Lost in the Heat

I came home today after my three lectures. I was tired; the last lecture was a killer. I was hungry; it was 2.30pm and I hadn't eaten since 6am.

The lecture was a killer in more ways than one. Yes, it was exceptionally hard with 69 slides filled with minute details and general stupidity. But it also depressed me as I sat there. It depressed me because I felt like I was sitting in a void that I wanted desperately to scramble out of but couldn't.

I should have known this morning. My brother drove and parked at the gym. As I was walking towards med campus, I saw a huge line of students outside the gym, chattering nervously. I realized they were about to sit the UMAT (I didn't so much "realize" as see a sign with the word "UMAT" on it). I thought back to my own UMAT experience. I remember my dad dropping me off at the uni in the morning to sit the test. I remember my intense nervousness, feeling like everything (well, 33% of my future) weighed on this silly test.

I remember going for the med entry interview a few months after that. Dad dropped me off again. During the car ride, I received a text from my mum telling me I had received Dux for my high school. I thought this was a sign, that this was meant to be. I walked into the university feeling happy, light and like I could conquer anything.

I remember not getting medicine on first round offers. A feeling of intense dread filling me. Not disappointment; absolute dread. Where was my life going? I needed a future and, from that perspective, I didn't have one.

Then getting medicine on second round offers. The elation but mostly relief.

Now, almost three years after these events, I feel absolutely empty inside. I feel no passion for what I am studying. Next year, we are based mainly in hospitals doing practical work. I dread this with every fibre of my being. GP placements alone (just three hours in a dinky little GP's office) make me nervous. Leaving those placements is like walking on clouds. I'm free when I walk out those clinic doors. I can breathe.

I don't think it's right to dread the next three years of your life. Worse than that, I don't think it's right to dread the rest of your working life. Or to make plans to retire early so you can pursue your dreams of becoming the next Meg Cabot/modern day Jane Austen. Or to make plans to become a GP so you can work three days a week.

I came home this afternoon, hungry and exhausted.
"Mum," I said, as I made a sandwich. "I need to talk to you about something."
"That doesn't sound good," she said.

No, it doesn't.

I told her about how I'm not enjoying uni, not happy with what I'm doing. How unsure I am, how I've been thinking about this for the last couple of months. She comforted me as I cried and we talked about it for a couple of hours. Round and round in circles.

Do I complete the degree but not do an internship/practice? Do I leave now and do something else? Do I do something completely unrelated or try to use some of the units I've already done?

So, where am I now? Still as confused as ever but I feel better. I always feel better after talking to one of my parents about something that's bothering me. Usually it's after talking to my dad though. But I couldn't go right off the bat to my dad about this one because I know how incredibly disappointed he will be. He who lives the life he wish he had lead through me.

Mum told me to talk to a career counsellor at uni and figure out my options. I'm thinking of talking to the preclinical dean as well. She's the most motherly person I know. She did public health or health science in university with postgraduate stuff as well so I figure she'll know more about the health world.

I guess that means I still want to work in health. And I do. I want to help people in a meaningful way. I just don't know if I can see myself doing that as a doctor. Working at the WHO, working on projects in an office, that sort of thing. It seems so much more appealing than being a doctor. Travelling the world, exploring, creating. The written word. God, I miss it.

But I know it's hard to get a job with a health science degree. I know having a medical degree opens up so many doors, regardless of whether you're a doctor or not.

A part of me is also scared of becoming ordinary. Maybe it's embarrassing to admit but sometimes it is nice to tell someone you're a medical student and have them be impressed. But that's a terrible reason to continue doing a course you hate and certainly not one that will go into my decision making (consciously, at least).

Where does that leave me? I'll make an appointment with a career counsellor or any sort of counsellor at school. Maybe I'll email Helena. Maybe I'll talk to my dad about it (or maybe after I talk to a counsellor).

Right now though, I feel like a giant load has been lifted off my chest just saying the words out loud to my mother. I need a plan though. I need to know I have job security in the future, that I can use at least 50% of my past units and not have all that time, effort and money wasted (because it is a lot of money).

Still feels good though.

J

Grey Hoodies and Bikes

I went to buy a camera with my dad today. This one for anyone interested: http://www.cnet.com.au/canon-ixus-240-hs-339342461.htm

We got it at JB Hi-Fi. I know what you're thinking. How could I betray my one true love, Officeworks, like that? Well, Officeworks did not offer what I wanted. And, after buying my camera, I realize that JB Hi-Fi has much, much better customer service. And efficiency of service. But poorer heating. It was chilly in there.

We got to that big, yellow building. Walked in. Walked. Observed the cameras. Went to find someone to get the camera for us. We started approaching one of the employees there. Apparently, they don't have a uniform. This guy was dressed in jeans and a grey hoodie. He saw us approaching and said, "Hey, guys. I'll be with you in a sec. Gotta couple customers here waiting."

Grey Hoodie was none other than... former head body of our high school in the year below us. None other than Alexandre where the reversal of the R and the E from traditional spelling indicates high class and sophistication (we've discussed this already). None other than the guy I occasionally see on the bus or at the bus stand but am too scared to talk to even though I'm older therefore more sexually mature and worldly. None other than the guy who used to work at the local IGA (guess we know where he went now). None other than the guy who I swore I would talk to when I went through his check-out at the IGA during the summer of 2010/11 (did not happen, if you were wondering).

I texted Helen about a recent occurrence with Grey Hoodie a couple of days ago. I saw him at the bus stop. We made eye contact. I think he recognized me (I obviously recognized him). I really wanted to say something like, "Hey! You went to such-and-such school, right?" But I did not. I regret my decision as clearly the forces of the universe are trying to thrust us together (word choice completely deliberate).

I regret this decision even more because, when the bus arrived, he stepped back to let me on the bus first. Like a true gentleman. I turned, smiled and murmured, "Thank you," all docile and feminine like every good woman should do when they're not baking pies or surrendering their Precious Flowers to soldiers returned from The Great War.

On this occasion at JB Hi-Fi, I guarantee Grey Hoodie recognized me again. Whether from the bus stop or from school, I'm not sure. But he recognized me and I gave him a bemused smile. I think something special is happening here. As we loitered, I heard him speaking. So much knowledge about telephone devices. So much knowledge and charisma. That charming smile.

Damn me and my cougar-like intentions.

In the end, Grey Hoodie did not serve us. Instead, some other guy did. I now have a camera to take photos of the great, rolling hills of Buxton, Derbyshire. And something called the Gherkin that Little Mishelle is apparently enamoured with. I doubt its beauty with a name like that. Sure, I love gherkins and all things pickled as much as the next person (seriously, banh mi's would be nothing without that mounding pickled vege) but I think we can all agree that pickles are hardly the most attractive thing in the world.

No, that would be Grey Hoodie.

I digress.

In other news, my dad got a free bike from his boss at work (whom he incidentally despises. I wonder if this free bike will change his views?). It is a ladies' bike and he only got it because I expressed interest in it. He spent all of this morning pumping the tires and servicing it or whatever. Then he went and bought new tires or new tubes or some shit. Now, I feel obligated to ride the shit out of this bike.

Except that I hate cyclists on the road and I'm pretty sure it's illegal to ride on the footpath. But I love cycling. I love the ease, the breeze, the treble in my thighs (channelling Schmidty here).

In any case, this new (free) bike will be conducive to my decision to start training for a triathlon.

J

There and Back Again (A Lard Ass' Tale)

I have been the worst at healthy eating over the last couple of weeks. My new approach to food is this: eat healthy at home, indulge on a weekly basis when I go out to eat. I read a lot of food blogs and I get pissed out when I see healthy lifestyle bloggers go out to eat at a nice restaurant and order a salad.

I like salads. I like that you can add whatever you want, they're generally healthy and generally yummy. But restaurant salads are usually expensive for what they are and, in my opinion, not worth it. Maybe these people just really, really like salads. I am not one of those people. So, when I go out to eat, I like to indulge fully.

This week, I went out to eat too many times and did not change my food philosophy. I did, in fact, indulge fully on each and every one of those occasions. I had Baskin Robbins ice cream on Tuesday. Pralines n' cream. Holy crap, the second I saw it I knew I had to have it (a lot like how I feel about cute guys on the bus). I have never seen so many nuts in a vat of ice cream before. Generally, ice cream places are pretty stingy with mixins. Brownie bits, nut bits, other bits are sparse. But this ice cream was literally bursting with huge chunks of pecans.

I said to myself, "Self, you are going to eat that." So I ordered myself a scoop in a cone (inspired by Big Michelle's recent comments about how she always gets her ice cream in a cone rather than a cup if it's available) and it was magnificent. The pecans were not crispy. Because they were pralined (new terminology. Educate yourself), the texture was more akin to a cookie piece. It was just astonishingly amazing. I now know what sex feels like.

On Thursday, I went to Jamie's Italian and had a full pasta lunch with ice cream dessert. For lunch. Lunch with dessert. This is very uncharacteristic for me. I will have dessert for lunch but I rarely, if ever, have dessert with lunch.

On Friday, mama made lasagne. I worked that night until 9pm and got home at almost half past. And then ate a full lasagne dinner. Great. I'm sure my body thanked me for that one.

On Saturday, I worked the whole day so did not exercise. I ate healthily until dinnertime when I had combination hofan, the most delicious of all hofans. I ate the whole thing. This was a big serve. This was a mega serve. I ate every last slippery noodle. My parents also bought all these cakes and cinnamon rolls from the Miss Maud's factory for cheap so I had a small piece of apple cake. Divinity.

On Friday, I had bought a block of Cadbury Oreo chocolate (limited edition. Get on it, kids). I broke into it last night. Holy crap. It rivals the pralines n' cream ice cream in terms of mixins. So many massive Oreo chunks. So fucking fantastic. I had two pieces (as in, two squares) and was sent to heaven and then back again.

This morning, I ate a massive cinnamon roll that my parents bought. It was amazing. Dense, bready, sweet deliciousness. I was in carboheaven.

Lawd, save me.

It's a good thing (but still very, very bad at the same time) that I go back to uni tomorrow because I need to get back into my healthy eating habits. No more snacks (I can't do snacks because then I feel too entitled to eat more)! No more eating out (except once a week)!

I like how this blog post started as me bashing myself up for eating junk then turned into me salivating and describing ad nauseum the delicious, unhealthy things I ate this week.

J

Girl, You'll Be a Woman Soon

I bought my first lacey bra today. I am a woman now.

To be sure, it was $4 and from K-mart but that doesn't change the fact that I'm a woman now. I would model it for you and post a picture here but you might be blown away by how damn womanly and bodacious I am. Just imagine it.

J

Jamie's Italian

I went to Jamie's Italian with my brother and his special friend for a late lunch today. We got there and I said to Special Friend, "Doesn't look too busy. Hopefully they'll seat us right away." They took our phone number and told us it'd take about 30 minutes. We went for a walk and my brother bought Easyway bubble tea. They called us five minutes after we got the bubble tea to tell us a table was ready. Awesome.

I've never seen anyone drink bubble tea so quickly (it was chocolate with custard. To me, this is the most disgusting combination. I tasted a bit and got a mouthful of tasteless custard and overly sweet chocolate. I feel the best bubble tea should be fruity like mango or lychee, coffee-flavoured or traditional milk tea. And now I've talked enough about bubble tea).

We went and were seated. There were actually numerous empty tables around ours so I wondered why they hadn't seated us straight away. We got talking about the rumour that all the waitstaff are apparently British or at least have British accents. The rumour proved to be correct we realized over the course of the meal.

We started with tap water and a complimentary bread basket.

Yes, I Instgrammed the shit out of these pictures. Enjoy the doctored hipsterness. The bread was dry and tasteless, made better by dipping it in the olive oil/balsamic vinegar mixture. This saddens me greatly as one of my greatest joys in life is bread. I expect more. Bread should be joyful to eat, not a chore. Maybe the dryness is understandable as it's a complimentary bread basket and slices are cut from a loaf that sits out in the open as and when they are needed. That doesn't make up for the tastelessness though. The breadstick was better (but it's a breadstick). In the background is "music bread" which is basically the crispbread you get with cheese. It was also decent but relatively tasteless.

Bread has a taste and that taste should be delicious. I like bread. This bread was mediocre. I am sad.

We ordered a serving of "posh chips" to share. Normal hot chips with parmesan cheese and truffle oil. The truffle oil was indiscernible but the cheese was tasty. This might have been the best "dish" of the meal.

I ordered the sausage pappardelle, main size. The serving size was decent but not exceptional. I've gotten a lot larger for a similar price at suburban restaurants though. There was also the option of an entree size for $6 less but I saw pictures online and the serving size was minuscule. I figured it would be worth it to size up. 

 

The sauce was tasty but slightly more acidic than I'm used to. However, the pasta itself was undercooked owing to the actual shape. The pasta (which reminded me of the small intestine, appetizingly enough) was thick in the middle. It wasn't quite chalky but not quite cooked enough either. The parmesan breadcrumbs on top were tasty. 

My brother ordered the wild rabbit tagliolini. If you aren't already aware, my brother loves steak. He should have ordered the steak.

I had a bite of his. The pasta and sauce were well cooked and tasty. I thought the sauce was pleasantly light and tangy but my brother said later that he found it too buttery. I only had a little bit so probably didn't get the full effect. The rabbit, however, was like rubber. 

Rabbit is a white meat (like chicken... but where does duck stand? I always wonder) but the texture of this rabbit was almost like a really overcooked piece of beef or lamb. It was bad. 

Special Friend ordered steak tagliata described as "180g aged grain-fed Angus Hereford steak with crunchy fennel, watercress, mint, chilli, garlic, horseradish & lemon." She also had the truffle butter for an additional $4.50. 

As you can see, it looked more like a salad than a steak. I guess because it's only 180g, they sliced up the beef and spread it out to make it look like more. Special Friend said it was horribly dry and tough. She ordered it well done though so who knows really. 

My brother and his Special Friend shared a brownie. It was a hunk of brown with an attractive dollop of vanilla ice cream on top. It looked reasonably fudgy. However, on first bite, I was informed that it tasted cheap. More sugary than chocolatey. Worse that what could be found at Woolworths or a Vietnamese bakery. I was sad. There is nothing sadder than a chocolate dessert that tastes more like sugar than chocolate. 

I had the ice cream. Three (small) scoops of ice cream with a choice of two toppings (butterscotch sauce, honeycomb, seasonal fruits or crushed nuts). The ice creams were chocolate (pale without a real chocolate flavour at all but yummy enough), fig and something alcoholic I think? Amaretto maybe? They were lighter and more moussey than normal bought ice creams but I think I actually preferred this. The fig ice cream was actually really nice with a lot of chunks of fig in it. The third flavour was completely non-descript. I can't even describe it to you. It kind of melted into the other two as it was at the bottom. 

The honeycomb was delicious and the butterscotch sauce butterscotchy. I should have got double honeycomb instead though... 

The total bill came to $93 something. 

With $93, we could have gotten a feast at a Chinese restaurant that would have left us with copious leftovers (actually, debatable given my brother's appetite). The thing with going to restaurants to eat pasta is that it never feels worth it. It's all just pasta and not much else. I can buy pasta for 99c from IGA. If I'm going to get pasta at a restaurant, it better be freaking delicious. Otherwise I'll get a burger.

Because burgers are always delicious. I should have gotten the burger.

All in all, no bueno. Save yourself the $93 and go to this place: http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/338/1370726/restaurant/Perth/Singapore-China-Town-Northbridge

The sizzling Japanese tofu is delicious.

J

Future Me

After a month of contemplation, I've decided to stick with med (like it ever really an option not to...) and either do an entirely unrelated postgrad (probably something literary/English/language oriented), a related postgrad (and then go into research which I possibly wouldn't mind), become a real doctor while moonlighting as a literary mystery solver on the side (I'd be Gwyneth Paltrow in Possession) or do the whole retire early thing then follow my real passions.

I'm taking inspiration from Ken Jeong. Even though I don't watch Community and have never seen The Hangover, I really like what he's done.

J

Food Fantasies

Oh, my God. This is adorable: http://cupcakesandcashmere.com/food-fantasies/

I started disliking this blogger for a while but now I like her again. And I may have to follow her example and describe my perfect food day. It's very tough. If I was being completely legitimate, my perfect food day would involve me eating non-stop for at least 13 hours. Here we go:

7am: huge stack of pancakes accompanied by a basket of fresh bread and pastries. Today, I feast like a king.

10.30am: Snack time. Obviously. Probably a whole baking tray of brownies. But those infamous slutty brownies with the cookie dough and Oreos mixed inside.

I give up. I'm being overwhelmed by thoughts right now and I can't effectively translate them to this medium. I started writing a lunch menu that ended up just saying "LUNCH BUFFET" which is obviously not very specific and defeats the purpose of this post.

Food is my special place. But so is reading, writing, TV/movies, music, exercise and fitness (a winning combination with food, I'm sure), fashion etc. etc.

On a slightly unrelated note, I have to express my growing skepticism towards Asian fusion food. And all that "high class Asian food" where the plates are black and desserts include pandan flavoured panna cotta. Where a bowl of laksa is $22 and there are multiple rice varieties available (brown rice, wild rice, mystery unicorn rice etc.). If I wanted a bowl of laksa (which I rarely do, laksa being my least favourite form of noodle soup and pho being my favourite), I'd go to a suburban food court, pay $9.50 and get a vat of spicy, fish ball filled goodness.

Similarly, there's something inorganic and slightly wrong about classing up roti canai as I read about on so many food blogs these days. Roti canai should involve a heaping pot of curry that everyone shares (obviously, not slurping from a communal spoon or anything. We do have slightly more class (and hygiene) than that) and a big stack of roti on a plate that everyone can grab from. I feel so sad when I see tiny bowls of sad spicy sauces and fluffily plumped rotis. It feels so incomplete. Curry is such a... Curry should be shared, it should be in abundance (2kg of chicken abundance), it should be eaten from old plates with cutlery stolen from Malaysian Airlines when they still used real metal cutlery.

I have strong feelings about this. To be fair, I think the only time I've ever really had Asian fusion food was in Melbourne in a fancy (read: expensive) restaurant my loaded uncle took us to. That's the other thing; so damn expensive. Asian food should be inherently cheap. I feel like it should be automatically associated with either the ethically questionable back streets of Malaysia or Vietnam or Taiwan or China or the warm, slightly sultry kitchens of Asian mothers (because women belong in the kitchen etc.). In both these settings, food should either be cheap as hell or free as hell.

The restaurant my uncle took us to served a roast duck salad. It was nice and tasty... but it wasn't the same. But maybe that's the point.

J

Sookie St. James

I never thought I would say this but Melissa McCarthy's comedic abilities were 78% wasted on Gilmore Girls. She was playing the wrong character the whole time. She's not suited to play an overly bubbly, accident prone chef at all. She's 100% suited to play an absurdly crude, 89% masculine cop with a penchant for profanity and week old cheese sandwiches.

That being said, if she'd played a character like Mullins or her character in Bridesmaids in Gilmore Girls, she would have stolen the show and the TV show name would no longer be appropriate. Who knew that Sookie would become the most successful actor from Gilmore Girls? (Me)

J

Querida

I have officially regressed into my 14 year old self. After watching The Princess Diaries this afternoon, I started trawling through Meg Cabot blogs and discovered she has promised to write a seventh installment into The Mediator series (my favourite Meg Cabot series in the entire world. I plan on forcing my future husband to refer to me as mi querida at all times). 

No publishing date set as she has not even written it yet but I am very excited. I don't care if I'm 30 when it comes out. I cannot wait. 

http://www.megcabot.com/2013/01/report-from-downton-cabot-life-goes-on/

J

Gupta

The Princess Diaries is and continues to be one of the finest movies ever made. I have laughed out loud so much over the last couple of hours. Even though I've watched this movie countless times, it's still hilarious, charming, sweet, heartbreaking, magnifique.

I started this post off with one paragraph but have repeatedly come back to edit and add. As such, I am turning it into a list of things I love and admire in this movie:

1. Mia in that white ball gown at The Grand Ball is the most beautiful thing in the world. In all the movies I have ever watched in my life, I don't think any actress has met that same kind of beauty. The dress, the hair, the collarbones. Immaculate perfection.

2. The soundtrack. From the opening song (teaching me since 2001 that I'm Super Girl) to the song when Mia blows off Michael's invitation to go to his band practice (too many feelings, so many emotions running away with me) to the very last song when they're dancing at The Grand Ball (yeah, miracles happen once in a while when you believe).

3. A very, very cute asparagus.

4. Two words. Foot pop.

Despite my love for this movie and the author, I have never read one Princess Diaries book. I should maybe do something about this. I think it would help with the fact that I'm still mourning the fact that Mia does not end up with Michael in the movies.

Thank you for being here today.


J

11-Year-Old Girl Shatters Climbing Records

Within 10 seconds, I said aloud to myself, "Oh, my lawd." And then I got to 1:54 and thought to myself, "What am I even witnessing here? Is this trickery? Is this real life?"



J

You Read My Mind

I have narrowed down my preferred choices in reading material to two major genres:

1. Old girly shit. Jane Austen, Bronte sisters (well, mostly the one who wrote Jane Eyre), Elisabeth Gaskell. People like that. Charles Dickens can eat a dick.

2. New girly shit. Meg Cabot, Sarah Dessen, Marian Keyes. Today, at the library, I picked up a book about a baker who somehow gets involved in a murder. The title involves the word "red velvet cupcake" and the book is interspersed with recipes. It's like someone took all the things I love and transferred them into book format. Perfection. I have high expectations for this book.

J

Just Like Heaven

Last night was fun. Except we got ice cream. I ordered honeycomb because I sampled it and it was amazing. It was the end of the tray and there were tonnes of huge honeycomb chunks of top. Honestly, 50% of why I got it was so I could get one of those huge honeycomb chunks. I thought that no matter where she scooped it from, I would get a chunk.

I did not. I am still mad. I seriously contemplated asking for a chunk after I'd received my scoop but I desisted.

I also almost got engaged to a dirty, hipster waiter at Grill'd. It was so obvious that he wanted me terribly and I reciprocated to an extent, even continuing to talking to him after he walked away. In the end, he was too shy to propose. Next time.

J

Winter Holidays

Time enough to make stovetop oatmeal. Heating oats, water, milk, honey and my fingers. To heat up what the night has frozen.

J

Cake Emotion

Just had an argument with dad that ended with me saying, "Fuck this," then walking off. It was about cake of all things. I then went to my room to cry.

J

Beverage Conspiracy

I had a family filled Sunday today. We went to dim sum during brunch time (11am). It kept me healthy yesterday (I resisted beautiful prawn crackers) with thoughts of plump har gao and salt & pepper squid running through my mind. As well as a perfect dan tat (egg tart) with soft, jelly-like egg custard encased in buttery (or more likely lardy), flaky pastry.

Sadly, there was no egg tart at the place we went to. And my brother had an allergic reaction to something (probably the chicken feet) and sat all glumly for half the meal. This always happens and makes me depressed because I feel like I can't comfortably enjoy my delicious feast with him in anaphylactic agony (just jokes, he did not go into anaphylactic shock).

After brunch, we went for a drive up to the hills. Guys, I think I've found my future home. It's either the hills of Perth, the rolling plains of Northern Ireland or the snowy fields of rural England. But the hills are closer to my parents and I can go there to steal food and dried dates. It's really beautiful there and self-contained.

Whilst there, we went to a cafe for coffee and I had a mocha milkshake. On first sip, it was delicious. I don't like iced mochas because they taste too much like coffee (bitter) and too little like chocolate (sugar). But this mocha milkshake was deliciously sweet (because I have the tastebuds of a child). By the end of the glass, my stomach was churning. And the milkshake was tasting less and less delicious. It was then I realized... it tasted exactly like a Brownes mocha chill.

It was uncanny. I love that sickly sweet cartoned beverage as much as the next sane lass but I was kind of mad that I had spent (well, my dad had... Please, like I pay for my food/drinks whilst out with my family) $5.90 when I could have spent $2.60 on something equally good. In fact, I theorize that the cafe simply shook up one of those cartons and emptied them into the metal milkshake cup.

Conspiracy.

J

R vs. J

Spent time with R today and wondered if I really like him. I also came to the conclusion that he doesn't like me in that way at all and I can't really be bothered asking him out before he quits after all. I also found out he plans on staying in Japan for a year, maybe 18 months instead of the initial six months.

This should bother me but it doesn't. He's a really nice, cool, unique guy but I don't really have the butterflies anymore or the overwhelming sense of, "I need your love, I need your time, when everything's wrong you make it right." I'd like to stay in touch because he's the kind of guy you wonder about years down the track. But I could say that about a lot of people because I become easily attached.

Rediscovered Man vs. Food. That is a good show.

J

Snore Fest

I went rockclimbing today with a few friends from uni. Afterwards, I felt like I'd just written an English lit exam. It was intense. But fun. And a good all body workout.

Earlier, I went boot shopping at Myer. Holy crap, I'm actually embarrassed for myself. I've been to two Myer stores at least five times over the last couple of weeks, trying to buy the right coat/boots. It's been exhausting. In addition, I've been talking to the sales assistants and asking for help. Then leaving and coming back again and asking them more stuff. I'm probably on an international blacklist at this point.

Thankfully, I bought some boots today. Not from Myer, however. I had my heart set on this pair: http://www.myer.com.au/shop/mystore/au-women-r-5/winter-edit-boots/dfsupersoft-hanae-brown-boot

I tried the size 9 on in the store. The leather was buttery soft (really appealing to my vegetarian/vegan readership at this moment) and so comfortable. But I wanted to size up to a 9.5. No stores in WA had it. VIC had one pair and the sales assistant called them for me but it was a display pair and I was not keen on it. Too bad because there was free shipping involved which is a very helpful service. I appreciate that, Myer.

In the end, I went to eat Sumo Salad (note to self: it is entirely possible to overeat and subsequently feel fat from salad) then hit Betts as a last resort. I've tried their boots before and most of the time, the material (non-leather) is too stiff and not comfortable enough. As a lady with broad feet, I require the most supple of cowhide to accommodate my large hooves. I found this one pair (unfortunately, black. I already have a black suede pair of boots and was gunning for a brown pair) that were real leather, very comfortable and 70% off at $68.90. And then one of the sales assistants came around with a $10 voucher for everyone. I promptly made up my mind and bought them. They are lovely. Not ideal but hopefully will allow for comfortable trekking across the streets of Firenze. 

This is the most boring post I've ever written. I've also decided on this fringe for my haircut tomorrow whilst keeping the rest of my hair long:

Any excuse to post a picture of Emma.

J

Ice Tea Imported From England

I bet they have amazing dried dates in Italy. But they're probably better in Turkey or Iraq or somewhere that is not Italy. Hm, my next travel destination perhaps.

That being said, I am tempted to go to the US for my fifth year elective. Even though it would probably be heinously expensive. But maybe not. Isn't America meant to have a pretty cheap cost of living? I'm sure I could live off 50% pigs trotter hot dogs for a couple of months. And I'm all too happy to live in a cockroach-infested ghetto somewhere. I am from the hood after all.

But then Canada is calling (they have a large Jewish population there too, just in case you were wondering). So is Eastern Europe. So is Tibet and Russia. So is the Moon.

And now I'm done. I can't wait to travel the world.

J

I Take It Back

I take it all back. Dried cranberries are not the world's greatest dried fruit. Not even close. Dates are.

Holy crap, how have I gone this long without trying a dried date? Sure, I've had sticky date pudding plenty of times but not the fruit itself. It is like eating a piece of sticky date pudding... but without the pudding. It's so sweet but not overly so, it's soft and squishy, it has a mellow caramel flavour.

You know how people say fruits are nature's lollies (or is that just me)? It's all a lie. Fruits do not taste like lollies... except for dried dates.

Now I know why Muslim people break fast during Ramadan with a dried date. Because the thought of that delicious morsel is enough to sustain them through the whole day of fasting. Ingenious.

J

Update on Lunch

I just burped and nearly vommed a little in my mouth. And now I'm recounting the story here. Maybe all that roughage wasn't such a good idea at lunch time.

About to hit Harbourtown/Myer to look for more boots and coats and thermal underwear. Cool.

J

This Shit is Pumpkin (P-u-m-p-k-i-n)

I don't want to brag but I just made and ate the most delicious lunch in the world (and yes, it is only 12.25pm and yes, I have fully consumed and cleared the evidence of my midday meal). 

I roasted a zucchini and some pumpkin with salt, pepper and some oil. I made couscous to which I added the roasted vegetables, a diced tomato and a generous handful of dried cranberries (my new one true love. Holy shit, dried cranberries are delicious. They kick sultana's ass, dried apricot's ass, all the dried fruits' asses! And yes, the grammar of the previous sentence is entirely questionable even though I pondered over it for a good few minutes). I mixed it in a bowl with some leftovers from last night (I made fish tacos last night so had a small bowl of leftover coleslaw, salsa and avocado) and topped it with a gooey fried egg (just the type Little Mishelle loves with the runny yolk coating it all in a delicious, animal-byproducty sauce).

I just came. It was amazing. 

I love cooking during the holidays. So far, I've been making myself enough food on Monday to last me for lunch for the rest of the week. The first week, I just roasted pumpkin and carrots for salads. The second week, I roasted pumpkin, carrots and made beanballs. This week, see above. As you can see, there is a recurring theme of pumpkin because pumpkin is fucking delicious. 

I am going to miss this culinary shit once uni starts up again. Crying inside. 

Oh, and I just found out that that douchebaggy new manager of mine basically got fired this week. He was told by HR to either get his shit together or leave. It is amazing. 

J

Wild Child

Holy crap. I have found the best blog ever: http://theactorsdiet.com

Not only is she Asian American (there's some similarity to being Asian Australian, right?), takes awesome photos of food, eats amazing looking stuff but she's also married to a Jewish guy! I know. Could I be even more horrendous and superficial? I don't think so.

Went for a 30 minute run this morning. My blister popped open again. It was suitably pussy and horrific. Then I went to work. R and I both parked our cars and started walking towards the shop at the same time. I avoided eye contact until we were both near the front. I looked over and he had the largest smile on his face.
"Why are you so happy?" I asked.
"Dunno. Just am," he said.

The end.

Now I'm watching Wild Child and wondering why Emma Roberts looks about 12 in the movie?

Finally, I am incredibly tempted to cut all my hair off when I get it done this Friday. But how? The thing is, I love how short hair looks in movies and TV shows but a) I have Asian hair and b) I never style my hair. Case in point:

I think most of why I like this movie is because I adore Ginnifer Goodwin's hair in it. It's so perky and bouncy and lush. My hair is none of these things. But I'm so sick of it hanging lank around my face like a flaccid penis (totes just went there). So now what?

J

The Glory of Chinese Food

There's nothing quite like it.

Some days, I am very indifferent to my Chinese-hood. Other days, like today, I am very grateful for it. Particularly when I get to enjoy really good food. I'm talking that really good, special occasion stuff. The lobster egg noodles (say no more or I will cream my pants right here), salted egg fried prawns, century egg spinach (I don't even like century egg but with spinach, it's delicious), yam basket, dried scallop soup.

I've only had the pleasure of eating a full course Chinese banquet a handful of times in my life. But it literally is an amazing experience. Once was at a dinner while I was in Melbourne for my cousin's wedding. They are rich. It was like I was feasting as an oriental princess, living it up in the Qing dynasty (I don't even know what shit I'm talking now). We had roasted quail, scallops three ways in the shell. That's pretty much all I remember but I know the rest was magnificent.

I feel like I'm allowed into this secret garden that only Chinese people are allowed into when I eat this stuff. Other people who eat Chinese food don't eat the same stuff or would likely not appreciate the more traditional dishes. Century egg is essentially black, sloppy jelly. Yam has a really gluey texture and is reasonably tasteless. But for some reason Chinese people love it. I love eating one of these dinners with a bunch of Australian born Chinese teenagers and young adults. Boisterous with their hearty Australian accents (again, talking such shit that I should courtesy flush right now) but with chopstick skills taught by their parents from infancy, who never pour tea for themselves first but always for their neighbour and who fucking love century egg.

J

He's Outside

A computer was stolen from Officeworks today. Hilarious. Apparently, he walked right out of the store with it. And I was serving at the cash register.

That makes me sounds more terrible than I really am. It was a busy wave and I was... well, busy. This guy that stole the computer lives down my street. He's a mentally disabled lad and comes into the store regularly, usually vandalizing stuff, opening boxes or stuffing portable hard drives into his backpack. He's supposed to have a carer with him at all times but clearly doesn't. It's actually pretty depressing.

I only found out he'd walked out when one of the customers said to me, "You know some guy just walked out with a computer, right?"

I looked at her, dumbstruck. Evidently not.

Another couple who were standing nearby came back in a minute later and told me he was sitting on the limestone wall, pulling the thing apart. I told my manager. She ran out with one of the tech guys (K, R's bosom buddy). Apparently, when K saw the guy pulling the computer apart, he sprinted up to him. The guy kept saying, "Sorry, sorry." Then he went into Harvey Norman. K saw him so went in to warn the Harvey Norman manager. They found the guy behind one of the counters, stuffing digital cameras into his bag.

It's so stupid. I know this guy. He lives down my street with his dad who I assume is a single parent because I've never seen the mum. He went to our high school. If he keeps going like this, he's going to have the police on his ass. He was banned from our store and Harvey Norman with the threat of police action if he came back. Props to the fact that my manager didn't call the police even though the guy basically decimated a really expensive computer (the whole thing was literally ripped apart with his bare hands) but he's going to keep shoplifting and vandalizing and getting himself into trouble unless he gets some help and someone to look after him properly.

Sah sad.

J

Sense & Sensibility

Sense & Sensibility is quickly rivalling my feelings for Pride & Prejudice as my favourite Jane Austen book. To be sure, there is nothing quite so frivolously romantic as Pride & Prejudice but I feel like Sense & Sensibility has more of a moral tone and therefore less fluffy.

It has also give rise to, hilariously, one of my new favourite movies; From Prada to Nada. On the other hand, Pride & Prejudice has given rise to my all time favourite movie (which some detest but which made me love Keira Knightley, want to impregnate Rosamund Pike, want to make Carey Mulligan my best friend and want to buy a corset), the 2005 version.

So many conflicting motions. I have to go watch the 2008 miniseries version of Sense & Sensibility now (I get so excited when I find unwatched BBC miniseries versions of Jane Austen books and similar authors).

Honourable mention to the fact that Chobani is going on sale at Woolworths tomorrow (10 for $10). I'm getting major anxiety about this and need to hit up Woolworths first thing in the morning. I think this is revealing the fact that I am a stupid nervous wreck inside (often poorly hidden from the rest of the world) as I have fears that they will all be sold out by the time I get there or that the sale will mysteriously be cancelled when I go.

For lols, here is a list of my favourite flavours:

• Peach
• Pear
• Lemon
• Pineapple
• Blueberry 
• Mango
• Strawberry 

J

Beanballs

Yesterday, I made beanballs (like meatballs but made with beans). The ingredients as follows:

• Butter beans
• Sriracha 
• Egg
• Oats (to replace bread crumbs)
• Worcestershire sauce
• Curry powder
• Soy sauce
• Mirin 
• Chinese black bean and garlic sauce
• Garlic 
• Salt (way overkill with all the salty condiments I put in; I'm sah stupid)
• Pepper  

These ingredients (basically everything in my fridge and pantry) have produced some of the most phenomenal beanballs I have ever made (to be fair, this is the first time I've ever made beanballs but I've made a lot of vegetarian burgers before). They are so spicy and tasty. 

Today, I ate them wrapped in lettuce with roast pumpkin and carrots and cucumber, all dipped in watered down hoisin sauce. It was like eating heaven. I swear, once I move out of home and start cooking for myself, I am going to be the healthiest little bitch in existence.

J

It Was About Tom Hardy

"I'd tap that until one of us has to be hospitalized."

Oh, my word. I am dying at this comment (on ontd if you must know).

J