What's 100 divided by 4?

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My age.

That's right. I hit the big 2-5 today.

I'll be honest. I feel a little detached from my body. My brain is pretty much sort of that of a 25 year old. BUT:

1. My level of maturity fluctuates between that of a 4 year old and a 25 year old depending on whether it's crimson tide time, my level of hunger, tiredness and boredom;


2. My appearance varies between a 15 year old to a 21 year old depending on if I'm wearing trackpants teamed with nerdy glasses, and sans make up or, proper going out clothes somewhat coordinated;


3. My voice will perpetually be that of an 12-15 year old;


4. My height will forever be that of a 14 year old;

So, for the most part I don't feel quarter of a century old.

I wonder if I'll "grow" into it?

Anyhow, numbers and sums aside, here are some highlights from my lovely birthday in no particular order:

• Man from Mars outdid himself and cooked up a storm. Dinner was dijon mustard chicken with beans and rice. Dessert swiftly followed: A mountainous chocolate cake topped with lashings of icing. Present was brandished soon after from the depths of his closet: A portable dvd player to keep my boredom on my busrides to Canberra at bay. I was astounded upon astounded to say the least. Marvellous cooking, super dessert and a practical present- Man from Mars sure hit the jackpot. What a star.


• Masterchef Sister did some spectacular mindreading and succeeded in selecting the perfect Little Black Bag for me. As someone who has been hauling a large oversized tote (read: huge black bag the size of a potato sack) around for the past year and a half, this perfect Little Black Bag is the perfect accessory to every outfit. I feel as classy as Grace Kelly. And very high society indeed.


• Masterchef Sister then navigated the dangerous city streets and embarked upon a spree at Andriano Zumbo's patissier in Balmain. Cue: A mind boggling selection of intricate, delicious cakes- so complex and delicate, you wouldn't believe it until you've cracked through all the layers upon layers and see how much skill and ingenuity has gone into each little cake.


• Work people organised a "surprise!" cake- 3:30itis was warded off with lashings of cake, cream and mango .

So, I had a lovely day getting older.

In other news, how pointless is this argument:

Man from Mars: "Speaking of the Devil there it is!"

Me: "It's Speak of the Devil not Speaking"

Man from Mars: "Nah, it's Speaking of the Devil, because you are speaking about someone"

Me: "Nah, it's SPEAK! I swear to GOD"

Man from Mars: "Don't swear to God, that's bad form"

Me: "Yeah especially if you're speaking of the Devil"

Me and Man from Mars: *Hor hor hor!*

--Well it was funny at the time, okay???

Gelatiamo bella!

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If I went to a gelato place and was handed two piddly cones that big, I'd be pissed off too.

For generous serves, cute italian decor and a taste and texture that makes you your eyes go zombie, your saliva glands explode and your cheeks turn pink with pleasure, visit Gelatiamo:

362 Pacific Highway

Lindfield NSW 2070.

It won't dare disappoint, and it'll leave you smacking your lips for more.

What's love got to do with it once the romance dies down? Elementary my dears; it's all a matter of logic.

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Relationships go awry for any number of different reasons. The love disappears, flaws sprout from your partner's ears, nose, eyeballs and mouth and the conversation, chemistry and connection all but disappears as the angry cloud of swearwords, insults, anger and despair makes its toxic presence known. You're left wondering whether you just imagined all the good stuff; that this bloody irritating oaf of a person must have always been lurking there, except somehow you were blindsighted by skewed romantic ideals, notions of domestic bliss and the idea of being matched with someone from here to eternity.

Identifying the exact point at which it "all started to go wrong" is often impossible- it creeps up on us; we avoid it; pretend everything is fine; talk about the weather; chat aimlessly about work, friends and other people's business. Anything to distract from the problem that remains.

Man from Mars and I have been together for the better part of three years. Having met in the most unlikely of circumstances and fumbled through the inconvenience and at times, false reality of a long distance relationship, there have undoubtedly been moments where both of us have questioned the "rightness" of our relationship. Nothing confuses me more than hearing lovebirds harp on about the fact that "you just know" when you've met your perfect match.

How exactly do you "just know?" After all, you can't judge a book by its cover, so why a person? How can anyone be in a position to declare that someone is 200% right for them, without so much as having exchanged a couple of laughs, a handful of meals and no more than 1o minutes of conversation with each other. Exaggeration? I think not. One of my friends has declared that all it took was "a look, and from that moment on, I just knew". Another recites the need for her to have been in a truly out of this world sh*t relationship, before wisdom dawned upon her and directed her to her soulmate.

If only it were that easy for all of us.

In the end, I think that what it all comes down to, is mathematics:

• x+y = tango
• x+ y = awesome tango x 10,000 = 10,000 awesome tango
• x+y = hair raising hell tango + misery guts

In other words, you'll always be the same two people, but whatever each of you decide to put into the groundhog drudgery that can be, The Relationship, is what you'll get out of it.

Like my logic? I do. But, before I get too smug, I add this disclaimer: Logic, models and equations although appealing in their straighforward application, will always hold the loopholes that come with failing to account for variables present in the real world. In this case, let's not forget the reality that men are of an entirely different species to females, so some things will always stand beyond the realms the comprehension.

Also, I confess that I didn't actually figure all of this out on my own. I'm not that smart. A few insightful conversations with some truly wise owls parted the clouds and prompted this post- So thanks to you wise owls, my equations wouldn't be what they are, if it weren't for your impressive wisdom.

What went down this week in Canberra town...

Man from Mars is currently scoping out Canberra on the housing front as he prepares to make the Big Move to Australia's Capital City. (See above for a geography lesson on Australia's most unassuming (translate: quiet, slow, scenic, sleepy) city. Also, for a double dose of education take note of the familiar sights from Year 6 camp: Questacon, Parliament House and Capital Hill.) He has spent the better part of the last two weeks planning the logistics of moving cities for his snazzy new job in the Transport department, or more precisely, the Infrastructure Transport Regional Services and Local Government Department. You better believe it. What a name. What a long name.

But don't be fooled by the grandeur of the long name- staring at the building from across the road presents a puzzling exterior of bright billowing signage: "Travel agent" supplies Man from Mars: "It looks like a giant travel agent". For once Man from Mars gets it right and I couldn't agree more.

Gaudy buildings aside though, I'm pretty jealous- working for the government sounds sweet: flex time, work life balance, low stress........ only problem is, you're stuck in Canberra. Like most things it's almost like the person planning Australia decided no one can have their cake and eat it too. If you're going to live in Sweet Job Central, you can't also live in Sweet Social Life County. Or, if you live in Sweet Social Life County, you can't enjoy So Much Space to Move Around in there's no such thing as Crowds District.

It's too bad, because if Canberra had 50% more zing and 20% less sleepy, it would be a nice place to live in (as opposed to a retreat for the golden oldies).

Ah well, we'll see how Man from Mars fares. He predicts he shall hate it. That he'll flee to Melbourne/Sydney any chance he gets, and that he'll crave the busy city life that Canberra, on its life, can't rustle up.

Best and Worst

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My favourite blog of the moment is Mia Freedman's blog: mamamia.com.au.

On Friday she posted what her best and worsts for the week were. I've decided to do the same (when I remember).

Best moments of 29 June 2009 to 5 July 2009:

• driving in the sunshine with my sister, singing along to Lily Allen and laughing at the lyrics of "Not fair"


• walking so far to Turner (Canberra) with Man from Mars (he's house hunting) and being sooo hungry because we skipped breakfast to make the house inspection. Declaring that I was in Starvation Nation and then getting loony and hyper because what else could you do when you're in Canberra, hungry and got nothing to do but walk from one house to the next


• eating lindt icecream on Sydney Harbour
• finding perfect cheap lipgloss at Sportsgirl- perfect shade and everything
  
• making my first phone call at work
  
• fighting and making up with Man from Mars almost every second day. Funny in hindsight, intolerable at the time.
  

Worst:

• getting really nervous every time I have to call someone official at work
  
• feeling out of my depth at work


• arguing with Man from Mars before Canberra trip because he didn't want to share his backpack. Eating horrible fastfood before 3.5 hour bus ride to Canberra. Making up over argument while trying to find key to make final loo trip before boarding long bus trip. Long bus trip. Fighting once in Canberra because I think Man from Mars doesn't listen to me like he cares. Make up with Man from Mars the next day because we forgot we were fighting-- this bit falls within the final point of "bests")
• buying weird permanent lipgloss by accident and having to go around Canberra looking like a kid who'd gone through her mum's make up (this was before I discovered awesome Sportsgirl lipgloss)


• feeling apprehensive about the looming working week.

Bisous 'til next week.

Me and my Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day...

Remember that book Benita from Play School would read us at Story Time, 2 o'clock on the Rocket Clock: "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day", by Judith Viorst?

It was one of my favourite books, largely because Benita would put on the cranky voice of Alexander so well, and also because I honestly felt bad for the guy. Everything in his world went wrong that day. I could understand why he felt like the entire universe was against him. Here's what went down to make Alexander's day so memorably bad:

1. he went to sleep with gum in his mouth and wakes up with gum in his hair;
   
2. he gets out of bed, trips on his skateboard and by mistake drops his sweater in the sink while the water is running;


3. at breakfast, Alexander's brothers Nick and Anthony reach into their cereal boxes and pull out amazing prizes, while all Alexander ends up with is cereal;


4. his teacher doesn't like his drawing of an invisible castle;


5. there is no dessert in his lunch;


6. the dentist tells him he has a cavity;


7. there is kissing on TV;


8. he has to have lima beans for supper; and


9. he has to wear his railroad train pajamas (he hates his railroad train pajamas)
   

In fact, things are so bad that Alexander wants to go to Australia, because in Australia, everything is upside down, so maybe a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day can become a wonderful, terrific, really good day! (See: http://www.kennedy-center.org/programs/family/alexander/ for more on this marvellous book).

Luckily Alexander discovers that even people in Australia have terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days and the moral of the story is that that's life, get over and don't sook too hard.

Still, when those days hit, it's hard not to think that you're somehow cursed for those 24 hours.

Here's what happened in my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day- nothing singularly devastatingly bad, but cumulatively, morale breaking:

1. I woke up and my fringe was at north north east


2. I made my lunch to take to work. Then I proceeded to leave it on the kitchen table and forget it.


3. I left my work pass in the pocket of my other coat. I had to work around the whole block to get into work through the other entrance, because there was no other way in


4. I stupidly wore my uncomfortable shoes and my pinkie toe is killing me


5. I got an abusive phone call from a pissed off person who took out everything crap in her life, onto me


6. I decided to refresh myself with a Boost juice- they didn't crush it for long enough. I tried to mash it with my straw. I mashed so hard that it piked a hole through the styrofoam cup. Cue: river of Boost coarsing down the side of the cup, down my hand, onto the ground.


7. Man from Mars unwittingly lets slip a selfish comment
   

which sends me over the edge and I unleash a barrage of angry whinging which, even by my standards doesn't really make sense.

Oh well- Sense shmense, I deserve to not make sense after such a disastrous day.

Tomorrow BETTER be a WAY BETTER DAY.

Otherwise, I might just crack the double sh*ts.