I am reading The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand. It's good, I think Little Mishelle should read it as it is about architecture. Well, about an architect. In fact, it's not about architecture at all. It's written about architects and architecture in the way you can write about any topic, throw in a few references but focus more on the people and le drama rather than the subject itself.
Like Bold & the Beautiful. It's about a bunch of fashion designers, right? But besides the odd fashion show, they don't actually talk about fashion designing at all. Maybe a bit of drama about how, OH, MY GOD, that bitch at Forrester Creations stole our designs! But other than that, it's more about how many people Brooke Logan has married in the last 20 or so years or however long she's been on there.
In other news, holy hell, I could listen to Rihanna every minute of the day. Breaking out into dance to Rihanna makes me feel so minxy regardless of how stodgily dressed I am (often in two day old t-shirts and shorts from my childhood) and how poor a dancer I am. She also reassures me that I can find love in a hopeless place.
J
About Me
- Junaberry
- I'm a student from Australia who used to have a lot of time on her hands but doesn't have that much anymore. Now she has other stuff on her hands.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Monday, January 30, 2012
Sad Times Ensue
I am putting myself on another self-imposed internet ban for the next week excepting facebook, e-mail and blogging.
It's like how I said to Little Mishelle today... You don't get an alcoholic to give up alcohol for a week as a means of cutting down his/her consumption in the long run then give them free rein to the hooch after that week ends. It's just not sustainable.
In case you are confused by this anal-ogy (hurr), I am the ALCOHOLIC.
My eyes are red and stinging, my foot has pins and needles, I've probably used half the month's bandwith in two days. I need limits, guys.
I went on an insane rampage last night, catching up on the billion or so blogs and sites I follow. One week's worths of internet goodness crammed into 1.5 days. Guys, it was insanity and obviously unhealthy.
J
It's like how I said to Little Mishelle today... You don't get an alcoholic to give up alcohol for a week as a means of cutting down his/her consumption in the long run then give them free rein to the hooch after that week ends. It's just not sustainable.
In case you are confused by this anal-ogy (hurr), I am the ALCOHOLIC.
My eyes are red and stinging, my foot has pins and needles, I've probably used half the month's bandwith in two days. I need limits, guys.
I went on an insane rampage last night, catching up on the billion or so blogs and sites I follow. One week's worths of internet goodness crammed into 1.5 days. Guys, it was insanity and obviously unhealthy.
J
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Recent Reads
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (Ken Kesey): Brilliant. I haven't finished it yet but it is brilliant. I know what to do if I get committed to Greylands now.
The Bell Jar (Sylvia Plath): Female equivalent of The Catcher in the Rye which, as some people know, I actually really like in spite of the many snide (and hilarious) comments people like Clinton have made about it in the past (he should have a book review website filled with hilar one liners about Sally Morgan and Holden Caulfield). Very similar tone filled with dry observations and kind of bland recounts of her (Esther's) sad life (it's actually only sad to her, I kind of think it's an okay life).
The Hunger Games (Suzanne Collins): I was kind of disappointed to be honest... It was exciting (at parts) but it kind of lacked the emotion and exhiliration I was expecting. So many people talked about the great relationship between Rue and Katniss but I never saw it. In fact, I thought all they had was 5 minutes and that was it. I think the movie will be a lot better.
Mansfield Park (Jane Austen): I kind of hate Fanny and I've had enough of the cousin loving for a lifetime. "Keeping the bloodlines close." That's romance.
Persuasion (Jane Austen): My second favourite Jane Austen. It's kind of a long novella, it has a simply storyline but it's completely romantic and the two lovers are not cousins, thank God.
Full Dark, No Stars (Stephen King): I kind of had heart palpitations after reading this. When I was a kid, I got scared of everything... And when I say "kid," I mean until I was 15 because at 15 I got scared of everything still. Watching Lost was like watching the most horrorful horror move in the world because that scared the shit out of me. Watching Desperate Housewives occasionally scared the crap out of me. Watching Round the Twist scared the crap out of me. In fact, When a Stranger Calls (the Camilla Belle one, not the original) is the scariest movie I've seen to date and apparently that's the least scary movie out of them all. But I think things started scaring me less after the age of 15 and now I love Law & Order: SVU. But reading Full Dark, No Stars scared the fucking shit out of me. Just so you know, never follow directions from ugly book store owners if they tell you to take some strange (to you) road because you WILL get raped by some huge and insane hillbilly with his cock "moving inside you like a door that needs oiling" (that is not verbatim but there's a similar line in one of the novellas in the book that will forever be ingrained in my head much like a nail).
J
The Bell Jar (Sylvia Plath): Female equivalent of The Catcher in the Rye which, as some people know, I actually really like in spite of the many snide (and hilarious) comments people like Clinton have made about it in the past (he should have a book review website filled with hilar one liners about Sally Morgan and Holden Caulfield). Very similar tone filled with dry observations and kind of bland recounts of her (Esther's) sad life (it's actually only sad to her, I kind of think it's an okay life).
The Hunger Games (Suzanne Collins): I was kind of disappointed to be honest... It was exciting (at parts) but it kind of lacked the emotion and exhiliration I was expecting. So many people talked about the great relationship between Rue and Katniss but I never saw it. In fact, I thought all they had was 5 minutes and that was it. I think the movie will be a lot better.
Mansfield Park (Jane Austen): I kind of hate Fanny and I've had enough of the cousin loving for a lifetime. "Keeping the bloodlines close." That's romance.
Persuasion (Jane Austen): My second favourite Jane Austen. It's kind of a long novella, it has a simply storyline but it's completely romantic and the two lovers are not cousins, thank God.
Full Dark, No Stars (Stephen King): I kind of had heart palpitations after reading this. When I was a kid, I got scared of everything... And when I say "kid," I mean until I was 15 because at 15 I got scared of everything still. Watching Lost was like watching the most horrorful horror move in the world because that scared the shit out of me. Watching Desperate Housewives occasionally scared the crap out of me. Watching Round the Twist scared the crap out of me. In fact, When a Stranger Calls (the Camilla Belle one, not the original) is the scariest movie I've seen to date and apparently that's the least scary movie out of them all. But I think things started scaring me less after the age of 15 and now I love Law & Order: SVU. But reading Full Dark, No Stars scared the fucking shit out of me. Just so you know, never follow directions from ugly book store owners if they tell you to take some strange (to you) road because you WILL get raped by some huge and insane hillbilly with his cock "moving inside you like a door that needs oiling" (that is not verbatim but there's a similar line in one of the novellas in the book that will forever be ingrained in my head much like a nail).
J
Taylor and the Tale of Her Two Coats
http://ohnotheydidnt.livejournal.com/65979193.html#cutid1
It cracks me up that Taylor has the same coat in two different colours. It's sort of a thing that I would do. Except I bet she did it because she liked the coat a whole lot, not just (or at all) because it was cheap.
Also, jfc, stop straightening your hair, you damn hypocritical oaf.
J
It cracks me up that Taylor has the same coat in two different colours. It's sort of a thing that I would do. Except I bet she did it because she liked the coat a whole lot, not just (or at all) because it was cheap.
Also, jfc, stop straightening your hair, you damn hypocritical oaf.
J
Friday, January 27, 2012
The Key to Not... is to Not
I'll be honest. I stopped my Internet Abstinence this afternoon at 3.30pm. I was at uni, waiting for my brother, and super bored. He had a thing to go to there and was driving so I tagged along to see the nurse regarding my vaccinations.
Holla! Immune to tetanus, Hep B, other stuff and I don't have TB. The nurse said, "And negative for TB," and, in the way we talked about in FCP about some Aboriginal people or refugees who don't understand this medical terminology, I panicked for a second thinking "negative" was something bad and I probably had TB. But I don't. Rest assured.
I feel cleansed and sated with my week (okay, a bit less) of absintence. It had been quite enlightening.
J
Holla! Immune to tetanus, Hep B, other stuff and I don't have TB. The nurse said, "And negative for TB," and, in the way we talked about in FCP about some Aboriginal people or refugees who don't understand this medical terminology, I panicked for a second thinking "negative" was something bad and I probably had TB. But I don't. Rest assured.
I feel cleansed and sated with my week (okay, a bit less) of absintence. It had been quite enlightening.
J
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Until Sunday
I am taking an internet hiatus for a week. I will return on Sunday to regale you with more tales from my exceptionally interesting and tumultuous life. Be prepared for tales about my new secret lover, Antonio, my new best friend who does NOT have the name Michelle, the varying and glorious breakfasts I have been eating (NOT porridge every single day... today I had apple porridge and it was foul, I was nauseous afterwards) and many other interesting things.
Before I go: Happy Chinese New Year.
I am so jazzed for the feast I will be consuming tonight. I don't even care about the calories. I will stuff my face with the best stuff (except the century egg, I will gladly give my share to gramps who loves that stuff) that Chinese cuisine has to offer, especially this: http://rasamalaysia.com/lobster-yee-mein-lobster-noodles-recipe/ which we basically only have on CNY and maybe once more during the year (someone's birthday). It is glorious. Kim and I once had this fantastic conversation about lobster yee min.
It went like this:
Kim: Yesterday, at my work dinner, we had these noodles with lobster and etc. etc. How can I describe it?
Me: Let me stop you right there, Kimmy. I know just the noodles you speak of. Let me hug you and rejoice with you in this grand feast you have consumed yesterday.
Then we hugged and skipped off merrily.
Farewell. Until Sunday, my loves.
J
Before I go: Happy Chinese New Year.
I am so jazzed for the feast I will be consuming tonight. I don't even care about the calories. I will stuff my face with the best stuff (except the century egg, I will gladly give my share to gramps who loves that stuff) that Chinese cuisine has to offer, especially this: http://rasamalaysia.com/lobster-yee-mein-lobster-noodles-recipe/ which we basically only have on CNY and maybe once more during the year (someone's birthday). It is glorious. Kim and I once had this fantastic conversation about lobster yee min.
It went like this:
Kim: Yesterday, at my work dinner, we had these noodles with lobster and etc. etc. How can I describe it?
Me: Let me stop you right there, Kimmy. I know just the noodles you speak of. Let me hug you and rejoice with you in this grand feast you have consumed yesterday.
Then we hugged and skipped off merrily.
Farewell. Until Sunday, my loves.
J
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Fridays are for Fighting
My mum and dad fight a lot:
1. I've mentioned this before. My mum and I came home from Melbourne. My dad and brother wanted us to buy Krispy Kremes for them. Because we were taking Tiger Airways, the budget airport we were at is not in the central one which contains the Krispy Kreme shop. We came back donutless. They didn't speak for three days.
2. My mum sneezes. My dad asks her why she has to sneeze so loud. She says everybody has a right to sneeze. Angry silence ensues.
3. Mum is making food to take to family friend's house for dinner. Mum wants to put carrots in. Dad says to put two in. Mum wants to put one in. Angry carrot cutting.
4. This one happens all the fucking time. It's nighttime. Dad wants to open all the windows to "air the house." Mum says the windows have been open all day, it'll be cold and everyone wants to go to sleep already. Dad says it's stuffy inside and opens all the windows. Stomping off to bed in a huff, me sighing on the couch, wondering if I will ever be like this with my future partner.
5. Dad is a hoarder (a bit like me). Buys 10 cans of chickpeas. Buys five tins of sardines. Buys 10 boxes of Weet-Bix after my brother and I go through a two week phase of eating them for breakfast everyday. Now, we have 10 boxes of them in the backroom. He comes back with six cans of baby corn (which we rarely use), mum asks him why, for the love of God, why. He has no comment but is angry anyway.
6. This one happened just this morning. They are in the kitchen. He pours milk into his coffee, she asks him to hand it over. I wasn't there to see but I heard the following: the milk drops (luckily closed). Dad tells her off, she says that he was the one who did it, why is he telling her off? Fridge door bangs shut.
J
1. I've mentioned this before. My mum and I came home from Melbourne. My dad and brother wanted us to buy Krispy Kremes for them. Because we were taking Tiger Airways, the budget airport we were at is not in the central one which contains the Krispy Kreme shop. We came back donutless. They didn't speak for three days.
2. My mum sneezes. My dad asks her why she has to sneeze so loud. She says everybody has a right to sneeze. Angry silence ensues.
3. Mum is making food to take to family friend's house for dinner. Mum wants to put carrots in. Dad says to put two in. Mum wants to put one in. Angry carrot cutting.
4. This one happens all the fucking time. It's nighttime. Dad wants to open all the windows to "air the house." Mum says the windows have been open all day, it'll be cold and everyone wants to go to sleep already. Dad says it's stuffy inside and opens all the windows. Stomping off to bed in a huff, me sighing on the couch, wondering if I will ever be like this with my future partner.
5. Dad is a hoarder (a bit like me). Buys 10 cans of chickpeas. Buys five tins of sardines. Buys 10 boxes of Weet-Bix after my brother and I go through a two week phase of eating them for breakfast everyday. Now, we have 10 boxes of them in the backroom. He comes back with six cans of baby corn (which we rarely use), mum asks him why, for the love of God, why. He has no comment but is angry anyway.
6. This one happened just this morning. They are in the kitchen. He pours milk into his coffee, she asks him to hand it over. I wasn't there to see but I heard the following: the milk drops (luckily closed). Dad tells her off, she says that he was the one who did it, why is he telling her off? Fridge door bangs shut.
J
Consumption
Today:
Breakfast: half a cup of uncooked quick oats... cooked (mostly water + splash of milk), handful of frozen blueberries.
Elevenses: seven carrot sticks dipped in homemade hummus (it's basically just blended chickpeas with sesame seeds, a little oil and a little garlic).
Lunch: three Vietnamese summer rolls (I am an amazing summer roll roller. And modest) + plum (because I wanted something sweet and was greedy).
Three thirtyitis: (not yet consumed but have set aside) five cashews, five almonds, 20g sultanas, fruit of some kind.
Dinner: nfi.
I keep noticing this difference between how I like/make/eat my porridge and how other people do. I like my porridge super moist and super runny. I basically have a 3:1 ratio of liquid to uncooked oats. Whereas I find (on a lot of the food blogs I read) a lot of people have a 1:1 ratio and eat porridge that's not dissimilar from half-set cement which I find repulsive but they seem to enjoy.
I mean, what the hell is this? http://www.flickr.com/photos/marti_m/6715493903/in/photostream
I guess it looks fairly tasty (I know Little Mishelle is going to reply with a spiel about ooh! Cashews!) but it just looks so dry to me. Like eating sludge instead of a warm and comforting slurry. This is probably more how I eat my oats: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidhAmFtx02t_TaICeFa6uDl3u685GpovRKe01ktuMH-cii4DuV2cbobu2FG-jCFqNfXGT1d8NnyTxPWAA_Za-1_iGTeAf-rVygFSlmJHyNtLD0fHOc-QFN7ezMgx89P44JxaIK1hV4q8U4/s800/Oatmeal+with+Maple+Syrup+and+Brown+Sugar.jpg
Also also, I think I'm going to take down The Affair a few posts down. Thinking about submitting it for a competition or something. If you want to read it (although I doubt anyone does) you can email me and I'll send it to you.
J
Breakfast: half a cup of uncooked quick oats... cooked (mostly water + splash of milk), handful of frozen blueberries.
Elevenses: seven carrot sticks dipped in homemade hummus (it's basically just blended chickpeas with sesame seeds, a little oil and a little garlic).
Lunch: three Vietnamese summer rolls (I am an amazing summer roll roller. And modest) + plum (because I wanted something sweet and was greedy).
Three thirtyitis: (not yet consumed but have set aside) five cashews, five almonds, 20g sultanas, fruit of some kind.
Dinner: nfi.
I keep noticing this difference between how I like/make/eat my porridge and how other people do. I like my porridge super moist and super runny. I basically have a 3:1 ratio of liquid to uncooked oats. Whereas I find (on a lot of the food blogs I read) a lot of people have a 1:1 ratio and eat porridge that's not dissimilar from half-set cement which I find repulsive but they seem to enjoy.
I mean, what the hell is this? http://www.flickr.com/photos/marti_m/6715493903/in/photostream
I guess it looks fairly tasty (I know Little Mishelle is going to reply with a spiel about ooh! Cashews!) but it just looks so dry to me. Like eating sludge instead of a warm and comforting slurry. This is probably more how I eat my oats: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidhAmFtx02t_TaICeFa6uDl3u685GpovRKe01ktuMH-cii4DuV2cbobu2FG-jCFqNfXGT1d8NnyTxPWAA_Za-1_iGTeAf-rVygFSlmJHyNtLD0fHOc-QFN7ezMgx89P44JxaIK1hV4q8U4/s800/Oatmeal+with+Maple+Syrup+and+Brown+Sugar.jpg
Also also, I think I'm going to take down The Affair a few posts down. Thinking about submitting it for a competition or something. If you want to read it (although I doubt anyone does) you can email me and I'll send it to you.
J
Friday, January 20, 2012
Favourite Foods
Comment with your own!
1. Bread (I was destined to be fat).
2. Cake.
3. Oreos.
4. Hokkien mee (momma makes best, everyone else can gtfo).
5. Vietnamese summer rolls (I have them on my birthday every year!).
6. Fruit (in this order: grapes, stone fruit, kiwi, mangoes, cherries, honeydew etc. etc.).
7. Avocado (seriously, it makes EVERYTHING taste betters. Desserts, savouries, even beverages, probably even poo).
8. Oatmeal.
9. Ice cream.
10. Roti parata.
This list was surprisingly really difficult to write. I kept it to simple ingredients (or tried to) so the combinations are endless. Roti parata sandwich: roti + avocado + hokkien mee in bread. Summer oatmeal: oatmeal + ice cream + fruit + oreos. Oreo cake: oreo + cake.
J
1. Bread (I was destined to be fat).
2. Cake.
3. Oreos.
4. Hokkien mee (momma makes best, everyone else can gtfo).
5. Vietnamese summer rolls (I have them on my birthday every year!).
6. Fruit (in this order: grapes, stone fruit, kiwi, mangoes, cherries, honeydew etc. etc.).
7. Avocado (seriously, it makes EVERYTHING taste betters. Desserts, savouries, even beverages, probably even poo).
8. Oatmeal.
9. Ice cream.
10. Roti parata.
This list was surprisingly really difficult to write. I kept it to simple ingredients (or tried to) so the combinations are endless. Roti parata sandwich: roti + avocado + hokkien mee in bread. Summer oatmeal: oatmeal + ice cream + fruit + oreos. Oreo cake: oreo + cake.
J
Hoarding
I think I should be on that TV show. Hoarders.
No, I don't hoard exercise books (well... I kind of do), pens (er), clothes (I can safely say I donate whatever I can't fit into anymore to Salvos regularly!) or my own faeces (err...).
I hoard food.
It started off one morning about a week after I started my healthy lifestyle on the third of January (17 days so far!). We had all these ripe bananas just sitting in our kitchen so I made banana bread. Yum, lots of bananas, handful of walnuts and a smaller handful of mini choc chips. Baked until the top had split in the way that baking powder can only achieve and until it was crispy. Warm out of the oven. Smell so good. Smell so banana. Like fruitatious luxury. So good. Where's my plate? Where's my spoon?
Oh. Wait. I'm not supposed to be eating cake, right? Grandpa eats cake. Grandpa ate a lot of my banana cake. I got worried. I took four pieces (OKAY FINE, FUCK YOU. Six pieces but they were small. The loaf produced probably 20-25 pieces) and froze them in almost four layers of cling wrap (didn't want my precious to dry out, you see) and a plastic takeaway container. All four (OKAY, FINE, six) pieces sit in the freezer, as yet untouched. I want to eat them but I'm supposed to space them out. That was the whole point of freezing them, right?
And then... And then my dad bought Walkers Raspberry Shortbread. And he took them out and put them in the biscuit box (transparent plastic, mocking me) on the kitchen bench (why do you mock me?). Two nights ago, I opened the box at least three times to smell the buttery goodness wafting up. Temptation. Frustration. So bad it makes me cry. Her bus stop. He's waiting. His car is warm and dry.
Sorry.
I took two biscuits, wrapped them in cling wrap, put them in the other biscuit tin (I know... don't judge us for our multiple biscuits tins) in the pantry. They sit there, waiting for me. It is almost a daunting task, spreading out treats. And then... and then I smelled them again and grandpa ate three at breakfast and I said to myself, "I may never have these raspberry shortbread biscuits EVER AGAIN. You have to SEIZE THE DAY. SEIZE IT." So I took two more, wrapped them up individually and put them in the biscuit tin in the pantry.
Now I have 2x2 raspberry shortbread biscuits in the pantry and four (FUCK OFF) pieces of banana bread in the freezer. And it is official. I have become a hoarder. I have become one of those crazy ladies from Minesotta or Milwaukee with a hundred thigh masters and clothes from 50 years ago and stacks of novelty post-its filling up my house. I have become that man who keeps all his tea bags so he can reuse them. Five times.
But don't you tell me to give away my shortbread and banana bread. Just don't do it. It's my only lifeline. The anticipation of sinking my teeth into that perfect golden round of butter, flour and a little raspberry (quantity of ingredients goes in that order). Or into that soft and sweet banana goodness... Perhaps I will microwave it first or should I let it defrost naturally?
By the end of this year, I will have claimed the freezer AND the pantry with five years worth of treats. And I will probably only have had five treats throughout the year.
J
No, I don't hoard exercise books (well... I kind of do), pens (er), clothes (I can safely say I donate whatever I can't fit into anymore to Salvos regularly!) or my own faeces (err...).
I hoard food.
It started off one morning about a week after I started my healthy lifestyle on the third of January (17 days so far!). We had all these ripe bananas just sitting in our kitchen so I made banana bread. Yum, lots of bananas, handful of walnuts and a smaller handful of mini choc chips. Baked until the top had split in the way that baking powder can only achieve and until it was crispy. Warm out of the oven. Smell so good. Smell so banana. Like fruitatious luxury. So good. Where's my plate? Where's my spoon?
Oh. Wait. I'm not supposed to be eating cake, right? Grandpa eats cake. Grandpa ate a lot of my banana cake. I got worried. I took four pieces (OKAY FINE, FUCK YOU. Six pieces but they were small. The loaf produced probably 20-25 pieces) and froze them in almost four layers of cling wrap (didn't want my precious to dry out, you see) and a plastic takeaway container. All four (OKAY, FINE, six) pieces sit in the freezer, as yet untouched. I want to eat them but I'm supposed to space them out. That was the whole point of freezing them, right?
And then... And then my dad bought Walkers Raspberry Shortbread. And he took them out and put them in the biscuit box (transparent plastic, mocking me) on the kitchen bench (why do you mock me?). Two nights ago, I opened the box at least three times to smell the buttery goodness wafting up. Temptation. Frustration. So bad it makes me cry. Her bus stop. He's waiting. His car is warm and dry.
Sorry.
I took two biscuits, wrapped them in cling wrap, put them in the other biscuit tin (I know... don't judge us for our multiple biscuits tins) in the pantry. They sit there, waiting for me. It is almost a daunting task, spreading out treats. And then... and then I smelled them again and grandpa ate three at breakfast and I said to myself, "I may never have these raspberry shortbread biscuits EVER AGAIN. You have to SEIZE THE DAY. SEIZE IT." So I took two more, wrapped them up individually and put them in the biscuit tin in the pantry.
Now I have 2x2 raspberry shortbread biscuits in the pantry and four (FUCK OFF) pieces of banana bread in the freezer. And it is official. I have become a hoarder. I have become one of those crazy ladies from Minesotta or Milwaukee with a hundred thigh masters and clothes from 50 years ago and stacks of novelty post-its filling up my house. I have become that man who keeps all his tea bags so he can reuse them. Five times.
But don't you tell me to give away my shortbread and banana bread. Just don't do it. It's my only lifeline. The anticipation of sinking my teeth into that perfect golden round of butter, flour and a little raspberry (quantity of ingredients goes in that order). Or into that soft and sweet banana goodness... Perhaps I will microwave it first or should I let it defrost naturally?
By the end of this year, I will have claimed the freezer AND the pantry with five years worth of treats. And I will probably only have had five treats throughout the year.
J
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