The one where the long weekend becomes like this thing where I start from scratch & stuff

Image by By Lou Levit from Unsplash website

Image by By Lou Levit from Unsplash

It happens every year. A long weekend rolls around and I have to look at it as the first – and last! – time I reset, re-evaluate and basically get my shit together.  This year was no different.  In fact, this year was worse, coz I feel like at the age of *mumblemumblemumble* I should have my shit together.  So I made the following promises to myself on Thursday morning:

  1. To clean the kitchen table, A.K.A the dumping ground for all unread mail, brochures, receipts that I wanted to keep and random magazines I have been meaning to read (I don’t know why, but I have been holding on to TWO issues of Peninsula Living.  I’m not even from the Northern Beaches originally).
  2. To do aaaaall my laundry and get rid of all the clothes I no longer wear and head on down with all my good-but-unloved clothing to the local Lifeline.
  3. To catch up and clear my to-do list for my Maysays stuff.  All unwritten articles so I’m ahead.  All unread emails so I’m aware.  Lists, plans and ideas to action.
  4. To get really stuck into building up on my new site My Local World so it doesn’t feel like I’m living in a fantasy land and this will only be of benefit for me.

Did I do any of these things over the long weekend? Yes and no.  I did a lot of no. 3, which was good and really helped get me into actual working week mode for the short week ahead.  I partially did no. 2 because I needed clean undies and I was also wondering where a certain white shirt had gone and I found it somewhere in the depths of my laundry pile so I cleaned all those things out of necessity more than anything.  I’m about to do no. 4. I did a bit of no. 1 as the hubs and I were catching up on Empire (I was channelling Cookie whilst doing that task).

But I don’t feel like I changed the course of my life in four days, the way I think I will every year after the Easter break.  This break means more to me in this way than the start of a new year.  Maybe because there’s so much more at stake at the start of the year, and by the time Easter rolls around you’ve already got 3 months under your belt to assess how this year will go if you continue to travel the way you do.

I feel OK. I feel like at least it was like years ago when I really didn’t know what to do with myself.  At least now I have goals. Even if they are just based predominantly on domestic chores.

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A soothing novel in twelve short paragraphs …

“It was summer, and it was hot. Rachel was there. A lonely old grey couch. And the kingdom was theirs forever, the end!”.

Another Sunday night in, another night of remembering lines from F.R.I.E.N.D.S.  Lines I’ve known since forever, lines I probably know a little too well.  Most of my internal dialogue derives from pop culture. It’s the greatest thing, to know that film and television shape your thoughts to the point where you don’t know what’s original and what’s something you’ve heard before.

Jack Johnson is on the stereo. Another thing I’ve been listening to since forever. My appreciation of him is really just as much about his music as it is about the fact that I just think he’d be a really cool person to be friends with.  And he seems so chilled out.  And despite being around for ages, he hasn’t really done anything celebrity-ish like star in a reality show, release a line of cologne, date a supermodel or start a twitter rant about another artists.  Cudos, Jacko, for not being a f**kwit.

When I’m done here, I’m going to watch an episode of Doctor Who with husband. He’s the only person I know who loves it with all his heart and soul. And he’s not even British. And now watching it puts me in a good mood, because it means if I’m watching it, then I am relaxing and sharing in his nerdiness. Not even sharing in it, but actively allowing it.  Like I’m not a nerd myself.  I read somewhere once that “nerds will rule the world”.  I am a massive nerd and I don’t rule a thing.

Fifth paragraph

Sixth paragraph

Seventh paragraph

Eighth paragraph

Ninth paragraph

Tenth paragraph

Eleventh paragraph

Twelfth paragraph

This post was a writer’s block exercise called “Write a soothing novel in twelve short paragraphs” taken from Language is a Virus, and I swear I can’t make it to 12 paragraphs right now.

Articumalationising

Writing notes for a review (The Zero Theorem, Terry Gilliam’s new film), and this is my best note from it:

Bob, the young guy in the movie, is like the Andrew Garfield character from the Heath Ledger movie in the other Terry Gilliam film.

Written in a dark screening room with very little coffee.

I will refine and it will be brilliant.

 

The longest Thursday ever in the history of long Thursdays …

Coz everyone needs a little Tina and Jimmy to brighten up their week. I miss 30 Rock (even though I can watch the whole series at home at any given time) and I don’t get to watch full eps of Jimmy Fallon (due to you know, geography and such).

A day without laughter is a day wasted.

Maths

Conversation between me and my 15 year cousin yesterday:

Me: Come on, quick!
Him: I have homework
Me: I’ll help you. What is it?
Him: Maths
*Pause*
Me: Oh can’t help you

So it was me and his 9 year old sister who cleaned up the purple glitter we spilled all over her bedroom floor (another story, another time).

On the up side, I did get a homemade bracelet out of the visit. And I learnt my limit. Everything on his workbook page looked like code. Maths …

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!

Going to the chapel and I’m going to go broke …

Have possibly booked date for wedding reception.

I guess that’s the beginning, really, of all the wedding bru-ha-ha that follows?  Ironic, coz I got engaged MID LAST YEAR but my bretrothed and I have been sitting on our merry little asses trying to deny the impending financial nightmare that comes with celebrating a commitment to have and to hold as long as we both shall live.

I do NOT want to spend a ridiculous amount of money on this wedding. But it can’t be helped, it seems, because every time I make an enquiry about booking something or other, and I stick the word “wedding”, in the sentence, the price goes up by A THOUSAND PERCENT.

Here’s what I’m finding whilst organising the supposed happiest day of my life:

  • Pictures of wedding dresses on wedding dress models online or in those wedding magazines are HORRIFIC. All shiny and weird, like a car. Pictures of brides on their wedding day, regardless of style (or price) of dress? Beautiful. Can’t they make catalogues of actual women on their wedding day wearing their dresses?
  • The wedding dresses I have liked are very expensive. Unless this dress also transforms into an automobile post party, I don’t like these prices at all 😦
  • I’ve seen fake cakes people can buy for just their wedding photos. Fake cakes?!?!?!
  • Some venues charge extra for little things like, ohhh I dunno, a knife to cut the wedding cake with. And AV systems. Waaaaaaah!

The happiest day will be when it’s all paid for. Paid FOR, not paid off.

Whilst I am loving being engaged and looking forward to being married, I am not loving this planning the wedding part. In fact, I am going on record as saying I am not going to Bridezilla my wedding. I’m going to Bridepoohpooh it!