Stuff only your family can tell you...

http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_f98opUNuVXc/SwPOeuIJMAI/AAAAAAAALeY/yERTTIfAvLs/s1600/Toothy+grin.jpg

At one point or another my usual "Now you've really said something funny, and I must laugh" smile morphed.

It went from being a regular, broad grin with the usual smiley eyes and mighty teeth, to being a little bit more crinkly: crinkle my nose, mild overbite, and bunch up my cheeks- the type of smile you do when someone does/says something endearing and you think "Aww, now that's endearing".

I have nothing against the "Aww now that's endearing" face. When the time calls for it, it's apt.

But unfortunately when you start doing it all the time, which is what I started to do (including in those instances when something wasn't even endearing, but actually incredibly funny and completely deserving of my best "Now I must laugh, or I will fly into the clouds and combust" face), it becomes a little problematic because your face isn't being accurate.

Until today, I was only vaguely aware of it. I knew I was crinkling my nose often and I also knew that I was tilting my head to the side a whole lot more than I used to. But you know, so you crinkle a bit, and head tilt some more- no biggie.

No, you've totally changed how you smile! declared Mum in Korean, with her typical Korean zeal. She followed this up with a completely exaggerated and borderline offensively unattractive smile full of squinting, overbiting and nose flaring. My dad looked at her "imitation" of my morphed smile, and laughed hysterically. He adjusted his green towel (that he wears as his default outfit before retiring to bed) and tried to be more gentle:

No, you don't look like that, but I like how you used to smile before! He then pointed to a photo on my bookshelf where I'm offering a completely fake and wooden smile, and nodded emphatically.

I'm only smiling like that 'cos I'm posing! I snapped. I so do not flare my nostrils and squint like that! and with that, I swivelled around in my chair and valiantly ignored them.

They retreated back into their chess game and weekend golf analysis and I secretly checked out my morphed smile using the shiny black surface of my phone.

I practically recoiled- Holy Mackerel, my mum was right! I really was flaring my nostrils harder than a puffing billy goat. As the realisation set in, I slipped my phone back into my pocket, started furiously typing this post while pretending to still be annoyed at them, and concluded that okay fine-- I am actually pretty glad they told me. Even if my mum did have to resort to imitating a blowfish to get her point across.

Hi Dilys!

I miss the crazy cool cat days of Canada.

Today I met up with Dilys- the little Asian with the Attitude and Snap. We lived on different levels in Marchand (the dormitory for international students and some lucky first year Canadians) when we were on Exchange and while she studied her hiney off, baked cakes and and played Catwoman on Halloween, I ate lots of bagels, ran around with Miss Ebae and was Lucifer on Halloween.

Now, three and a bit years later, we shared a plate of dumplings and handmade noodles and raged about the complexities of life, work, boys and the goddamn travel bug that just won't go away. She lives in Perth and is aiming for a move to either Sydney or Melbourne, and damn straight she's going to be the best lawyer in all of Oz, because she loves it that much.

Thanks for the best lunch hour in a long time xx

Howdy stranger...

So I know, it's been ages since I last wrote.

I went to a Mediation course last week and it was all about learning how to gently push, softly softly encourage people into reaching compromises and resolving their hefty disputes. There was lots of role playing and acting and the most comprehensive meals I've ever encountered. Our food breaks went something like this: 8:30 am: tea and coffee. 10am: pastries and tea and coffee. 1 pm: sandwiches, pasta, quiche, cheese and crackers + dried fruit. 3 pm: Tim Tams and coffee.

Heifer and blimp, I tell you. You could not have fit in any more food if you tried. By the end of it my jeans were so tight that the fly kept slipping down, and I had to resort to wearing a super long black singlet to keep the busted gap out of sight. Out of sight, out of mind, says I. Although I did resume my Zumba workouts today.

It suffices to say that Miss Tiny, Makari, Mr Russia and I were in Severe Food Depression Land this morning when we realised that this awesome regimented meal plan was no longer. Miss Tiny sent around a remorseful email wailing for the 10 am snack and we all shared our condolences.

Besides the daily food soiree, I think we all learnt a lot.

What I found most intriguing was the spread of people. There was us, 4 mid twenty-somethings, cheeping like lost birds and laughing openly when things got uncomfortable and nerve-wracking. There were the 50 + year old fella who, still stuck in the habit of his senior office role, turned up in his starched shirts and plush, silver ties. There was the worldly and serious Tribunal member, with kind, inquiring eyes, who was also in his mid forties and pronounced "Mediator Extraordinaire" after only two days of learning. There was the the table of ex-private law firm lady lawyers turned child rearers, serious in their learning and appreciative of the opportunity. There was the rogue cowboy with the gravelly voice whose inflection remained even as he contributed to the brainstorming sessions and on day 1, flirted openly with one of the ex-private lady lawyers. And so many more.

I thought that the older participants wouldn't get nervous doing all this self-conscious role play business. I thought they'd have weathered life, been thrust into every possible situation, learnt everything you could possibly learn and be self assured and unshakeable. It was somehow reassuring to see that the older set get nervous too. The guy with the silver tie always looked so in control, and when we spoke later he admitted that his heart had been beating like crazy. I told him that I assumed he wouldn't be bothered by this kind of thing because he looked so experienced and he found my assumptions pretty funny.

Like Miss Glamela tells me, it's all about being taught to act a certain way and show a certain side. Underneath, everyone's just the same.