Nagging Queen...

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Today Miss DB was preparing her porridge in the staff kitchen. She was using an Uncle Toby's Creamy Honey Instant Porridge sachet and as she bustled about getting her bowl and equipment ready, she lamented that:

Whenever I make my porridge, it explodes all over the microwave!! I don't know whyyy!

In response, and in true "I'm a know-it-all and hey look, I'm wearing my proverbial know-it-all harem pants" form I provided an in depth explanation which essentially translated to:

You don't add enough liquid to your oats.

Ohhhh! You think that's it?? she wondered, while only putting enough water to just submerge her oats (for the record, perfect microwave oats require a little more liquid than that- about half a centimetre above the level of the oats). Her outstretched hand reached for her bowl and she strained across me to put the bowl in the microwave.

I had to stop her. I had to save her porridge from its inevitable exploded fate:

Nooo, Man from Mars, you don't--- !!

Miss DB recoiled and stared back at me as if to say:

Huh???!

And then we both started laughing hystercially. I'd mistakenly called Miss DB by Man from Mars' name, not because she resembles him in any way, but because I've nagged Man from Mars that many times about the best way to make instant microwave porridge.

Obviously, I need to get a life and become pro at something other than making microwave porridge!!

Gaffes...

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The hot topic of the morning was Sarah Murdoch's unfortunate slip of that name on that show.

Some Foxtel boss blamed her for the gaffe, but to be honest, I didn't think it was anything worth blaming anyone for. Wrong name, correction, right name reinstated. Winner announced. Mild confusion, hugely memorable. Deliciously funny more than anything- then: fireworks, massive publicity and water cooler discussions. Riveting!

Where's the loss?

Similarly, Miss K Kaif was afflicted with her own version of the public gaffe. In her own words texted post-gaffe:

Sequence of events:

My heel got stuck in a crack on the footpath and I walked for a metre before I collected my shoe... shortly thereafter my earring fell off from the sheer force of the encounter, immediately following this disaster I stacked it as I went to collect my earring. Can't a girl walk to her a car in peace?

I couldn't stop laughing and Miss K Kaif was equally philosophical about the whole ordeal:

I was laughing at myself like a lunatic. Surprisingly enough the people around me didn't share my laughter.

Life's all about gaffes. You may as well laugh like a lunatic when they happen.

The Shoop Shoop song

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It was late afternoon and our pod was relatively quiet, although equally restless-- home time was approaching.

Then, ever so softly Miss K Kaif began humming "The Shoop Shoop" song from Mermaids.

Hmm Hmm you wanna know hmm hmm loves you so it's in his kiss...

Game, Set, Match. Day over. Productivity shot.

Mr Russia, Mr Hussy and I chimed in and we couldn't stop.

There's nothing more enjoyable than singing happily out of tune with a bunch of people who know what you're singing and don't give a sh!t about how badly you're singing it.

Almost Summer Daze...

Before I launch into what went down this weekend, Mr Hussy and I shared the following exchange on Friday. I think it demonstrates the male/female dichotomy pretty well:

Me: I have all my stuff because I'm staying at my sister's tonight. I bought my make up, you wanna see?

Mr Hussy: (doesn't get a chance to reply)

Me: This is moisturiser. You put it on at the very beginning. Mr Hussy inspects obligingly.

And this is foundation, you put it on next. Mr Hussy nods, like the perfect prodigee.

Then this is the powder, you put it on to keep everything in place throughout the day

Mr Hussy: Is this powder? How do you put it on? (I ignore him)

Me: Then this is the blush, that you put on your cheeks (I show him a palate with 2 different colours amongst a vast array of eyeshadow squares)

Mr Hussy: You wear purple blush? he queries, pointing to the purple eye shadow square

Me: Nooo, that's eye shadow! (as if it's the most obvious thing in the universe)

Mr Hussy: Ohh, I thought you only ever had one colour of blush! (he mused out loud)

Me: No, well there's two here. (I pointed to the pink and peach shades)

Mr Hussy: Ohhh okayyy.

Me: Anyway, now these are three brushes. One for powder. One for blush. And this ones for eye shadow! (I hand each one to him and he carefully inspects them all.)

And that's everything!

Mr Hussy deliberates briefly before handing down his judgment:

What a f*cken headache.

Meanwhile, this weekend it was mid 20 temps, early mornings and long, packed days.

On Saturday, we had a seminar on Ethics at 9 am. After half heartedly attending, we were all ravenous and wolfed down a bunch of sausage rolls and tarts from the Bourke Street Bakery. One word: delicious.

In fact, all I did this weekend was eat. Because I stayed with my sister in Glebe, I indulged in Thai, gelato and more food than was absolutely necessary.

In what will now be a weekly tradition for my little blog, here are some photos of the week gone by--

Miss DB and I toasting in the sun on Friday. I'm wearing my burger ring ring:


Miss Tiny's little hand acts as Miss DB's personal sun visor:

Miss Tiny and I:

The view from my sister's place in Glebe: There's writing on the window:

Wall art:

Miss DB, Mr Russia and Miss Tiny stomp the sidewalk:

Bourke St Bakerei:

Miss Tiny our resident professional photographer:

Miss DB and I waiting for sausage roolllllllllsss. We were so bored:

... So Miss DB thought she best do her nails:

Finally, the pies!

And the tarts! (Halved equally by my sister):



Get there if you can!

Surry Hills vintage cool:

We passed a fairytale wedding in Glebe:

Manly Beach on a sunny Sunday:


It was so hot this little guy went shuffle swimming- wheee!

Ribs and Rumps:

I love the sea breeze, the white sand and even the seagull poop (my sister got shat on, luckily she was wearing a hat):

And that marks the end of this weekend. As the back of this toilet door says:

Hope it's a nice week for you :)

Cos I'm Asian...

Miss K Kaif made the following observation today:

"The only times I remember that you're Asian are:

1. when you drive; and


2. when you cross the road.

The rest of the time I forget."

Reluctantly, I had to agree. In true "I'm an Asian female" style, I'm a supremely hesitant jay-walker. I peek out around cars parked roadside, wait, wait, wait, and only when the oncoming car is more than 300 metres away, do I run, run like the wind!

In even truer "I'm an Asian female" style, I'm a skittish driver. Plus, my parking is consistently laboured.

What can I say? She's right. I am Asian after all.

Technology sux, srsly...

This afternoon we had a training seminar. Except, it wasn't any ordinary seminar because it was a webinar. A new fangled mode of conducting training sessions by having one poor guy on web cam doing the talking while clicking through power point slides that are transmitted for everyone (in this case about 20 different groups from lots of different companies) to see.

Some common hurdles:

• high pitched interference punctuating every half sentence or so;
• people forgetting to put their phones on mute, which means you could hear a lady going "Oww! I hit my-- I don't know if it's on mute!!", or another man drawling "G'day John how are you?" or another shim (unidentifiably male or female) whispering "Yes, yes that's the way you put it on mute;"
• people getting fed up with the above and exiting the webinar in a huff (well I presume they did anyway, I couldn't them you see, but I also had this urge and could feel their pain);
• fed up people's departure being broadcast to everyone else present with an automated voiceover: "You have left the conversation;"
• unfortunate presenter soldiering on in spite of the increasing number of groups exiting the conversation;
• unfortunate presenter being interrupted by boarish man who practically shouted: "Could you please move your microphone closer to your voice? (?! excuse me boarish man, but don't you mean mouth?) and
• learning absolutely nothing from unfortunate presenter who has obviously invested a lot of time and effort to make his presentation the best it can be.

Such a pity.

Thinking too much about what I should've, could've, would've, have to do...

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I've decided that mulling over things I could've done, and worrying about things I have to do, is officially a waste of time.

This evening while I was in the shower I was so preoccupied with making a mental list of the stuff I have to do tomorrow, that I couldn't remember if I'd just shampooed my (desperately in need of a wash) hair, or if I had just been massaging my head for the hell of it.

I tried to backtrack and trace my actions- did I or did I just not just pick up that huge bottle of Tresemme, squeeze a 20c size glob into the palm of my hand and thoroughly distribute?

Try as I did, I just couldn't remember.

And so I washed my hair (again, or maybe not) just in case.

Stay in the present, people- that's all I can say.

On a Monday morning...

Teenagers can be pretty funny.

This morning, I saw these five teenage girls from the local private school making their way down the hill to the station. They were doing the usual "I'm a rebel on the way to school" things: loitering, gossiping and stopping only to adjust their enormous backpacks that were slung down way low, past their bottoms.

But, rather than doing the ordinary "walk" to school, they had organised to ride their retro scooters, in single file down the street. One of them also had a stereo peeking out from her backpack and 80's music was shouting out. They coasted. They stuttered over bumps. Breezy, harmless, silly, easy fun. Adults smiled out of the corners of their mouths. It was a pretty nice way to open a Monday.

A photo (although the scooters are a little hard to see):

Mid September Weekender...

Last Friday, it was my sister's 27th Birthday:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY GRRR!!

On Saturday, Man from Mars came up and we all went out for a birthday lunch at the Deus Cafe. Part cosy weekend cafe, part motorcyclist's haven, this lovely joint screamed artsy quirk and excellent food. Some photos just so you get the gist:

My sister in her "how country road is my outfit today" gear:



Wall art:


Man from Mars pulls a move:

My sister and I:

Awesome food. Man from Mars wanted the pie, but they ran out. So he got "the best fush and chups I've had in my life":

After lunch my sister and I fooled around with bike helmets while Man from Mars scored a new t-shirt:

This is what the outside of Deus looks like- a giant spraypainted motorbike!

... And a giant walk to work off our meal. Flowers blooming against the best backdrop in the world:

Man from Mars' long overdue trip-

End of the day:

The weekend is over, Man from Mars is back in Melbourne, my sister is back in Glebe. If I didn't have these photos, I swear it could've all been a blink and you'll miss it dream!

Hope you all have a splendid week.

Do-over!

Poor driveway builder, he didn't realise that council regulations have changed and the gradient requirements that were in 2004 are no longer. Yep that's right, he had to re-do all the work he's done up until now.

Add to that the pouring rain, the general dissatisfaction that comes with having to re-do anything that you've tried your best at the first time around and you have:

"Frustration" said our driveway builder.

What an understatement. If that happened to me, I think I'd spend a good 24 hours boycotting the driveway, the weather and the general order of the world. Then I'd get down on my knees, look up beseechingly towards the sky and cry:

Why, world, whyyyyy!

The conundrum of the clumsy parker

My driveway deserves a medal for perseverance. For decades, it has fought tooth and nail against the roots of the rubber tree which has pushed it upwards, inwards and finally caused it to crack. A giant fissure like an upside down V. Like this: ^

This morning, my driveway got a makeover, and as a result all three cars "evacuate(d) the driveway! (sing to the tune of "Evacuate the Dancefloor! by Cascada, thanks).

That was easy enough, but this evening when I got home, it took three rounds around my street for me to find a nice place to park. All because I kept missing the nice place to park the first two times.

I blame it on the dark. And I blame it on the orange siren lights on top of the skit. And I blame it on my poor night vision. And I blame it on the distracting work men watching me circle around 3 times, looking increasingly confused each time I came around. Like, whatever! Have you never seen a clumsy parker attempting to park in the dark?

The third and final time they waved to me. That wave you do when someone lets you in on a bumper to bumper road: raise arm, straight palm, finger fingers evenly spread, then down. I acknowledged their acknowledgment with a toothy grin, my own straight palm wave and ventured up the newly smooth driveway, and into the house.

Spring has sprung...

Spring has officially sprung.

Sun streams into my room at 6:30am; the days are longer. The sky is blue; leaves are returning to trees. The sun is a little hot; but nicely toasty. My black turtleneck is sometimes inappropriate when I'm meandering mid-afternoon; but lovely and cosy when I'm sitting in the shade.

Such are the symptoms of spring.

Today Miss Ebae and I wandered around the Rocks like real Ajumas (korean for older ladies- they generally walk very slowly and rest frequently on benches, while proclaiming "why, my legs are so sore!"). We pretended to be tourists visiting Circular Quay for the first time, and took a number of photos to mark the occasion. We lunched at a sidewalk cafe, watched the Rocks fashion show which starred everyday girls and the odd boy as catwalk models, witnessed New Zealand traditional dancing and got free cupcakes.

It was a scrumptious spring day and I suspect the day will end with a Seinfeld marathon.

In other news, Ms CalmFarm had her last day at work on Wednesday. A positive move and a timely change- but nonetheless:

WE'LL MISS YOU MS CALM FARM!

And to finish it off, some photos from today: Contortionist street performer

Spring in the City

Rocks Fashion show displaying the Rocks Markets' talent



The National Costume which Miss Universe Australia wore




Old school post box



Rocks markets on a lovely spring day



Tour groups going on history tours around the Rocks. Costumes and all.

Sail patterns

New Zealand traditional dancers

Miss Ebae and me:

My new Paris locket from the Markets