing off the walls. He bought me flowers yesterday and I'm not even going to try and work out what he has done that he feels guilty about.

Time to share a daggy secret: Karaoke makes me happy. I'm a rubbish singer but there is something about throwing your inhibitions aside and ripping out a mono-tune version of Like a Virgin. Alcohol helps. Cheap champagne is the best.
As I sit on my deck with a beautiful view over bushland (with pants on now), I realise that my life makes me happy. I am so lucky to live where I do and be surrounded by wonderful people. There is so much pain and sorrow in this world and I have the amazing fortune to have a wonderful life. I didn't do anything to deserve it but I was born lucky.

Now you all know source of my happiness. A good, supportive blogger would pass this on to 10 other bloggers. I'm going to award this to Jacinta at Live Life Now. I will surprise 9 other bloggers at a later date. If I pass it on now someone will write a better list and I'll end up insanely jealous. I can be so petty.

Picture of the Year (Lazy Photographer Division)

2010-01-18T12:28:00.001+11:00

I've stopped sulking about the cleaner not turning up. I have taken the good advice I received. A path has been created through the chaos I created. I'm keeping my eyes above it all and I can make it through another week.

Jacinta at Live Life Now made me go through all my photos from the last year to find my favorite snap. It made me realise 2009 was a bit of a photography wasteland and I didn't take my camera out very often. Last year was not one of the better years for me so I'm not going to beat myself up about it. 2010 is going to be different. Time to get snap happy.

From the few photos I have from 2009 this one really struck a chord with me. I love the simplicity of it. It was taken at Bronte and is a picture of one of the displays at Sculpture by the Sea. The sculpture is call Morpheus and each of the yellow blobs (artistic description) were rotating in a different direction when caught by the wind. It was captivating to watch as it constantly changed it's shape. I'm wildly envious of anybody who can create something so unique.

Now, to share the love, I'm going to pass this onto

Kellyansapansa

I'm sure you have some great photos from 2009 that will inspire me to get off my bum and dust off my camera.

Despair

2010-01-15T19:00:00.003+11:00

I'm filled with despair.

I have looked forward to this moment for weeks and now I feel so let down.

I'm inconsolable.

Totally devastated.

Life has lost all meaning.

I though the cleaners were back from holidays today but now I realise they are back next week.

I'm too distraught to say more because I made a special “welcome back” mess for them and now I will have to deal with this myself.

and if you are wondering,
Yes, I am a lazy cow who has no job but kept the cleaners. I don't know how I live with myself.

Lessons

2010-01-14T11:00:00.004+11:00

It should have been a fun night out. I wanted to go to a Twenty20 Cricket match last night. A few hours of excitement and drama from watching men in their pj's playing irresponsible cricket. What could go wrong? Just about everything.

The evening started well. I thought it would be ok to drive to the Olympic stadium when the match was being played. By taking a sneaky back road we missed all of Sydney's usual 6pm gridlock. If you are familiar with Sydney traffic you will know this is quite an achievement. We were within sight of the stadium and as we reached the top of a hill my heart sank. The last kilometre to the stadium was traffic pandemonium. Nobody was going anywhere.

Lesson No 1: you can never beat Sydney traffic. Until we get really cool hover cars that can fly over peak hour gridlock, Sydneysiders are doomed to spend a large chunk of their lives sitting impatiently in a traffic jam.

I'm stuck in traffic but I refuse to let this ruin my night. “It's ok” I tell myself. “There's lots of time and we are not late yet”. I'm starting to feel a little better when the sky in front of me is split with the perfect bolt of lightening. Several more bolts of lightening and a clap of thunder that is so close it goes right through you and the heavens opens. First the big fat rain drops that you get at the start of the storm. This was followed by a steady downpour that didn't feel like it was going anywhere. Not good for cricket.

Lesson No 2:- when every weather report you look at advises it is going to rain maybe you should actually believe them.

Still stuck in the traffic and watching the downpour, I am still trying to be positive.
“It's ok” I tell myself. “We are now late but the rain will delay the start of the game so we won't miss anything”.
We are inching towards the parking station and things are looking good. I'm sure the rain will clear. Thunderstorms don't hang around too long. For all my many faults, I have great eyesight so I was able to see the “Parking Full” signs long before anybody else.

Lesson No 3:- Check to see if there is anything else on at Homebush before you decide to take a gamble on the parking. If both the Tennis and a concert are on as well maybe rethink your strategy.

The nearest car park is a kilometre away. The same distance we had just crawled through the traffic from hell. We fought our way into the parking stations just as the “Parking Full” sign was going up and grabbed the second last park available. Now for the long up-hill walk back to the stadium.
Lesson No 4 – If you choose to ignore Lesson No 2, take an umbrella.

At last, we arrive at the stadium. I am dripping wet but the rain is easing and it looks like we will get to see a game. Just as we are taking our seats an announcement is made telling us the game had been reduced to nine overs per side. The game had been shortened so much that our travel time to the game has been longer than the actual match. I naively thought that they would reduce the overs a little and extend the finishing time.
Lesson 5: Spectators verses television commitments = Spectators lose

If you go to watch sport, you have to have a hot dog. We braved the queues to see what we could get. All that was left were hot chips. Chicken burgers would be ready in five minutes if we wanted to wait.
     “That would be the $8 chicken burgers? What do you get in an $8 chicken burger?” I ask.
     “A piece of chicken” was the reply.
     “That's ok, I just have the $5.50 bucket of chips. I'm having to dip into my superannuation for this”
Lesson 6:- You know that the food is overpriced and lousy quality at the stadium. When are you going to learn this one???

I'm cold and wet but finally watching irresponsible action packed cricket. This, however, was the final insult. New South Wales, the team I came to cheer along, were pathetic. They scored the lowest total in the history of the competition. I was witness to a moment of history I could do without.
Lesson 7:- Sport is a commodity than had been designed for television. Stop trying to fight the system and watch it at home in the dry comfort of your lounge room. If the team you are cheering for play the worst game in history, turn off the TV and go to bed

Dumb Things

2010-01-10T14:04:00.003+11:00

The Paul Kelly song sums me up so well:

Welcome, strangers, to the show

I'm the one who should be lying low

Saw the knives out, turned my back

Heard the train coming, stayed out on the track

In the middle, in the middle, in the middle of a dream

I lost my shirt, I pawned my rings

I've done all the dumb things

My 2010 Anti-Resolution is a look back at 2009 in the hope that I will not repeat some of the dumb things I did.

Don't change the CD when driving backwards down a steep curved driveway.
My bad. I know I wasn't paying attention. I'm sure it makes me a bad person but, as it wasn't my car that I put a major scratch down the side, I'm not loosing much sleep over this. It was a company car and I figure they expect dumb stuff like this.

My bigger concern was what I used to put the large scratch in the car: My house.
Yes, I managed to side-swipe one of the supporting beams that holds up the deck and the front of the house. Not good.

Select Face Book Friends wisely.
Several times this year I have become FaceBook friends with people I wouldn't recognise if I saw them on the street. I feel guilty about ignoring friend requests. It's feels like having a puppy rush up to you wanting to play and I've slapped it away. Time to harden up and start ignoring people.

There appears to be a rule in FaceBook: he who dies with the most friends wins. That can be the only explanation for these people wanting me as a friend particularly a teenage second cousin who had only met me three times. I'm not even sure we speak the same language because I don't understand anything she says.

I've also noticed that the people FaceBook suggests as friends are the same people you are avoiding like the plague. FaceBook is just messing with me.

Don't try to save money by attempting home veterinarian techniques.

Let me stress here my intentions were noble even if the results were less than satisfactory. One of the cats which have taken over my house (AKA: The Ferals) had got into a fight (again) and come off second best. Like a good pet owner I rushed her off to the vets for repairs thinking this will be simple to fix with a couple stitches and won't cost too much. So very wrong.

After a month with numerous hospital stays, two lots of surgery and many replacement stitches, I had a shaved cat that was rapidly loosing weight. The problem was the Elizabethan Collar she had to wear to stop her from ripping out the stitches (again). I wasn't concerned that the collar messed up her judgement and she would run into doors, walls, chairs, stairs and owners as she walked around. Actually it was kinda funny. (Bad Bad Pet Owner!!) The problem was as she tried to eat anything the collar would scoop all the food out of the bowl and into a little pile in front of her tantalisingly out of her reach. It was pitiful to watch.

The collar had to go but how do I stop her from ripping her stitches out? And that is when the brilliant idea hit me: A body stocking. Cut the ends off an old stocking and shove the cat through the middle. I still maintain the theory was good. The damaged Feral does not agree. She was not happy. Not happy and armed with razor wire for claws. The body stocking was quickly removed when we eventually we managed to catch her.

Don't change the ingredients.
2009 was the year I got into baking in a big way. It was just a phase I was going through and I'm over it now. After trying a recipe a couple times I would get a little creative and change things around. Unfortunately I'm not a very creative person. This resulted in some of the greatest cooking disasters in culinary history. The low point was the patty cakes that turned out like sea sponge when I decided that the world needed much more bicarb soda. I don't even know what bicarb soda does but it seemed like a good idea at the time

Don't tell your boss which orifice he can shove your job in the middle of a financial crisis.

Financial doom and gloom was sweeping the planet, unemployment was ballooning and stock markets were plunging so this must be the perfect time for me to get on my high horse and tell my boss I'm not going to put up with the crap any more.

I walked away from a secure, well paying job with no idea what I was going to do with myself. I always have a plan and a back up plan (I admit sometimes not well thought out) but this time I just walked away.

But is this really one of my dumbest achievements of 2009?
No. It was one of the smartest things I have ever done. I put life before money and I hope I make decisions like this for the rest of my life.

I resolve not to repeat my 2009 list of dumb things. 2010 is the start of a new decade and it deserves a fresh and new list of dumb things and I'm sure I will be able to live up to that challenge.

Welcome to the show!

Because I Can

2010-01-08T11:52:00.001+11:00

I found this picture a week ago and have been trying to think of a way of incorporating it into the brain dump that forms my blog.

Sadly there are no penguins or polar bears in my life this week so I'm just going to post it as it is.

I'm even more impressed with the penguin with the handbag.

This one is for you Matty

Position Vacant: Hairdresser

2010-01-07T23:59:00.004+11:00

I think it might be time to grow my hair long again. I don't particularly like my hair long but I've lost my hairdresser and the process of having to find a replacement is doing my head in. My problem is hairdressers intimidate the hell out of me. I don't seem to be able to communicate with hairdressers. When ever I hear the chirpy “so, what are we doing today?” I loose the ability to form sentences and end up saying:

“ umm, well it's kinda flat and messy. Can you make it un-flat and not messy?”.

As I start to panic, I make the fatal error:
    “Just do what ever you think it needs”.     Big mistake.

My previous hairdresser understood me. She knew what my hair was supposed to look like and didn't bother asking what I wanted. When she got a bit bored and decided to experiment with colours it was done with good intentions. She knew there was no point in discussing Dancing with the Stars with me. She could tell when I was sporting a hangover and would go easy on the head massage. I miss her but I wish her well in her new venture.

Life goes on and I have been to a number of different new hairdressers to see if I can form some sort of connection.

Failure No 1.
While a good haircut is important there are other things that need to be right as well. The problem with Failure No 1 was the refreshments offered to me while I was waiting. Fresh faced apprentice with bright red hair comes bouncing up to me.
    “Can I get you something to drink?”
    “How very nice, thank you. I would like a cup of tea, black with no sugar”

I see her face fall and she walks to the back of the shop. Did I say something wrong? Have I committed a hair salon sin punishable by a head shave?

A few moments later she returns.
    “ umm, how do you make tea? I've never been asked for that before”

Failure No 2.

I'm sure it was my fault. Maybe when I mumbled “can you make it un-flat?” it must have sounded like:
    “I would like you to make me look just like my mother. How big do you think you can make my hair?”

It's an easy mistake to make and I'm sure it's common for customers to want to be a foot taller when they leave.

Failure No 3.
    “Is 2pm ok?”
    “Anything earlier?”
    “I can do 1:30pm.”
    “1:30pm works for me. See you then”

You didn't really have 1:30 available, did you. If you did you wouldn't have left me sitting in front of a mirror staring at myself for half an hour. At the stroke of 2pm my hairdressers (soon to be ex-hairdresser) bounces over. “So, what are we doing today?”
I won't repeat my response as there may be children reading.
My lesson of the day here is don't make smart-arse comments to people with pointy little scissors who have the ability to make you a social leper with the most appalling haircut since Billy Ray Cyrus.

Are hats in fashion this year?

Loaves and Fishes

2010-01-03T14:54:00.045+11:00

There is a strange phenomenon that occurs when you invite friends over for a New Year's Day barbecue. It's called the Loaves and Fishes effect. Ever since council workers in Jerusalem had to clean up after a picnic held a couple thousand years ago, mathematicians have been trying to determine the formula to calculate the volume of leftovers relative to the amount of food and drink you started with.

I am going to attempt to solve this mathematical mystery which has confounded some of the greatest minds in history: Why do you end up more food and drink after the party than you had at the start?

First you need the starting point - How much food and drink did you supply? I'm a glutton for punishment and a bit of a control freak so I decided that I would provide all the food and my guests could bring what ever they wanted to drink. I have country hospitality as part of my DNA and this dictates that the greatest failure when hosting a gathering is to run out of food. So, with the benefit of hindsight, I may have gone a little over the top on the food. True to my nature, on the day of the BBQ I was in a panic that I didn't have enough for everybody to eat and I was wondering where I could get extra lamb cutlets on New Years Day.

To make the formula easier to read I shall refer to the original supply of food and drink as Ridiculous Original Oversupply (ROO) . To determine the multiplier effect, next I have to look at the other variables in the formula.

The Guilt Multiplier (GM).
Nobody like to turn up to a party empty handed so, along with my original supply of food, some additional extra dishes managed to sneak their way in. I could have stuck these in the fridge and given them back to their owners as they were leaving, but they tasted better than what I had made.

Designated Driver Offset (DDO)
One of the problems in living miles from anywhere is everybody needs to have a designated driver. The excuse for a barbecue was a get together of girlfriends I had worked with for many years, so the ladies turned up with a couple bottles of wine each (a reasonable quantity given the amounts we have consumed over the years). Their husbands (aka designated driver) followed behind with a hang-dog look and a six pack of light beer. University tests have shown that nobody can drink a six-pack of light beer. After three light beers your brain creates a barrier that stops you for reaching for another one. The same tests showed that nobody is willing to take their un-drunk light beer home with them. The beers are happily abandoned for the host to deal with (ie take to the next party and dump there)

Dregs (D)
In the bottom of every bottle of wine is the last half a glass that nobody got around to drinking. This tradition can be traced back to ancient times when this portion was used as offering to the gods of boozy nights outs. In more recent times it can be more directly attributed to being a too pissed to remember what bottle you were drinking from. It's just easier to start another bottle.

Catering for Everybody Syndrome (CES)
This is linked to the Ridiculous Original Oversupply (ROO). Some of my guests were vegetarians, others don't eat spicy food, so the lumps of meat bathed with a chilli marinade was going to be a problem. Alternate dishes were provided and I needed to do enough for everybody just in case they were feeling like experimenting with an alternate life style on the day of my BBQ.

The Festive Hangover (FH)
The Festive Hangover introduces outside influences into the equation. This is used to calculate the effect of having guests who arrive already burdened with a hangover from parting a little too hard for New Year's Eve the previous night (is that glass of water a little too strong? You're still the odd shade of green). Add to this the no-shows who were still on Sing Star at 4am that morning (you know who you are).

Once you know all the variables and you just have to build the formula:

n being the number of guests
DDBHWPTDW being dregs drunk by host while packing the dishwasher.

143.54% is the magic number. Regardless of the number of people you invite and all the planning you put into your BBQ, you will always end up with 143.54% more food and drink than your started with.

I will win a Noble Prize for this.

Happy Boxing Day

2009-12-26T20:57:00.001+11:00

Boxing day is the laziest day of the year. It's a day of eating leftovers and watching cricket. The family managed to rouse ourselves for a couple games of Jenga which became very silly very quickly (no, just because you're an engineer that doesn't mean you can put a balcony on the Jenga tower) but most of the day was spent sprawled around the television.

I can't engage my brain to write a blog so I have resorted to Lolcats. This will buy me some time.

The Sugar Doll Bloggers Award

2009-12-21T07:40:00.008+11:00

I have been presented with a challenge. If I can list ten things things about myself that nobody in blog land knows I can have an award. And I do love an award. Do I get to do a speech at the presentation ceremony? As I am a narcissist I jumped at the opportunity to discuss the subject I spend so much time thinking about ... - me.

1. I have a birthmark on my right leg that didn't appear until I was seven. When it first turned up I thought it was dirt and I would try to wash it off. Being covered in dirt was pretty normal for me at that age. I was a messy child.

2. I have no appreciation for poetry. I know this makes me a philistine but I just don't get it. If you have something to say, just say it. Don't flounce it all up and stick in some some hidden meanings. I do, however have a favourite poem that I would like to share with you:

Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear

Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair

So he wasn't fuzzy wuz he

3. I was born in the year of the monkey. Monkeys are lively, interesting but are also troublesome and rebellious. Monkeys tend to be accident-prone. We can forgive, but we never forget and we can be vengeful. Does this sound like me?

4. I can't bake scones. Both my grandmothers were founding members of their local branch of CWA and I all I can produce are nasty little dough rocks. I have shamed my family.

5. My second toe is longer than my big toe. A bit ugly. A bit weird.

6. My favourite artist is Jeffrey Smart. I don't know alot about art but there is something in his work that captivates me. Anybody who worked with me in my previous job will see great irony in this.

7. I want to travel to Syria and Jordan before some idiot starts a war there and blows it all up.

8. I sing along with Doris Day films.

I just blew in from the windy city
The windy city is mighty pretty
But they ain't got what we got, no sirree

It's not pretty, but its fun. You know you want to sing along with me.

9. I dislike horses. When most girls desperately want a horse, I desperately wanted to get rid of one. My cousin's pony had been brought out to the farm and it was my job to exercise it. It was a nasty, angry animal which suffered from short horse syndrome. It got it's jollies by disappearing over the horizon after dumping me on my arse. I hated it and it hated me.

10. When I was a kid I had a pet duck that thought it was a pigeon. It used to fly around with the pigeons that would hang around the farm and would perch on the roof of the wool shed. This was not a small duck. It was a muscovy duck that should have been too heavy to leave the ground.

That's my ten pieces of fascinating information. It's might be nine too many (I'm sure everybody wanted to know about my duck). I'm a bit impatient so I have helped myself to the award rather than wait for the awards ceremony (monkey trait). I would like to thank my sister, Jacinta, at Live Life Now for giving me the opportunity to talk about myself. It probably shouldn't be encouraged.

One final thing.
With this award comes the responsibility to pass it onto other worthy bloggers. I am new to the world of blogging and I ask your patience while I delay this responsibility until I find my space in the blog-sphere.

The Quest for the Perfect Steak

2009-12-20T12:01:00.010+11:00

I have a problem. Which is more important in a restaurant: the food or the service?

I'm a bit fussy about steaks. Ok, more than a bit fussy, I'm down right obsessive about it. Screwing up a steak is a crime and anybody who murders a good steak should be whipped to within an inch of their lives (yes, I feel quite strongly about this).

Living in Southern Sydney presents a challenge. It seems no restaurant is capable of cooking a medium rare steak. I have travelled from one end of the Shire to the other searching for a decent steak only to be let down time and time again. Nobody was prepared to serve anything thing less than well done. I have always thought that “well done” is an interesting term for completely destroyed. It's like saying China was “well done” after Genghis Khan popped in to say hello.

I had one particularly depressing incident when it took over an hour for the waiter to bring me my steak. As soon as I attempted to cut it I realised it had been cooking for the entire time I'd been waiting. I couldn't take the let down of a bad steak again and I knew that I had been defeated. I was going to have to travel further afield if I wanted my steaks a little bloody.

It's often the case that a major breakthrough happen when you least expected it. Last night I went to a restaurant I had driven past a thousand times and never thought to try.

“What the hell” I thought, “I'll give it go”

I was a little nervous at first. There were no table cloths (one of my prerequisites for a decent restaurant) and the only thing adorning the table was a can of salt, the type you see in fish and chip shops with the screw on lid with holes in it. My nervousness increase after the order was taken and I was given a steak knife that resembled a Bowie knife. This was one serious knife and could have easily been used to kill a bear. What sort of steak required a knife that would have made a Gurkha proud?

The steak arrived. I prodded it a little with my serious knife, pushed it around the plate with trepidation. It looked ok but there was only one way to tell. I made the first bold cut. There it was .... perfection. My heart sung with joy! Finally I had found my Nirvana. The searching was over. I felt like the Crusaders standing on Temple Mount looking over the Holy Land (ok, I might be getting a little carried away here).

I was in such a good mood after the thrill of finally getting a medium rare steak that I was going to lash out and have a cheese platter to finish. It was to be the perfect close to a wonderful meal.

And that's when it all started to go wrong. The waiters mystically vanished. It was like we had outstayed welcome and we were expected to lock up on our way out. Our empty plates were eventually cleared and I waited for the staff to return with the obligatory “Would you like to see the dessert menu or would you like some coffee?”

Waiting ...

Waiting ...

Waiting ...

It never happened. At first I was patient. I still has my post-steak after glow and nothing was going to upset me. But that couldn't last. I was ready for a little piece of cheese on a cracker and when I finally realised that it was not going to happen I felt robbed. I became surly and wanted to sabotage the can of salt by unscrewing the lid so it falls off next time someone picked it up but it was obvious that it wasn't going to be a waiter who picked it up. From my seat I could see the entrance of the kitchen and when I saw the waiter sitting back having a laugh with the barman, I snapped.

“We're leaving.”

"But what about the cheese?”

“Stuff the cheese. We're going.”

“But I was looking forward to the cheese...”

“I don't care. We're leaving.”

By the time I managed to get the bill I was furious. I had to send a message that they had ruined the perfect steak experience with their crappy service. I left a $1 tip.

If you knew sushi like I knew sushi...

2009-12-15T21:57:00.002+11:00

I went to a Japanese restaurant for dinner tonight. This may not sound like to be a big deal, but it is for me. For most of my life I have avoided eating Japanese food. I would make excuses like “I don't eat seafood” or “it's too expensive”. The reality was I was a scared of it. I had never seen sushi until I had moved to the city and there was no way I was brave enough to eat raw fish. I'm not normally a culinary coward. I will try anything and live by the mantra that you can't say you don't like something unless you've tried it. I have tried some truly disgusting food in my time. Japanese food, however, always seemed beyond me.

I'm sure you're thinking this is nuts and not long ago I came to same realisation. Enough being a chicken! I have been gradually introducing myself to the delights of Japanese food.

The Japanese have a great sense of humour. I'm sure they sit in their kitchens watching closed circuit television images of their patrons punishing themselves with their meals. My first real challenge was pickled ginger. It's so pleasingly pink and so thinly sliced to entice you to try it. The first taste is a delightful reminder of ginger bread men as it sits delicately on your tongue. And then it hit you … the burn. It comes from nowhere and you can never be ready for it. There is a cluster of taste buds at the back of your tongue that have been especially designed for the entertainment of Japanese waiters. Most of your tongue is fine except this one spot which feels like you have eaten lava.

One of the things I have discovered as I travel along life's journey: Green is the colour of evil: Frankenstein, the Wicked Witch of the West , Linda Blair's vomit and wasabi. I was warned about wasabi. Go easy I was told, but nobody actually defines what quantity “go easy” actually is. How does something you eat turn into a searing pain behind your eyes? It gets into your sinuses and decides it's going to kill you. No warnings can prepare you for this.

Have you noticed you are always given more wasabi than is safe to eat? I come back to my earlier point: the Japanese have a great sense of humour. I am developing a deep respect for the waiters who can serve a plate of sushi with a delicate little blob of wasabi on the side and walk away with a straight face. They know how this is going to end. I'm going to hurt myself. It happens every time. I suspect they are in a hurry to get back to watching the close circuit TV to see how much damage I can do to myself. I'm sure they take bets to see which client they have to resuscitate.

My last hurdle in this voyage of discovery is sashimi. The dreaded raw fish. My fear of raw fish is irrational and I wasn't going to let this beat me. I like my steaks cooked rare so why does raw fish worry me? My first few attempts ended in complete failure. I could not bring myself to eat it. I was a complete failure. One monumental day I decided I could no longer let this beat me. With trembling hands I balanced a piece of sashimi on the crappy disposable chop sticks, closed my eyes and took a bite.

“What happened next?” I hear you all eagerly asking. Did my face collapse inwards in horror at encountering the most vile of foods or did I transcend to a world of culinary joy with the most exquisite flavours ever encountered. Well, nothing happened. It didn't have much of a taste. I went through all that anguish only to find out the flavour was quite subtle and I had made a mountain out of a mole hill (again).

I'm happy to say I have conquered my fear of Japanese food and to celebrate I would like someone to take me to Tetsuya's. Any takers?

Fold, Tuck, Stick, Turn, Fold, Tuck, Stick

2009-12-13T12:28:00.021+11:00

I'm not too busy at the moment so I put my name down to be a gift wrapper at a local department store. It was something different and I'm into trying different things right now.

Before being let loose on the unsuspecting Christmas shoppers I needed to attend a training session. This was run by couple of old-hands who have probably seen it all. Ten minutes was spent on how they want you to wrap the presents and an hour and a half on discussing what to do when things go wrong. It was a valuable session. At the end of the training session we had some spare time and someone thought it would be a good idea to try wrapping something awkward. A soccer ball was produced and we willing students attacked it with festive gusto. I can honestly say that I have never seen a sadder looking gift in my life.
Lesson learnt: if someone hands you a ball tell them you are too busy right now but they can leave it and come back later. Make sure the time you arrange is after your shift has finished.

Day one of gift wrapping was quiet and most of my time was spent on setting up the booth and making a supply of boxes. The boxes were my first unexpected problem. I was handed a pile of pre-cut cardboard with a few creases showing where a fold should occur but no instructions on what sort of origami technique is actually required to produce a box. I'm not a big fan of instructions normally but I like to have the option of ignoring them rather than being given nothing at all. After a great deal of experimentation and a few tears I have come up with a user guide for future box producers:

Using your right hand fold in side 1.
Using your left hand fold in side 2 which is opposite to side 1.
While still holding the sides 1 and 2 with your right and left hand, fold in side 3 with your chin and tuck the corner pieces of side 3 under sides 1 and 2 with your tongue. Take care not to drool at this point as making the corners soggy will ruin the finished product.
While holding sides 1, 2 and 3 bring your knee up and fold in side 4. Lift your knee up over your head and tuck the corners of side 4 under with your toes.
Put the finished box under the counter where nobody can see it.

Perhaps I'm a little judgemental but I firmly believe there are some things that should never appear under a Christmas tree. So when a punter proudly hands me a singing trout to be gift wrapped I find myself struggling for festive and heart-warming things to say (and I'm not often rendered speechless). I quickly realised I needed a collection of pre-arranged comments for these occasions:

I didn't know you could buy these here.
(translation: You shouldn't be able to buy these anywhere)

I have some ribbons here that are going to make this look wonderful.
(translation: This is going to need a special effort from me to compensate for the fact you haven't gone to any effort at all when selecting this gift. And if I tie the ribbons hard enough I might just manage to break the sucker and save Christmas for everybody)

I don't think this will fit in any of the boxes and I could probably do a better job wrapping this in paper.
(translation: the boxes cost $5, your gift didn't. You're getting paper.)

There was one final thing that I was unprepared for: Endless version of Jingle Bells being played over the PA. I'm used to be bombarded with Christmas carols at this time of year, and I have been know to sing along, but after many hours I started to realise I was hearing one particular carol that kept playing over and over again. It seems that every Christmas album ever released has a version of Jingle Bells and after a while it stops being funny. At one point while in the middle of a wrapping frenzy I snapped and all Christmas spirit left my body. I looked at my punter with a desperate and manic look and said:

“This has to be the worst version of Jingle Bells I have ever heard. I don't care if it trendy, Jingle Bells should never be hip-hop”

As it gets closer to Christmas we gift wrappers will get busier and busier and I won't have time for my normal cynical thoughts. If you see a gift wrapping booth over the next few weeks don't be scared to get some wrapping done. Not all wrappers think like me. They will think your $2.50 crocheted doylie is just adorable and they will be singing along to the Christmas carols with genuine enthusiasm (doof doof – dashing through the snow – with my favourite ho – doof doof). It's unlikely you will get me was your wrapper as I'm most often found under the counter trying to extract my tongue from fold 4 without drooling.

Happiness is a Thunderstorm

2009-12-09T16:34:00.011+11:00

There was really good thunder storm last night. You know the type … it starts with a stillness in the air as the storm builds and you hear the slow rumble in the distance. Bolts of lightning momentarily blind you and burn an image on you retina. This is followed by thunder that you can feel as it rolls through the clouds . Awesome! I have a bit of a thing for thunderstorms and I love being outside and watching the drama. Only one problem – to really appreciate the spectacle of a thunderstorm you need to be out in the open. Not such a smart place to be in a storm but it's worth it.

The first problem with being outside in a thunderstorm is you are going to get wet. Harden up! It's just water. Ok, so maybe sometimes the water can be a little chunky and icy if you get a bit of hail. This is a good time to get your car out in the open and do that insurance job you have always wanted to do to get the paint work fixed. A word of warning if you are standing in the rain:- don't look up. Getting smacked in the eye with one of these big fat rain drops you get at the start of thunderstorms is a more than a little disconcerting (you can take my word on this).

There is a tiny tiny little risk that by standing outside during a thunderstorm you might get hit by lightning. I got to thinking about this: -What if you could also get struck by lightning when you were indoors? Maybe then it wouldn't be so crazy to be outdoors in a storm. So I did some research on the internet and if it is on the internet then it must be true.

	You can be struck by lightning while in the shower. Lightning can strike a building and the surge can flow through the water pipes while you are under the shower head. Try explaining that to your plumber (if you can still talk). This is also the case when taking a bath or washing the dishes. This alone is reason never to wash dishes again.
	Lightning can get you if you are talking on a landline telephone during a storm. Lightning hits the wire and goes straight to your ear. If you need to ring a friend to tell them there is an awesome thunderstorm maybe you should ring on a mobile phone or yell really loud.

I also found some dud myths out there in cyberspace. My favourite is: An acorn at the window will keep lightning out. WTF??? It would need to be a pretty big acorn. Someone was having a lend with this.

I have some sage words of advice for you if you decide to experience a thunderstorm out in the open as nature intended it. I have learned from a bitter experience you need to make sure you take your house keys. Yes, caught up in the joy and excitement of watching a storm I didn't notice the wind had picked up. There was an immediate sinking feeling when I heard the sound of the door slamming behind me. It was a rainy night and any locksmith who wasn't afraid to get struck by lightning while answering the telephone was going to charge the national debit of USA for a house call.

I will save the story of how to break into my house for another blog.

Nasty Little Critters

2009-12-04T13:49:00.004+11:00

I don't like spiders. They make me nervous with all those legs. So it was a nasty surprise when a particularly ugly spider fell out of the clothing I was folding this morning. Disturbingly it fell out of one of my bras. Just too close for comfort.

While I was trying to regain control of myself the spider raced across the floor looking for a dark place to hide, build a web and raise a family of ugly little junior spiders. Stirred into action by the thought of this, I raced to the kitchen looking for insect spray. As to be expected in an emergency there is never any insect spray to be found. Plan B: grab a plastic container and put it over the top of the spider to stop it from going anywhere. Having done this, courage failed me completely and I couldn't bring myself to carry the spider outside and release it to the wild. I am now typing away in the study while there is a spider doing circle work in one of my prize Tupperware Modular Mates. Every now and then I have a quick peek to see if it is still there (it is) and then I scurry off to hide in another room. Are you wondering why I just didn't dispatch the spider with a trusty shoe? There is one thing I dislike more that spiders and that is squished spiders. **shudder**.

I don't want you to think I'm a snivelling coward. Snakes don't scare me, I've been scuba diving with sharks more times than I can count and I have travelled to some pretty dangerous places in my time. I'm not scared of spiders – just nervous and uncomfortable. There is, however, one thing that scares me senseless and I am about to share with you one of my darkest secrets. I have never told anybody this before: I am scared of drains.

It hasn't always been this way. As a kid I could crawl in and out of a drain without the slightest fear. The deeper and darker the better. One day that changed. That was the day I saw IT.

IT is a movie based on a Stephen King novel. I'm not great watching horror movies at the best of times. I have a very active imagination and struggle to be able to tell myself “don't worry, it's not real”. I'm going to be very honest here and admit that IT scared me shitless.

I have loaded a short take from the film to try and explain this. I'm hoping it is the right video because I'm too scared to watch it and make sure.

The weird thing is this movie should have made me scared of clowns. Being scared of clowns is almost normal – they are pretty freaky. No, clowns don't bother me. They're just out of work actors who have reached a level where they will sell their dignity for food. Drains chill me to the core. I only have to look at them and I get a knot in my stomach. If I park my car next to one without realising, I have to find another parking space. I can't get out of the car and step over the drain – something could grab my ankle and drag me in or I could just fall in by myself (more likely considering how clumsy I am).

It has been quite cathartic sharing this with you. If you ever see me suddenly change direction and veer into the oncoming traffic while crossing the road, I'm not trying to kill myself. It's just I would prefer to take on a bus than step over the drain onto the footpath.

Other than this, I'm almost normal.

Predatory Parking

2009-12-02T22:53:00.013+11:00

Christmas craziness has started. It's the 2nd of December and I can't get a parking space at the local shopping centre. This depresses me greatly. It's time to adopt a different approach to finding a car space: - Predatory Parking.

Predatory Parking the practice of driving around and around until you see someone leaving the shopping centre and returning to their car. You drive slowly behind your ex-shopper until they reach their car. You can't get too close to them because if they stop suddenly you will run over them and you will never get their parking space. You need to keep close enough to send the message “I'm really desperate and if you mess me around on this I may not be responsible for my actions”

I have a few hints that might help you develop your predatory skills:

1. Choosing Your Mark.
Being able to pick a shopper (known as the Mark) who is going to give you their park can be an art form.

Bad Marks:

Men carrying lots of shopping.
There is a warning sign here. Men don't carry lots of shopping bags. They don't operate like this. They go to the shops, buy the one thing they need and leave. You will find the man carrying lots of shopping bags can't take it any more and has decided to sit in the car until it is all over. Upon advising his wife of this she has said “fine, you were annoying me anyway. Here, take these bags back to the car.”
Mothers with Small Kids.
This is a risky mark. Kids take a long time to strap in and it is more than likely that just as mum had got all the kids and shopping loaded one of the kids will inform her that he really needs to pee. You could be waiting a long time for this park.

Good Marks:

Young Women.
Young women have the stamina to shop all day without having to do a mid-shop offload of their bounty. They only leave the shopping centre when they are done. Never before.
Single Blokes
They can't get out of there fast enough. Great mark.

Even the best mark can lead you into a dead end as I found out today. I picked the perfect mark: a young women striding confidently through the car park. I assumed the slow stalker position about 10 metres behind her. I slowly followed her the length of the car park until I was edging towards the back wall. I was getting excited … we are it the back corner, her car must be here some where. And then in a flash she changed direction and bolted up a set of stairs to the next level. Godammit, I hate being toyed with.

2. Defending your Mark
There is a moment of weakness in predatory parking where you are exposed to having you carefully stalked parking space nicked by a scavenger. A scavenger is someone who doesn't have the patience and skill to stalk themselves so they rely on momentary loss of concentration from the predator to steal their prize parking space. Much like a hyena – and equally repulsive. The moment of weakness is when your mark has left the parking space but you haven't yet positioned your car into a parking manoeuvre. The scavenger will pretend not to see that you have been waiting patiently and will try to get into the parking space before you. They must be stopped at all costs. Reversing furiously towards them will often frighten them away.

I encountered this on the weekend. A scavenger was sniffing around our freshly identified parking opportunity. I needed at act quickly to frighten the scavenger away so I started waving my arms around and making threatening gestures. I even shouted some abusive comments but since the windows were all closed it's unlikely that this was very effective. Only after I defended the prize park I was told that the scavenger wasn't actually after our space and that she was waiting for another space three cars away.

Sadly predatory parking is more stressful than I can handle and it is best to just avoid the shopping centres for the next month. Where would we be without the internet? Santa is coming to you digitally this year.

What is that I hear? Did someone say I could always catch public transport? BAHAHAHA – get realistic! I live in Sydney!

I Should Give Myself an Upper Cut.

2009-11-30T22:18:00.021+11:00

I'm trying to focus on a job I hate doing, so it seems to be an appropriate time to distract myself with a blog. I should be typing up the minutes of a committee meeting I attended a couple weeks ago. A smart person would have done the minutes straight after the meeting when it was all fresh in her mind. It would have been done and out of the way. Obviously I'm not the afore mentioned smart person. The only reason I am forcing myself to type the damn thing up now is I realised today that next meeting is only days away. I was filled with that same sense of panic I would get at school when I realised I had an exam that I forgot to study for.

I'm going to try an experiment: while I'm typing up the minutes I'm going to add comments to my blog about what I am really thinking.

Section 1: Present/Apologies.

This is an interesting section. Heading the list of apologies is the Secretary and the Assistant Secretary which is how I got myself into this predicament in the first place. The meeting opened with the President asking “So, who is going to take the minutes?”. There was a moments silence and everybody was looking at me. In a blinding moment of clarity I realised … OH MY GOD …. I'm the only chick in the room … they expect me to do it. To my shame I capitulated. Without an argument I picked my pen, scrounged a few sheets of blank paper and with a gentle sigh said, “Looks like it's me”. I should give myself an upper cut.

Section 2: Correspondence
I have little to say about this section except you cannot include junk mail in incoming correspondence. Come on people, just because it gets shoved in the mail box it doesn't mean we have to acknowledge it's existence. I refuse to to take this section seriously and shall only make a feeble attempt at it.

Section 3: Matters Arising from the Previous Meeting.
Easy … cut and past everything that was carried forward the last meeting and carry it forward to the next meeting. I'm pretty sure we didn't actually do any of the stuff we should have done.

Section 4: Treasurers Report
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Hello CPU … this is the keyboard speaking … We have a problem. We seem to have lost the operator.

Keyboard, this is the CPU … what do you mean you lost the operator? She was there a moment ago.

I don't know where she went … hang on … I've found her. She is under the desk in the foetal position. Can you send a message to the power board to give her a quick shock?

ZAP!

I'm back. Forgive me, I just had a quick nap. I don't think I want to talk about the Treasurers report.

Section 5: President's Report.
WOOHOO! El Presidente had been away for six weeks. No President's report. Thankyou God!!!!

Section 6: General Business

Last section. I'm almost done, except this is where I have my biggest problems. I failed to mentioned previously that I prepared myself for the arduous task of taking the minutes with a beer, several beers in fact. My handwriting which is normally dreadful has taken on a new life. It has amazing artistic merit, but I'm not convinced I was actually writing in English. It is reminiscent of Egyptian Hieroglyphics mixed with a bit of cave art. I'm pretty sure I see a buffalo in there. Oh look, there's an alien as well ... cool!

Oh, sod it! I'm going to fill this section up with all the stuff I think we should be doing. I bet nobody else was listening to anything that was being discussed so nobody will know the difference.

And there you are Dear Reader, the minutes are finished. Thank you for keeping me amused during my darkest hour. In a final act of defiance, I refuse to do a spell check. Hopefully the litany of spelling mistakes should act as a warning to never ask me to do the sodden minutes again.