The only thing you need for a trip is curiosity

Travel. But not just to “exotic” places.

You’ve got a 9-5′er.
You’ve got kids.
You’ve got debt.
You’ve got no money, seriously.
You’ve got an expired passport.

What you’ve got are excuses.

A walk beyond your front door is travel. The only thing you need for a trip is curiosity.

– Something I read off the Matador Network site

In 2009, I was debt-ridden and living back home with the parental unit (thanks Mum! xxx). While friends and family were traipsing the globe having wild adventures, I was stuck in Sydney shovelling money onto my credit card.

I could have lived like a hermit, but I chose instead to discover all the cultural places, food and events that Sydney had to offer, recreating a kind of mini world adventure in my own city. It’s become the way I explore my city now, and finally I am getting serious about it and sharing these amazing finds via a new blog, MY LOCAL WORLD. It’s not ready (yet), but it’s coming, and I can’t wait to see what else is out there, and discover more places with more people!

If you have any suggestions or contacts for anyone wanting to showcase their cultural cuisine, event or spaces, feel free to contact me here or at hello@maysays.com xxx

My Local World ... coming soon to YOUR local world xxx

My Local World … coming soon to YOUR local world xxx

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Push on, move forward …

In the past couple of weeks lots of things I was doing seemed too hard and nothing I was doing seemed to serve any sort of purpose.  I felt like I was going through the motions and I wasn’t getting anywhere with anything.  Everything was too hard.

Then I got overly critical of everything around me. Dishes were piling up. Laundry was piling up. General household cleaning was piling up.  Bloody hell, even was piling up.  I was putting on weight. I wasn’t getting any exercise.  I was eating crap.

And while all these feelings are really phucking terrible, I just realised it was my body’s way (or my brain’s way? I dunno) of saying that things were a bit out of whack, and I had to do something to rectify it.

So what did I do about it?

  1. I reassessed what I was doing. I cut down on things that could be causing me grief, and I worked on things that I thought needed working on.
  2. I stopped delaying the inevitable (i.e. the looming pile of dirty laundry) and stuck them in the washer and just did them, already.
  3. I took a long hard look at my exercise regime (or lack thereof) and told myself I am not deathly ill, so calm down, lady! I am just not as fit as I would like to be, at this stage.  I started making small steps towards a healthier me (I think that’s a health insurance slogan, I dunno) by walking more, going to more yoga classes to improve my wellbeing as well as reminding my body that there is more to movement than typing and reaching for my coffee mug.
  4. As well as that, I recognised my sweet tooth and replaced the odd Killer Python I had in the arvo (coz I still eat like I’m 11, I know, I know …) with actual food recognisable by Mother Nature.  You know, fruit and shit.

I basically told myself that I had to change my lifestyle to get what I wanted, and that is a MAJOR thing, so it is naturally going to be difficult.  But if I approach my game plan as a long-term work in progress, instead of having an end goal, then I’d be easier on myself and not beat myself up if I have a setback.

I tell myself that life is not a race, it’s a marathon, so we have to pace ourselves.

Having said that, I now push on, move forward, put one foot in front of the other and just keep going.  I know there are lots of people who are in considerably more pain than I am in, and they have to deal with so many more obstacles, and I’m certainly not trying to compare myself with anyone with real problems.

But on a day to day level, I try to remember that life is OK, everything is going to be OK, and in a year’s time, I’ll remind myself of how far I’ve come, because I think back to this time last year and I’m glad of what I’ve accomplished in this time.

End rant.

Not every day is a party where you don crazy headgear and booze on ...

Not every day is a party where you don crazy headgear and booze on …

My ovaries exploded

I’m not a die-hard fan of Bruno Mars. I’m not “in the red zone”, so to speak. And I’m not even pregnant. But this, ohhh lord, this clip!

See, some people need a sugar hit in the afternoon, but this is my sugar this afternoon. Check the expression on this kid’s face! Well done to Ellen for not cracking up laughing during his little performance!

The Happiest Sushi People in St Leonards

800px-Western_Sushi

Today I went to get sushi from the little sushi shop (or hut, more like), near the Platform 9 and 3/4 tunnel near St Leonards station.  There are 4 people who operate the shop:

1. Head chef (I think). Fatherly figure. Wears glasses, always ready with a smile

2. Main lady behind counter. Quick, business-like, cheerful. Always ready with a smile

3. BBQ beef guy, who mans the BBQ beef station near the front window of the shop. Also wears glasses. Not so quick with the smiles but that’s probably because he’s so busy with this cooking and grilling and bbq’ing.

3. Other lady behind counter. Maaaaaan, this woman is cheery. Always, always, always ready with a smile. She is never NOT smiling.

I walk in dazed. I’ve spent the past 5 hours staring at my computer screen in the office, amending copy for things like bluetooth bracelets and discounted accommodation in Noosa. All I can think of is the unread emails in my inbox, the un-crossed-out items on my to-do list, and the end of the day. I could’ve been standing next to a giraffe, and I wouldn’t have noticed.

Cheery woman, all happy, pops up out of nowhere. No, not really. She popped into my line of vision. She had probably been standing there all arvo, it was the lunchtime rush after all.

Her: Hello hello!
Me, deadpan: Hey there.
Her: What can I get you today?

I’m scanning the sushi display and although I could smash a couple of salmon sushi thingys today, especially with the mayo on them I like, my eyes travel over the head of Cheery Lady and up to the board behind the counter. There’s ramen and udon and bibimbap and other dishes. The ramen looks tasty. I’m intrigued.

Me, to Cheery Lady: I think I’ll have the ramen with chicken?

All of a sudden, Main Lady and Head Chef appear at Cheery Lady’s side.  They look concerned.

Main Lady: Are you sure ramen?
Me: Ummm, yeh?
Cheery Lady: You don’t like spice, you say before. Ramen is spicy!
Me: Like, how spicy?
Main Lady: No, too spicy. What about udon?
Me: Ummm … ok

I feel a little defeated. I can’t believe I’m being denied my choice by food, no less! Spice, man! Spice is what gives variety to life, spice is great, there were 5 spicy women in Spice Girls who peppered my experience of the late 90s. What’s a bit of spice gonna do? Also, the image on the board looks  a m a z i n g ! 

Then, like a knight in a chef’s outfit, Head Chef says, What if I make the ramen less spicy?

I’m back on board. Main Lady nods wisely, Cheery Lady’s head nodding is much more enthusiastic.  I’m all for it. Load me up, I say bravely. I’m smiling as widely as Cheery Lady now.

My day’s looking brighter. I didn’t sit for 5 bloody hours only to have my lunchtime choice vetoed! Oh no, sir! The universe saw I wanted ramen, and the universe is delivering. The Universe, capital “U”, and all!

In less that 10 minutes, my ramen and noodles with chicken is delivered to me in a takeaway bowl so I can return, triumphant, back to the office to eat slurp soup and noodles at my desk like the hero I am, clearing my inbox whilst simultaneously dying on the inside.

Head Chef hands the bowl over like a proud chef handing over a meal he partially modified to appease a non-balls customer.  He says, If it’s still too spicy for you, just add a bit of hot water to it. 

I am so touched by this culinary gesture, that I thank you, thank you so much profusely to everyone in there, including the BBQ guy, who had nothing to do with my meal. Head Chef gives me a little chuckle and a wave.  Main Lady gives me an Enjoy! before I head out the door. One last look, and Cheery Lady is smiling and nodding intensely in my direction, as if to say, you’llloveityou’llloveityou’llloveityou’llloveit! 

Back at the office, I plop down in my seat and peel off the plastic lid. Steam rises from the bowl like a magical expectation. The soup is somewhat red in colour. Dear god, that’s the spice, right? The noodles are loopy and fat and sloppy. The chicken are logs of kastu joy. I’m ready.

The first slurp tells me, yep, I’m cool with this. Not spicy. The second slurp does the same. The third and the fourth, still nothing. I can’t believe this, I’m doing it! I’m really doing it!

I eagerly hack into my noodles. Yum yum yum, everything is all good. There’s a satisfying feeling in the pit of my belly that comes with hoovering down carbs, and it’s happening again with these noodles. I am in my happy place. I’m like Po from Kung Fu Panda when he’s eating. I’m smiling all over.

Then the spice hits me. Not all at once, but it had been building for a while. I try to deny it by slurping down more soup, more noodles, even charging in on the chicken which I had planned to eat halfway through my bowl, but the spice is still there, and it’s not going anywhere. Head Chef told me, f it’s still too spicy for you, just add a bit of hot water to it, but I’m already re-stamping my ass into my seat, and the kitchen is like, over there, so I don’t want to get up for the hot water.  I’m going to have to deal with the spice like a grown-up. I’m eating slower now, carefully, so as not to keel over from extreme spiciness.

Ten easy email replies, two medium-ish tasks and 45 minutes later, the bowl of ramen noodles is sitting half eaten to the side of my computer screen. The chicken pieces are gone, they are the only bits not affected by the spice invasion. I should’ve heeded Head Chef’s warning after all.

Later that afternoon, I head out the door to the 7Eleven to grab a Dare Iced Coffee and promise myself to get the udon noodles or the salmon sushi on Monday.

The staff warned me. At least they were nice enough to do that. I’ll go back just for their cheeriness!

Trying to be a morning person …

… but it’s so damn hard!

My bed feels like a cloud

It even smells like sleep (in a good way)

My boy snores in bed next to me, so that just makes me not want to get up. How am I supposed to get up when someone else isn’t. Ironically, he gets up before me. Fail on me.

I go to bed at like, 2am most nights (lol, nights) so I’m phuckn buggered when it’s normal person morning time

I need ACTUAL FOOLPROOF TIPS for becoming a morning person.

Step one, sleep earlier the night before.  I geddit.

How do I not get hit by a bus?

I’m gonna die of stupid someday. How did I get through all these years without being hit by a bus? I’m gonna die alone a crazy cat lady, if the stupidity doesn’t get me first.

Today I had a minor meltdown on the bus on the way home from work after staying back late. I sat in my seat furiously blinking away the tears as I stared into the pages of my book, ironically called How to be Good, even thought I felt so so so so bad.  The book’s actually pretty brilliant, even if it is taking me twice as long to read, because, in a recent state of stupidity, I no longer have the concentration needed to get to the bottom of a page in a paperback novel.

I get home from work only to realise I have next to no clean underwear left for tomorrow and am now reduced to wearing bikini bottoms in lieu of fresh laundry.

funny-memes-thanks-for-ordering

I forgot to renew my car insurance and car rego.

I haven’t eaten dinner yet but I think it’s too late coz it’s 12:30am.

Even though I’ve said that, I am still thinking of watching an episode of something – Communitymaybe? I have yet to decide.

Spoke to my dad on the phone earlier this evening and he asked how the wedding planning was going. Yeh, it’s not, although I do very much enjoy visiting all the lovely reception venues my fiancee and I are unable to afford. Correction, able to afford but unwilling to pay for because we still do want to have some leftover money for things like rent and going out.

How does a seemingly fully functioning adult let everything fall by the wayside? What’s the matter with me?!?!

I want to crawl into a hole containing a chaise lounge, a bucket of popcorn, a 1L bottle of Fanta, a TV and all 10 seasons of Friends ready to go.

Can I do that? Can I just skip out on life for a while?