The 5 day Easter corker...

Apparently, the 5 day Easter long weekend only rolls around once every 27 years. Anticipation roared through the office on Thursday and we all hammed it up- Excitement.

Man from Mars, his sister, his mum's partner and I made the most of it.

[Sunset on Thursday:]


Good Friday: a big lie in, Chai Time, and a wander around UNSW for nerd time's sake.

Good Saturday (as Man from Mars insists on calling it): An unfulfilling movie (Unthinkable starring a Matrix heavy cast, including Samuel L Jackson and Carrie Ann Moss) and a roast dinner at the local RSL with my parentals where they spent the better part of dinner with their mouths agape and their eyes transfixed on the big footy rolling TV screens.

Good Sunday (again, as Man from Mars insists on calling it): Lunch and Gelato at Gelatiamo and a big big barbecue with my parentals, Man from Mars' family and lots and lots of sausages.


Anzac Day: Lots of rain and Aussie pride

[The Anzac Day March:]


[Anzac Pride:]
[Go you plucky little Koreans!]

[Marching bands:]

[Michimoo's birthday celebration- 23 years old!]


All in all a sleepy, lovely break.

Muffin Surprise!

Today Ms CalmFarm texted me as I hopped on the train and cryptically requested a place to meet before work.

I happily responded and we met by the shoe shop that's always on sale. She hurried up to me, all blue eyes and pearly teeth before dipping into her bag and furnishing half a dozen fluffy raspberry and cinnamon muffins.

For me? I was floored in a good way.

Ms CalmFarm surprised me in the sweetest of ways- an unequivocally kind, touching and generous gesture that made me feel super lucky to have such a wonderful friend.

Au Natural....

Yesterday, after our family trip to the dentist, my parents gate crashed their friend's sleepy Saturday afternoon (read: showed up unannounced at the house of fellow Korean who they haven't seen in about 5 years, because they wanted to take advantage of their son who's a skin specialist, and knowledgeable on all things crater, volcanic and scary on your face).

The thumb size pimple that's occupied the majority of the gap between my eye brows for the past ten days has only just started to recede and my dad figured that now was as best time as any to get this monthly recurring purple pimple issue rectified (yes, obviously it's hormonal-related).

The diagnosis was delivered evenly and reasonably: apply ointment on affected areas and don't wear make up for the next two to three months.

I nodded as he talked, watching his mouth move in that rhythmic way that accompanies doctors speak. Uh-huh, Mm-mmm, ointment sounds good. Uh-huh, on affected areas, yes that's logical... And don't wear make- up for----

My eyes bugged out of my head. Say w-h-a-t did he just say?

TWO TO THREE MONTHS OF W-H-A-T?

"Yeah, as I was saying, you shouldn't wear any make up- not even moisturiser, and not even sun cream" he continued on, emphasising the any.

He looked up from writing the script, and I was flummoxed. I mean, I'm not vain, but make-up is so enjoyable for me, that to not wear any at all seems totally foreign-- not to mention a little bit scary.

Not even moisturiser?? I pleaded.

Look, if you survived months without dairy (I did, in my own efforts to eliminate those purple critters) then you can totally do 2-3 months of no make-up.

I whimpered internally. The learned doctor smiled benignly.

I will keep you all updated.

Some photos of the week gone by:

[My railway station:]



[Dinner with Miss Ebae after the longest time EVER:]


[My sister and I after the longest time EVER:]


[Lunch at Mrs Rocke's after the longest time EVER:]

Retail days...

In the vein of revisiting old uni haunts and taking the proverbial trip down memory lane, this morning I ran into Ollympic Runner. We used to work together at Gowings- him upstairs in the Fishing Department; me downstairs in the Accessories Department.

I was 19 at the time, and thought this casual job was a marvellous invention. Sure, the store was targeted at middle aged men obsessed with kitsch toys, Orgasmatrons and Drizabones, but the pay was crazily good by my own youthful standards and the store was large enough to allow me to "go missing" when the Sunday morning shift dragged on.

I run into Ollympic Runner pretty infrequently. He actually lives about two minutes away, but has recently decided to split his time between two minutes away and Belmore, where his lady love lives.

Generally, our catch-ups happen on the morning train, on the walk back from the evening train, and sometimes at the shops. He's a rather deadpan fellow and his sensible approach to things against my easily distracted and loopy thoughts make for some funny conversations. This morning, I pointed out the huge pimple in between my eyebrows while Ollympic Runner declared his intentions to partake in the upcoming May Half-Marathon:

"Underneath all that concealer, my pimple is really really red. It's like the colour of--

(I searched for something really red, I looked at other people's outfits, at my own outfit and without an inch of red to be found, discovered that my watch had irritated the skin underneath to provide the perfect vermillion colour sample)

this! It's like this red!"

Naturally, he gave a long suffering look of disdain and continued on explaining that "21 km isn't that far".

At the end of the train ride, I coaxed him into a photo. He refused to take one of those "chick" photos where the girl on the end (usually with the longest arms) extends her elbows with the right amount of "loop" to fit everyone in. Instead, I had to be content with one taken from below, camera flat against the knees and with Ollympic Runner looking away from the camera.

Back from blog break

Hi luvvies, it's been donkeys years between posts. Sincerest apologies for those kind folk who are still following. I blame it on Man from Mars. No, not really, I blame myself, but he is partially responsible because in a fortunate twist of (work) fate, he's been in Jervis Bay during the week and then in Sydney on weekends. 100% weekend contact in the month of March- happy days, with a backseated blog.

In the meantime, I've come full circle.

Over the last couple of months I've been fretting a bit about what I should be doing with my career. I've been up the "why did I do law?" tree, down the "what suits me?" hill and everywhere in between. As you do, I even went and saw a pricey career counsellor in the optimistic hope that she would be able to figure it all out for me based on a measly questionnaire and a review of my resume.

Sadly, although not unexpectedly, she didn't. Although she did give me some interesting insights into the kinds of environments I'm happiest in and what sort of person I am.

After seeing her, I was still in career limbo. Ms CalmFarm put me in touch with her Guru, Sir VJ Singh and he gave me golden beads of wisdom-- words to the effect that the world is always full of opportunities; it'll never be short of them, but it will be a matter of our own limitations holding us back and keeping us from taking them on.

A couple of weeks on, and a good dump of positivity later, I'm no more decided on where I'm headed, but not so concerned about it anymore either. I figure that it will work itself out and in the meantime I should be happy with what I have. The rest will flow afterwards.

BTW, did I tell you? Man from Mars and I are planning a trip to Europe in August. I know, Europe! Oui Oui, Eiffel Tower, here we come!

Here's some pictures of the month gone by. Incidentally, there aren't many pictures because I switched handbags at the beginning of March and left my trusty camera behind.

[A dusky rainbow as I sit at the bus stop:]



[Mexican at Cafe Pacifico]:


[A trip down memory lane with the soon to be Mrs Shipp and Pony Express:]


[Hanging out near Uni, duck sauce stained and proud:]


[Pretending to be in a tute at UTS after a massive effort at Paddy's Markets. Happy memories:]