Cheeses (said like Jesus)

This was not how I intended to start the new year, but in my search for person dressed as cheese (an image to simulate my good self), I found an interesting cheese-based discussion. I have summarised the key points below:

Cows cheese is made of cows milk.

Goats cheese of goats milk.

So, can you make human cheese from breast milk?

(and then there a bunch of stuff about how the guy initiating the discussion was a wierdo.)

Anyway, you will be interested to hear the answer is no. You can't make cheese because the breast milk doesn't curdle. For a blow by blow account of one woman's attempt (with photos), look here. Kind of gross, but some interesting comments - the biggest weiner sign-off must the person that refers to themselves as a 'concerned human being'.

Happy new year!

Kitty, also concerned x

me but more organised and with nicer handwriting

It is lucky this Christmas-New Years window comes but once a year; if I ate this much cheese in real life I would be the size of a house.

This morning, in a fit of self-flagellation (post drinking/cheese eating) I went to Chadstone, my need for heavily reduced sheet sets and underwear having finally reached a tipping point. I am convinced these, coupled with some tupperware, will help make me a more well rounded person come January 1. i.e. I will be like this, but be clever on other days too:

Alas, my good friend Chaddy was a great disappointment. I was braced for horrendous-ness: no parking, swarms of desperados (self included) stepping over one another for bargains, etc. but it was a bit of a non-event. Not only is everyone out of town, but the economy must be in crisis... I was even able to find somewhere to sit in the food court! Bizarre not having to eat a hot potato while lingering over a table of slow eaters. While this was pleasant enough, I am still without sheets/underwear.

In other news, Carney and I went to the cricket - I gave him tickets for Christmas and learnt a valuable lesson in gift giving: don't give someone a gift you would not want yourself. Thankfully we went on Wednesday. We arrived at 11am and the game was over by noon - 2 wickets in 1 hour! I was left with the (I suspect) false impression that cricket is actually an interesting/fast moving game.

Stay tuned for more of the riveting adventures of a Christmas-New Year spent in Melbourne.

Kitty x

busy bees, the bees knees and other bee sayings

Carney believes in the magical powers of honey. I am bit dubious: a) I don't like honey and b) his winning argument is that his 90 year old Grandmother says honey is good for you. I'm not sure what exactly is the basis for her being an authority on matters of honey - I think it is because she is old.


Anyway, Carney loves honey. He purchased 28 kilos from a honeyman called Tony Bee in Eden while we were on our Honeymoon Mark 1. Tony Bee is apparently his real name; it is just luck (according to Carney) that he makes honey. The 28 kilos is long gone now; even if he gave half away that's about a kilo a month - an impressive feat (assuming you are impressed by the consumption of large amounts of honey... but then, who isn't?).


To sate his appetitie for proper non-heat treated honey, Carney and I went to a beekeeping workshop at CERES for his birthday. Here we learnt everything about making honey - from setting up a hive, to donning the bee hats and pulling out the honeycomb to producing jars of honey. It was pretty cool and people actually do this in the city - you can have a hive in your own backyard and some offices in the CBD even have them on their rooftops, quite amazing. Check us out:
















That hat was very hard to see out of - I can now see why, it is all twisted. I think that women is looking at me with awe, it's hard to discern in this exact photo, but she definitely was.


Kitty x

jingle my bells

Someone has spewed tinsel all over our office. It was Helen the admin lady who now comments on the aesthetic superiority of our area relative to others (a blatent lie). She has placed two half burnt candles in the shape of santa's sacks on my desk. They were purchased (in partial burnt state) from an op shop more than two years ago. They don't make me feel festive, rather fearful of tinea or some other bacertia-type disease.

This is two part arrangement (pictured) - a short fringe of tinsel and fake plant combination - is one of the decorative highlights:

It demonstrates the basic philosophy: more is more and the even most forlorn items should be put on display.

A friend once told me that in their office they had a competition for the best decorations. Second place went to the team that displayed a 'lone baubel'. It was pointed reminder of the commercialisation of Christmas (or something to that effect) and the need to make it simpler, etc. It sounds so civilised, I long for the lone baubel.

In other acts of festive spirit, our team has been distributing toffees to other departments thanking them for their help throughout the year. They are not the nicest of toffees; one colleague remarked that their distribution might actually be a passive aggressive act. I suspect the two (2) individuals that have lost fillings would agree.

Kitty

ode to the angus burger

dear angus burger,

where have you been all my life with your cheesy goodness? i heart you.

kitty.

dear kitty,

not so bad yourself.

angus burger

it's a sign

thanks http://theforwardforum.blogspot.com/

me and my athletic prowess

I am loving my self sick in these puppies:

They're my new Reebok Easy Tones. The instability pods on the soles allow me to use 28% more bum and 11% more calf while walking. I'm taking daily photos to create flip book - this way you'll be able to see my simultaneously slim down and bulk up.

I hope to end up looking like this:

Pre-supposing a good hair day, that is. And obviously I'll be wearing the Easy Tones. Obviously.

Kitty

NB: Thanks www.manfest.com for this inspirational photo.

not kidnapped, house hunting.

We’ve been house hunting! It is both thrilling and thoroughly demoralising at the same time. Example: we could live here. This house is just minutes from a train station and tram stop, restaurants, parks, etc. BUT, next door is a wholesale fishmonger. Not just smelly, also open 24 hours. Parking you say? None to speak of! Other things that increase ‘affordability’ include cemeteries, deranged shrieking neighbours and the words ‘prime for renovation’ (meaning the pets poo-ed indoors and we don't have a roof).

And that's not all that's wrong with the world. My dad tells me that the tea bag people, on realising that their customers are impatient have been putting dye into tea bags. This is to give the illusion of strong tea, but the tea is not strong.The dye also stains your cup. This makes so much sense. I have been living a strong tea drinking lie.

Kitty x

a good read

This is a good article by a less itinerant (?? hmm... maybe I just mean lazy?) writer:
http://www.abc.net.au/news/stories/2010/09/10/3007795.htm?site=thedrum
The JK Rowling speech is sensational.


I am headed to book club tonight. My friend Carmen is organising. I expect book club will not last forever as:

a) I have seen Carmen read three books and I lived with her for like, 4 years. They were: 'how to be a skinny bitch', this awful, depressing book by augustus something called 'running with scissors' and another one about dead people and past life regression therapy. Suffice to say, Carmen has eclectic tastes.

b) Book club with friends is doomed from the beginning. You'll never discuss the book. You'll eat pizza and talk about the weekend. Serious book club invovles meeting with strangers who then become friends, as seen in the hiarious tv series The Book Group.

We are reading the first short story in the book The Dead Fish Museum by Charles D'Ambrosio. I am thankful we aimed for something achievable for the inaugural meeting as I have not technically read the book/chapter yet and will have to do so when I get home. I have also been advised it is not very good (Carmen).

Kitty

tooth-hurty

This is Carney on Wednesday of last week. Notice the face bandage, hospital wristbands (not removed on request) and puffy face... He has had his wisdom teeth out! Bad for him! I got two days off work carers leave. Good for me!

being robbed

I was robbed last night. I went to my public speaking club competition night. I was one of eight in the impromptu comp and I was pretty great, yet failed to make the top three. I expect the 'judges' miscounted their vote tally. Naturally I let this go - just briefly yelling 'rigged' and pointing out over supper the uncanny likeness between the winner and the head judge. Yes, there was definitely nepotism afoot. Must recruit relatives/close friends to join Toastmasters, become experienced and then become a judge (please email if interested)*.

Whenever I am robbed, or some someone enters my bedroom and I remark 'I've been robbed!' to account for the hideous mess, it reminds me of Wobbies World. Wobbies World was (allegedly) an amusement park in Melbourne in the late 80's/ early 90's. I went with my parents and cousin Keegan when I was about 6. Even as a six year old with a low threshold for scary rides - 'not the big merry go round! it's too much!' - I understood that Wobbies World was pretty lame. One ride involved spending a small fortune to sit on a plane, buckle yourself in, watch a video and imagine you were flying. You had to BYO your own imagination, which seemed a bit unfair, particularly given the hefty entry fee. On the flipside, I can simulate this ride anywhere and anytime I want - I can imagine I'm flying right now. Weeeeeeee! I'm flying! We were definitely 'wobbed' at Wobbies World.

Kitty

*Not to underestimate the comedic intelligence of my readers (not that this was comedic or intelligent... not that I have readers...) but please don't flood my inbox.

not so social club

Update: gnocchi, while not disastrous was not good. Who knew eggplant (in napoli sauce) took so long to cook? So chewy, it was practically gum. Nomn nomn, in a bad way.

It's Friday funday. And it really is, because we're all in casual clothes today. This includes one colleague 'Rodney'(not his real name...) who basically wears casual clothes everyday, a habit I find mildly irritating (mainly because Rodney is mildly irritating) but puts another colleague in anxiety-ridden coma. 'Jeans? on a Wednesday?'. 'Black runners? But they’re not real shoes!'.

The fun doesn’t end with exposed gangrenous toes though, today is also social club drinks night. The Planet X social club costs $2 a fortnight to be a member. This is just enough to fund a couple of activities for the dull and portly and not quite enough to make me go to the effort of un-joining. The last event was Christmas in July at a novelty German restaurant (?). I can only conclude from the many photos of staff posing with stuffed animals that it was a great night. Am I too harsh? Should I be more excited about lunchtime tupperware parties?

Egad! This just in: The social club costs $5 a fortnight. Which means I've paid nearly $300 for scraps of lamb, potatoes and salad consumed at two Melbourne Cup spit roasts.


Horrified,
Kitty

the colour orange

I saw the orangest lady ever today. She was literally glowing and confirmed my theory that how well applied fake tan is is inversely proportional to how often or long you've been using it. I think your ability to see if it is looking good or not deteriorates over time. Things you should know: 1) don't use fake tan. 2) don't eat orange vegetables. These also turn you orange. It's happened to me once already.

Other news, equally compelling: I am making spinach and ricotta gnocchi for dinner tonight. Fingers crossed and delish! at the same time.

Kitty

I'm also including:

My five star scone rating system.
It's pretty simple, you get a star for performing well in each of the following:
* size/value for money
* fruit to dough ratio
* moisture
* dates (as in, date score 1, fruit/sultana score 0)
* demeanour of staff.

The final star was added based on an incident at Ashburton Bakers Delight (who are bastards).

inside word

This one went awol - it is tardy, tardy, tardy.

This week's top five: interesting facts from my day spent at Beechworth Correctional Centre, a low/minimum security prison in Victoria. It is where Derryn Hinch and a (famous) John who's surname escapes me did time:

1. Beechworth has the two lowest classifications of prisons - 'C1' and 'C2', the distinction being C1 prisoners are locked up at night, C2 aren't (or maybe the other way around).

2. Prisoners can elect to self cater, meaning they are given a budget and are able to select ingredients and cook their own meals.

3. Prisoners can lock their own bedroom doors and there are no CCTV cameras in the bedrooms.

4. The prisoners work at the factory (on site) making kids cubby houses and dog kennels. Some also work in Beechworth, doing something (I forget what). They get paid minimum wage and can spend their money at the prison canteen (but don't get the balance until they leave).

5. Eight prisoners live together (in seperate bedrooms) and share a kitchen and common area. Everyone has their own tv and there is another tv in the common area. Today Tonight would have a field day with this. Aren't there working families that can't afford tvs?


Anyway, it was fascinating, if a little disconcerting walking around being stared out. While the place was pleasant-ish, ours was very much the 'official tour'... When the head guard referred to some residents as 'toe rags' I suspected it wasn't all scones with jam and cream... Maybe crime doesn't pay (any more than minimum wage, anyway)?


Kitty

the face of procrastination, depicted using words

Things I would rather be doing (some context: I am writing a 4,000 word essay on the world's most boring topic - social inclusion):
1. Sitting on the couch, staring at a wall.
2. Wearing a chaff bag. It would help with all the eating I've been doing. Am I spelling this right? It is putting me in mind of a chastity belt, reason unknown.
3. Pushing back my cuticles.
4. Picking up other people's cuticles and dead skin at a nail salon.
5. Vomiting because of 4.
6. Reading the book Johnathon Norrell and Mr Strange, as lent to me by the Planet X Mayor. It is a terrible book and I should have finished it about three months ago. If you've read it, what's with hiding another novel in the footnotes? How painful.

I take back 4 actually, that repulses me.

Sigh. *sighs*

Best get back to it.

K-Dog (working like a biatch).

next stop, Hopetoun

The universe is telling me to go to Hopetoun, the town I think but it could be the tea rooms in the Block Arcade.

This is how the universe has communicated thus far:
1. Repeated street signage in the suburbs of Box Hill, Mitcham. Northcote and Brunswick
2. I read an article in a magazine about Hopetoun
3. Devon the farmer on Farmer wants a wife comes from a farm in Hopetoun
4. It was featured on old episode of Better Homes and Gardens, good trees apparently.

The evidence is compelling you will agree, I expect to find an amulet of some description when I get there. I will use this to find a secret door, riches and a Wizard (as seen in the few computer games I have played, most circa 1992). All this might be a little while away though, unfortunately Hopetoun is 400kms from Melbourne and it sounds like the gastro pub/restaurant explosion (a potential carrot) has eluded them thus far... Wikipedia, the authority on everything, lists as things in the town: ‘a restaurant called the Bon Bon and an Op Shop’. Without casting aspersions on Bon Bon, putting it in the same bucket as an op shop might not be a glowing endorsement? Note to self: pack lunch.

Kitty

top five: family funday

Groundhog day, again. Wish I was here.

Which is a brilliant segway into today’s top five: family holidays.

1. Europe. I know, tough gig. I was sixteen and among other things, spent a few days with my oldest bro Mark making our way from Denmark to Paris via Amsterdam. It’s only retrospectively I realise what a pain I must have been... Actually, it is possible I realised this at the time, why else would I complain incessantly of the cold while simultaneously refusing to wear warm 'ugly' clothing?

2. Life be in it camp for families with kids with disabilities. No, none of us have a disability, we just didn’t know that was the target demographic. Running family joke: (brother) Liam fit in very well. Zing! Never gets old, here all week.

3. Alice Springs/Uluru. Mum, dad and four kids squished in the back seat towing a caravan from Mebourne to Uluru and back. For the out of towners: this is far. Really far. Memorable moments include the car breaking down (more than once), Dad buying an axe and hacking down the table in said caravan so that it could be used as a bed and eating an enormous amount of custard (again, more than once).

4. Expo ’88. While actual memories of Expo are thin on the ground, there is a stellar photo of me with the most extreme camel toe known to man and a face painted like a butterfly. It has been on the mantelpiece at mum and dads for 22 years now, providing comic relief to visitors who stray too close to the fireplace and/or are pointed in its general direction by my mum who thinks it a great source of mirth. Apparently I 'loved those shorts'.

5. Horse drawn carriage – kicking it pioneer style. Cryptically, this involved four or five days spent pulling a horse drawn carriage thought the hills of somewhere (Victoria). Each night we set up an electric fenced area for the horses and had camp fires, marshmallows and then went to sleep in the carriage. We probably only travelled about two very slow kilometres a day, but we felt like Burke and Wills. Only we survived. They have a statue in town though, so it’s probably one-all.

i am very busy and important

Definition of unneccesary: being cc'd in on the results of someone else's ergonomic desk assessment (and accompanying maintenace request form).

Bigwig me, with the ever expanding head, is acting manager at the moment (shorthand: 'acting up'- a hilarious double entendre, you can imagine). Apparently this means being privy to such items as:

'Donna (alias) has an angled keyboard. Have advised her that if she has hand or wrist issues she should flatten this' and

'provision of a midline document holder is recommended to prevent neck lateral rotation movements'.

Such jobs exist?

Unrelated: Op shop shoes proving a great purchase, fear of catching tinea wholly unfounded.

Kitty

golden walls and new old shoes

Are op shop shoes disgusting? Maybe. But I have a fantabulous new dress and leather jacket purchased on the weekend and no shoes to wear them with. Rather than make people avert their eyes, lest the hideousness of my patent easy steps offend them, I purchased these lovely items from the op shop up the road while on my lunch break. Ironically they are easy steps too! It is a happy and affordable day – just $2 per shoe. In fact, it was nearly less than this as the 'helpful' (read: extremely bossy) attendee had placed my shoes on the 'for sale' shelf while I was looking at my feet in the mirror. She put them on the $3 stand... ouch.

In other news, on Sunday Dad and I went to Melbourne Open House. This is basically where public or commercial (and ideally, interesting) buildings are opened up for the public to have a sticky beak. The concept originated in New York and this is its third year in Melbourne. It was great! We only saw two things on account of spending an hour and a half queueing for the second, but it was worth the wait. We went to the ANZ gothic bank, which is fully sick. The bank part is a proper bank, only amazing x 1000. It's like a cathedral inside. Unfortuantely and rather unimaginately the bank have the following picture of it on their website:

Underwhelmed? Not shown is the full gothic arched roof, giant marble pillars and other fiddly gold bits. This is all on show during banking hours, but we also got to see the upstairs residence, which almost never open. It had a billiard room, a library, a dining room and other rooms named for quite specific activities... It was all very Cluedo but without the candlesticks/murder. Also, the walls were made of gold (leaf, but potato/potato). Our tour guide, very enthusiastic, not very interesting warned us not to touch them. I like to think this is because the gold would come off and we would be rich! rich! but it was actually because of something boring called oxidation (blah blah science-y blah blah). Anyway, worth a visit.

Kitty

the two Tones and a dinner party

Last night Carney and I went to the Wheeler Centre and saw Tony Wilson and Tony Martin (‘The Two Tones’) at a thing promoting Tony Wilson’s new book Making News. It was great – such interesting, funny guys. I’m adding them both to my ‘5 people I’d invite to a dinner party’ list (currently it is a party of two: myself and Stephen Fry*). Possibly this is not such a blessing for them, it will be a bit of a squeeze as my parents will also be dining on account of living at home and unless they (invitees) have the same EXTREME liking for roasted pumpkin they may find the menu dull/pumpkin heavy. (On the flipside, if they do have the same EXTREME liking, it will be a happy, happy occasion for all).

Anyway, in his book Wilson’s protagonist starts an internship at a tabloid newspaper and is told articles must incite on of three reactions: 1) ‘tsk, tsk’, 2) 'poor guy’ and 3) 'that’s weird’. Martin said he was told by a senior journalist that the Murdoch enterprise’s philosophy was even simpler: ‘make em angry or make em stupid’. You only need to look at the Age online for about a minute to know both are frighteningly true... There's probably even a third/fourth category: 'shameless cross promotion/tenuous links to Masterchef'.

I must say, I could listen to Tony Martin talk all day. He uses words in the most satisfying of ways. He reminds me of Bill Bryson**, and boy do I love BB. Tony's got a website called the scivereners fancy, it started off as the place where rejected articles went to die(/live?), but now he writes something for it weekly. I would like to report it is excellent, but this computer is not letting me access it... It is reportedly excellent then.

Kitty

*Along with a million other people. I read Stephen Fry is the most cited person included in these lists. I did wonder how this is measured, but it was probably a statement to illustrate a point, more than a statement of fact the more I think about it.

**I feel like Bill Bryson is put in the same bucket as Bryce Courtenay, both being popular fiction writers. He is so not Bryce Courtenay. I think he’s brilliantly clever, and would also invite him to the pumpkin buffet. I hate Bryce Courtenay, I had to read one his latest books while in Thailand last year and when I got home I threw it in the bin lest it sit on my bookshelf and people judge me. As well they should. Stay tuned on this, I have been spending these past few months selecting books for the bookshelf in my future unaffordable home, so as to create the best possible impression of myself.

Canned goodness

Some really good things come in small, long life packages... Where have you been all my life ham-flavoured baked beans, served with plastic cheese in a toasted sandwich? I heart you. Sorry readers, this recipe goes to the grave.

Unrelated - I forgot to tell you how amazing Simon Coronel was. Well, he was amazing. Carney thinks I have a crush on him, it is lucky he (Carney) did not see me congratulating him (Simon) after the show. The words 'I'm going to write to the Herald Sun to tell them how good you were' were probably a bit over top... I take some solace in not getting him to sign my chest.

I feel compelled to add I did actually write to the Herald Sun...

Kitty

my number two self

Ever googled yourself? I googled myself today, small diversion from more constructive things. And I’m not the number one me! In fact, I don’t exist in the world according to google, unlike one 92 year old with a potty mouth and a myspace page (I believe she is using my name as alias).

I am a tree falling in the woods that no one can hear.

Truth be told, I am a crippled tree, falling in the woods. My hip is gone. Carney came home from the gym and said he could run 4 kilometers in 21 minutes. I thought I could do much better than this and ran 5 kms in 30 minutes. This not only meant I did not win the 'I can run faster than Carney' (secret) title, but I am nearly killed from the effort. If only I had made the effort in a more honourable quest (e.g. I had hurt myself saving small children from a fire), I would be a hero and more obvious on google.

Oh, the irony.

Kitty, the second.

Top Five: Breakfast

It is lucky I do not hope to be a food blogger or stylish fashionista dispensing advice... You'd be unimpressed a) by some of the gruel I serve up and b) my mothers shoes I am now wearing to work daily on account of saving money for a house*. There is also the small matter of an extremely warm but ugly polar fleece jumper - I cannot believe I once pooh-poohed this very functional fabric. What was I thinking (in my attractive but non-wind resistant clothing)?

But I digress. Things were looking up this morning! Carney got out of bed early and was going to make an omlette. For us, I assumed. I lay thinking happy thoughts of breakfast in bed, until a it became clear while the omlette was definately ready, it was not coming my way. 'I'm starving!!' I yelled, 'I'm so very hungry!'. This, to the click click of a knife and fork and the crunch of some very tasty toast. 'I'm withering away... I feel weak...'. I yelled, 'Did you hear that? That was the sound of my bones crunching as I try to raise myself...'.

But nothing.

Which is fine, because I don't actually like omlettes anyway.

This is all a long winded introduction to my top five things to do with breakfast:
1. The paper. Refer to previous top five.
2. Frozen grapes. I am a creature of habit. I happily eat the same thing everyday and my favourite same thing is frozen grapes, consumed as soon as one rolls out of bed.
3. Earl Grey tea. With milk.
4. Muesli and yoghurt with psyllium husks. Without lowering the tone, psyllium husks are amazing on so many levels, chief among these is that they produce teflon poo (sometimes suddenly).
5. Good raison toast. As opposed to bad raison toast, which is very, very, bad. You know who you are Laurent, little cafe in Melbourne CBD where I consumed one post fun run breakfast and was extremely disappointed. Nay, inconsolable.

Kitty x

* These shoes are extremely comfortable. They really are Easy Steps. I feel like my foot is cushioned a small ergonomic cloud of marshmallow/cotton buds.

short and not so sweet...

I saw the most depressing thing in the world today: a case full of old spectacles at Cash Converters. Isn't that the saddest thing ever?

Kitty

by the water cooler

Office awkwardness is both hilarious and, well... awkward. Today we had a scholarship ceremony where Planet X awarded some students money for books, living, etc. It was an extremely smiley, small-talk laden event with jokes such as:

Mayor: ...and here’s your cheque

Student: thanks...

The student to goes to receive the cheque and the Mayor pretends to take the cheque back (i.e. classic ‘fake out’).

Mayor: ...ha ha, no really here you go

Student: mmm... thanks.

Actually, that didn’t happen, but it would have been the highlight, I assure you. I think there was a small gag around the number of crackers (few) relative to the quantity of cheese (a considerable amount), but that one gets rolled out here all the time.

The philosophy if discharged with camera duties in these situations is ‘it is hilarious to take as long as possible (while subjects are posed) to take the photo’. Obviously this is funny in and of itself but today’s festivities were marked by the presence of a small boogie up the Mayor’s nose; you will agree this is both unfortunate for him (it was estimated to be large enough so visible when the shots are printed in the paper) and provides a small amount of hilarity for internal consumption/delight.

Anyway, the gluten free muffins were free flowing and that’s what really matters.

Ciao,

Kitty x

nod to you, number one millionare

This is hilarious! It would probably be even funnier if I knew who this person was!

http://numberonemillionaire.blogspot.com/2010/05/carlos-d-is-dead-to-me.html

Kitty x

hello sunday morning

This concept is yaffled* from elsewhere: a short lived blog by my oldest friends sister. It is my top five days of the week, which I'm taking one step further, pin pointing exact times in said day.

1. Friday, because of Friday 5:01pm, weekend begins. Not that I don't like my job but this marks the beginning of two days of freedom baby, yeah.

2. Sunday. Sunday morning + paper + breakfast = heaven. Sunday is let down slightly by Sunday night which is all about Monday morning (you'll note this is absent from the list).

3. Thursday night. Largely because of proximity to Friday. This makes it a good night to do 'stuff' as you never need as much sleep on a Friday. Thursday is also good because it is generally 'buy my lunch day' which means I get sushi from a little place in Blackburn. I love this sushi, I dream about it and the waiting between ordering and receiving is actually sort of excruciating. It's so exciting and so long... I'm even willing to eat in when a couple of regulars I vaguely know are there and I have to pretend to be interested in all sorts of uninteresting things to avoid eye contact and small talk.

4. Saturday. refer Friday.

5. Wednesday night becaust of cheap steak nights, pretty much my favourite thing ever.



Anyway, today is Sunday and it started in the usual fashion, directly after Saturday, which this week was extremely civilised. My friend Suse and I went to ACMI for a very short while. The Tim Burton exhibition was on but the queue was wayyyy too long for us (school holidays, uugh), so we ducked out heads in the free bit. Look at what we saw:


http://marcuslyall.co.uk/slow-service



It's slow motion footage of people getting food thrown at them. It's utterly compelling viewing - you see their eyes move as the food (off screens) heads towards them. Then their faces cringe and the food makes it way slowly across the screen. It hits the face with a poof! and then splashes widely before revealing a flour or pea covered face. Finally, gravity kicks in and the muck starts to slide down and the person starts to smile and a bubble of custard or meringue starts to form at their nose. There are probably more cultured things to be impressed by, but this was a definate highlight.

Later we had mulled wine. For fans of the elusive winter warmer, you can get it here, here and here.


Kitty x x

* Is this even a word? My dad says it and it means 'stolen'.

sliding doors

This could have been me:

Seriously. Hear me out.... I met Simon Coronel on my first day of uni in 1999. We were doing the same course. Sort of - we were both doing arts/engineering and the uni had organised for groups of people from each course to meet during o-week. I basically didn't see him again until graduation day, when we sat next to each other. He told me he did magic while we were sitting through the calling of about one million names (gradution ceremonies are very boring, send a small child in your stead - you will appear brilliant to the crowd and save yourself about 5 hours).

Anyway, in this article he talks about how, during orientation week, he came across the Uni magician society spruking for members and joined. I too came across the magician society that same week. In fact I showed them a trick and their response was... underwhelming, frankly (perhaps so was the trick). I elected not to join - I went instead with an extreme left wing something, which sent me emails and letters that began 'Dear Comrade...'. I can't help but imagine what might have been...

Simon is performing at the Melbourne Magic Festival at the Northcote Town Hall, it's a bugger the gala is sold out but I'm going to head along to something so watch this space.

Kitty x

glass jars and aunties dumplings

I’ve been outfitting my desk at work. Check these puppies out! Glass jars! They make me look like a healthy environmentalist – all about oats and recycling! All I need now is a bicycle helmet and flat hair to compete the image.

Last night Carney I trekked across town for Auntie’s Dumplings (not our auntie) in Carnegie. Carney had stumbled across this nothing-looking little place on a job he was doing nearby and quickly became its number one fan. We expected basically nobody to be there – just us, aunty and the dumplings. Imagine our surprise when we pulled up to this:

Half of Carnegie was waiting to get into this place! We later found out that one Matt Preston (of Masterchef fame) was entirely to blame! We were eventually able to consume our irritation (after a mere 25 minutes in the cold, cold, cold) in a the form of a plateful of Shanghai buns and dozens of dumplings. So cheap! So tasty! And I don't even like dumplings!

Kitty x

girl power! and a rant.

This is was the front page of the age on Thursday morning, the day after Julia Gillard was sworn in. Two women in the top jobs - girl power Australia, eh? (For those not in the know, I refer to our new PM and the Governor General Quentin Bryce).

This is excellent news (if a little bittersweet, I do feel for K Rudd). But - and here comes the soap box - while it's tempting to say this is big coup for women, we've still a long way to go. For example, did you know that violence against women is the number one cause of death, disability and illness for women 15-44 years in Victoria? For men, it's smoking. Actually, if you want to read some pretty horrifying stuff, look at the Vic Health Community Attitudes survey here. It's full of depressing information like 'more than a third of the community think that rape occurs because men cannot control their need for sex' and '22% of the community think domenstic violence can be excused if the perpetrator feels bad afterwards'. Hopefully, you think this is appalling - how often I assume everyone thinks the same as me (clearly, they do not - insert many John Howard faux pars*). Was that a big jump - from Gillard to violence... suffice to say, this has been on my chest, it is an emerging topic at Planet X.

On a more upbeat note, when Carney came home with the following yesterday, I had a familar feeling... something was definately on sale:

Kitty

*faux pas? fax par? (French for 'gaff')

** I'm not saying you, if you are a man, are a violent man. I'm not saying men don't experience violence. They do. But the numbers tell us that intiminate partner violence has a bigger burden on society and is overwhelmingly perpetrated by men against women they know in private spaces. Men are more likely to experience violence by men they don't know in public places.

another day, another dollar

If anyone is looking for the oldest woman in the world, you’ll find her driving around Blackburn. She just spent the better half of fifteen minutes (!!) standing behind my car (as I waited to back out of a carpark) looking for her keys. There are old people everywhere today, I am sure they are breeding.

In other news, sometimes Planet X completely confirms stereotypes as reality (read: governments are slow moving and beaurocratic). Rather than cite examples in my own work (this would be far too painful), I’ll quote a colleague from Planet XY and assure you this is pretty much par for the course.

Planet XY set up a Christmas party organising committee in January 2009, to organise the Christmas party for December that year.
Approximately 12 people were on the committee from different departments and worksites.
The committee met every month for two hours, until August when they began to meet fortnightly.
In November (after a mere 10 and a half months of meetings), they decided that a Planet XY-wide Christmas party was too much work and that each department would be responsible for its own festivities.

There is no moral to this story taxpayers, sorry.
Best get back to the red tape,
Kitty

Bargain central

This is a great find - it compares prices of books on different online websites and tells you where you can get what you want cheapest. It considers international sites and postage as well.

http://www.booko.com.au/



Good one, eh?

Introducing... my hero

Wearing the world’s tightest pants, they have haunted me all day... Must limit their wearing to standing situtions (or loose the muffin top)... The worst part (aside from the enforced shallow breathing) is I'm struggling to justify the eating of one chocolate covered marshmallow bar. I am quite convinced eating this would alleviate boredom on this Friday afternoon... The clocks seem to have stopped over, you see.


tick... tock...


Other, less chaffing news, is quite difficult to come by I am afraid. I am in semi-study mode. I'm completing a uni subject to go toward my masters (should I elect to do this), and have to write a 1,000 and 4,000 word essay. I think it's done little more than confirm how much I don't want to study right now. BUT work paid for it, so if I do complete it it's one less subject I have to do in the long run. So, to fill the void, here's a new section I'm calling 'My hero'. What I really want is a section called 'idiots I meet and profile', but this is an attempt to promote a more positive view of the world.

Today's hero is Greg Morteson. I've just read his book Three Cups of Tea. He was a mountain climber, climbing K2 when the climb went pear shaped. He ended up in a tiny village in the middle of nowhere, Pakistan and on leaving promised to return and build a school. He is sort of a bit of a dunderhead in some respects but goes on to build many, many schools in Pakistan and Afghanistan before and after September 11. He is promoting education of children, but in particular of girls - which is far more contentious in a Muslim country (I think this is fair to say). An aside - I've heard this elsewhere - if you educate boys in a village the individual boys beneift but they tend to leave the village. If you educate girls, they stay and build a community around the village and everybody benefits. See The Girl Effect. One of the many thrusts Mortenson's philosophy is that education can promote peace and in some of these areas you need to actually give something people to live for, rather than a cause to die for. Anyway, it's a bit slow moving at times, and there are lots of names of things and people and descriptive stuff, but it is a good read nonetheless.


On that note, peace out.

Kitty x

Planet X

I’ve been clogging up the fridge at work – yoghurt mainly, but also some ‘fresh’ (i.e. vacuum sealed) soups that Carney and I bought in bulk at Coles because they were half price ($3!!), making them tre affordable*. Thankfully they last until August otherwise we’d be creamy carrot with corriandar (my personal favourite) and organic pea-ing (less good) for breakfast, lunch and dinner. (We got 30 packets – perhaps I have discussed Carney’s penchant for bulk purchase before? I did not discourage him on this occasion). Anyway, I've been robbed! My best yoghurt went missing this afternoon! I am going to have to start licking things (and broadcasting the licking). A pox on your house yoghurt thief!

Thieves aside (included?), my work is full of some pretty interesting people. I work for a local government - let's call it Planet X. Planet X has probably one of the most diverse workforces you can get - there's everyone from the guys at the tip to finance types, engineers, librarians and childcare workers. Case in point - 'Patrick'. Patrick works in the mail room and has an (mild) intellectual disability. He delivers each departments mail and printer paper a couple of times a week using an extremely ergonomic (read ridiculous) shopping trolley. Patrick is always accompanied by ‘Mr Flibble’ (his real name), a penguin puppet. Mr Flibble could be quite cute had he not such a potty mouth! Mr Flibble and Patrick used to MC the staff Christmas party, but two years ago they made not-so-well-received jokes about the CEO and have been barred from the big stage ever since. This said, Mr Flibble is an excellant seller of raffle tickets - the f$@#ing c-bomb rolled me for a shiney fiver today. hmm... maybe cuter when Mr Flibble says it...

Kitty x

* 'French'** for 'very affordable'

**may not be French.

kitty, arteest

Check this out - the Australia Project:

http://www.australiaproject.com/

It is a website that 'they' have started to capture and promote contemporary representions of national identity. This is fantastic, because national identity is fascinating, fascinating and a subject I have many opinions on.

Anyway, I have submitted piece and it will be in the next upload (and I believe, the traveling exhibition). This is my picture - it is a wall of chewing gum in Camberwell junction that has been growing for years. I think it captures the idea of community and diversity...

Chewing Gum Wall, 3124

This wall of chewing gum has been made by a collection of strangers; age, gender, ethnicity, sexual preference, political persuasion, eye colour, hair colour unknown. It expresses unity and defiance; the silent act of fingerprinting chewing gum onto the wall only to have the Council paint over it again and again. It is a secret war that has played out over years in an alleyway, off a carpark, in a suburb in Melbourne.

My tagline, which makes me smile, is 'artist', used ironically... In the same way national identity is what we say it is, so are individual identities. I'm not an artist but I am if I say I am. I am me because my dog knows me (nod Gertrude Stein). Actually, I think that might mean the opposite, but it's a nice quote.

Anyway, this is my favourite entry.

Kitty x

channelling virginia

Ooh, have had a 'room of ones own' sort of a day - reading, thoughts, constructing critical and historical accounts of women writers*. Actually thoughts and the critical accounts were a bit thin on the ground - it was probably more reading, dog, couch (me, dog and couch depicted) and then degenerated into licorice allsorts and reality tv**.

Anyway, we are having steak and potatoes for dinner. I am excited - the enormous steaks cost = cost price + $60 (for a parking ticket), and are thus made of gold and should be very tasty!

Kitty x x

*Wikipedias summation of Wolf's work (must be right).

** You are probably interested to know I have finally abandoned The Hills (at season 4), after my friend Dan who is very nearly a Doctor in Psych said that watching TV basically induces a mild state of depression. As I continued to watch The Hills I could actually feel this mild state of depression and that life was passing me by. You may be surprised this took four seasons. I'm a late arrival to Project Runaway now. It is excellent and when I grow up I would like to be a fashion designer.

Judge Judy & Spiro the mortgage broker

Carney went to court yesterday to testify as a witness in a road rage case. It wasn't the worst experience, but it was pretty yucky. There were about seven different witnesses - the women who was in the garden when it happened, the other Tradie that stopped, the taxi driver who's teeth were bashed in with a baseball bat... They were each testifying in a something-hearing to decide if the case would go to court because the accused was pleading not guilty.

It was a strange experience - while the incident was awful you couldn't help but feel sorry for the guy that did it (I should say allegedly?). He wasn't really the full quid and had no family there supporting him... I don't think he really knew what was going on. It was sad... But tell that to the taxi driver with the $12,000 dental bill and crumbling plastic veneers, I guess.

Anyway, tonight Spiro the mortgage broker came around to talk to us about home loans. I thought his willingness to do this at 8pm on a Friday night was a little worrying, but he was nice (if a little scared of dogs and a nervous swallower - which I can sympathise with, when I get nervous, I too swallow excessively. It was made worst by the fact he (I think) had eaten pizza for dinner and was a bit burp-alicious). Anyway, it was not quite disheartening, but expectations-adjusting... I think the house 15 kilometers from the city and near a train line might be more a modest apartment, 50 k's out not too far from a bus stop. Definitely worth the visit though, people.

Kitty

the big move...

After a brief hiatus, I'm back online! Rather than re-cap on the few months that was, I'll start from now, with the brief update that Carney and I have moved to my parents place! No more living in the thick of things, culture at our fingertips (read: rolling home from the pub over the road mid-week). We are back at the ranch for six months to save for an unaffordable home. It is very Gen Y of us. Aside from dad’s insistence the dryer is for show and not for using (and the actual move which was hideous, hideous as all moves are) it has been smooth sailing...

On the downside, after culling and storing, we’ve cramed everything we plan to use in the next six months into our bedroom. Some curious items survived, case in point: Extremely large camping chairs. Number of times used prior to move: Zero. Liklihood of using in the next six months: slim to none.

While I'm pleased I can sit outside comfortably if the urge takes me, I'm bemoaning the haste with which I turfed my ugg boots - I think these might be more useful items this Melbourne winter... But - silver linings - I have purchased some dunlop volleys crossed with ugg boots from target, and they are pretty wonderful, warm and wearable outside.

Photos pending, in the meantime check this out:

http://www.thegreatprawnpeeloff.com.au/peeling-venues/victoria

It is an international prawn peeling contest that anyone can enter with finals coming in up all states. $20 for half a kilo of prawns and 2 drinks at a fancy restaurant... Carney and I have missed the Victorian boat but for my interstate readers (ha ha), you may still be in with a chance. The Australian winner ends up in the US to take out the world title!

Kitty

dork-a-licious

Carney and I are headed off on our Honeymoon Mark 2 on Friday. We're trading 40 degree Melbourne and sweltering for -20 Europe and f-f-freezing. While I'd been poo-pooing Carney's 'we need to get ugly gortex/poly-everything hiking shoes' I succumbed over the weekend on learning Denmark had hit negative (!!) 40 degrees cold. Better to be warm and unfashionable than cold (and probably still unfashionable). Plus - there will be wayyyy better leather shoes in Europe!

This is us at one of the million Mountain shops we went to on Sunday. Just to let you know we didn't end up getting matching beanies - we figures polarfleeces and long johns was plenty matching enough. Am trying to get Carney to refer to us as 'Team Kitty' but have had little success so far.

Kitty x

On my soapbox: an unAustralian lament

I'm horrified that Channel 9 are bringing back Hey Hey its Saturday and not even because of the blackface skit in last year's reunion show. Isn't this a dead horse? Flogged for years before it finally (thankfully) rolled over and died. It's appalling, I should write a letter. It makes me feel a bit sick, actually. Not just because of Daryl Summers, but because it completely belies the talent that exists in the country. It's a travesty.

I felt the same sense of disappointment each time John Howard got re-elected. Or when I read the Herald Sun. Or when someone says cork hats, stubbies and sinking tinnies is quintessentially 'Australian'. I just think we're so much brighter and more interesting and modern than this. I not sure anyone outside of America would call themselves a patriot, but there are amazing, great things to celebrate here; Hey Hey is just not one of them.

Kitty x

Food for thought

Brie or camembert, discuss.

For your Thursday night at the pub...

Here's a treat friends, useless trivia!

Until 1965, driving was done on the left-hand side on roads in Sweden. The conversion to right-hand was done on a weekday at 5pm. All traffic stopped as people switched sides. This time and day were chosen to prevent accidents where drivers would have gotten up in the morning and been too sleepy to realize that *this* was the day of the changeover.

Armoured knights raised their visors to identify themselves when they rode past their king. This custom has become the modern military salute.

The term, "It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye" is from Ancient Rome. The only rule during wrestling matches was, "No eye gouging." Everything else was allowed, but the only way to be disqualified was to poke someone's eye out.

It was discovered on a space mission that a frog can throw up. The frog throws up its stomach first, so the stomach is dangling out of its mouth. Then the frog uses its forearms to dig out all of the stomach's contents and then swallows the stomach back down again.

I'm not sure the frog one is true, but speaking of armoured knights, I saw Henry the VIIIs armour at the Tower of London years ago. If you've ever seen it, you know where this is headed.... He had an enormous codpiece, apparantly it was the fashion of the time. A picture (I feel this could be mannequin smut, but it is historical fact):

Kitty x x

Up here for thinking.

Happy new year! An achieveable, belated resolution for moi: blog more, better. So, the next 9 days will be a blogging FRENZY *waves hands in the air in manner of people fleeing burning building*. No holds barred.

On the tenth day, Carney and I head overseas for honeymoon mark 2 (four weeks!!!). For that duration, I can promise nothing, except good eating. In fact, Carney's goal (?) is to put on seven kilos while away. When I suggested 'to eat great food' might be a better resolution, he was undettered. Hello french pastries and tapas! We are headed to Spain, Portugal, Norway and France.

Anyway, things I am thinking this morning:

Bikram yoga is actually not very zen... I spend most of my time disgusted at other people's sweat and feet (so many people with warts and flaking skin, I am glad I wear thongs in the shower). And I'm even a germ a phob, not nearly. I abide the 3 second rule and then some. I'm not doing it (Bikram, the 3 second rule stands) anymore, it is also way too hard. Also, I am married now so I can let myself go.

Carney's brother Mase had a great idea. It is probably not my place to share it with the world, but I will, so secret squirrel friends (and copyright Mase). Basically it yaffles the milkman business model but involves delivery of homebrew beer. This would work sensationally well in my hood for the following reasons: People like boutique beer and it's uber environmental - the beer production has less of an impact, it's locally produced (reduced transport impact) and the bottles are 100% recycled. It could even be delivered on bicycle. Sensational, eh? I am a non-beer drinking so am probably missing a major point, but I think it has many legs.

Finally, you always need a picture so here's a couple of cool photos by a photographer I like, Alex Prager. I thought she might want to sell me a print, but there was about a $12,000 gap between what she was willing to sell for and what I was willing to pay. Bummer, dude.

Kitty x x