Sunday, December 28, 2014

Last Sunday of 2014

I am by no means a Nicole Kidman fan but she's been on my mind a lot lately. I remember reading that she named her daughter Sunday because when she was single and lonely she dreaded Sundays. With her husband and baby in her life she came to look forward to them as her favourite time. 

Since we lost Marcel, I too have dreaded Sundays, for the first time in my life.

When I was single, before I met Mr B, in the days post-breakup from a gross ex, on Sundays I was either out and drunk, or too busy recovering from being out and drunk to worry about loneliness. Nicole's reasoning for the name resonated with Mr B, unlike me he'd felt the same dread of Sundays when he was younger and felt like something was missing. 

Lately, even when I've had a brilliant week, weekend, even Sunday mornings, Sunday nights have been awful. It's the time I should be laying on the lounge with a 14 kilo snoring hot water bottle on me, no matter the temperature. Mr B should be in the kitchen, conjuring something delicious, while Marcel  and I watch some trashy downloads on the laptop, him usually the first to give Mr B a dirty look if he dared make too much noise. I would cop one too if I dared move, because sometimes I would have to readjust when my legs went to sleep. The best times. 

Even now, when I well and truly know better, I just had to retype that last sentence in to past tense. I forget the snoring hot water bottle days are over and remember quickly why I'm dreading my Sundays. 

I had an awesome day today. Early morning walk and coffee with Mr B, a quick swim, breakfast with my mum who is up for a few days, another swim and reading in the sand, seeing St Vincent at the movies, which was brilliant, eating too much popcorn, then home for an early night. Still the sadness has crept in and my thoughts can't leave my boy. 

Having never been one to wish my life away, I just cannot wait for 2014 to be done with. This is the last Sunday of the year and I am willing it to be over. I think of Nicole when I think that there will be better Sundays ahead. 

Friday, December 26, 2014

Merry Christmas

I had every intention of doing nothing in Christmas Day, and by nothing I mean nothing. No running around between parents' houses, no having everyone back at our place for drinks in the afternoon, no buying pointless presents and definitely no receiving presents that I don't want or need. The mass consumerism was making me ill in the lead up, I just didn't want to be a part of it. We agreed no presents, no buying crap for the sake of it, it's less than six weeks until we go away and we're spending more than enough cash dollars on that!

I'd seen my mum in Melbourne last weekend, my dad was going away and Mr B's mum was undecided til the last minute, so she snoozed she losed! I couldn't deal with any drama this year, I just didn't have the strength. 

We didn't end up doing nothing but it was an easy, relaxing day full of friends and a lot of drinks. On Christmas Eve we saw a friend and he insisted on us coming around to his place for lunch. It was a mishmash of random people, their house is like a drop in centre, but aren't they the best days? So grateful for good friends and that we didn't end up sitting around the house being miserable. 

We woke up, tried to sleep in but failed (again), went and got coffee (bless the lovely Greek family that open up one of the beach kiosks on Christmas Day), had a swim and went to lunch. I had my cry in the morning, not helped by opening a beautiful ornament with Marcel's name on it given by a friend, but pulled myself together so we could have a good day. And I'm so glad we did. 

So today we've cruised around, been out for breakfast and are currently roasting the chicken we were going to have yesterday. Sydney turned on the weather this morning, but I'm sitting here in my trackies while the chicken cooks, the temperature had dropped so much. Perfect roast weather, fine by me. 

I hope you had a great day with those dear to you. Merry Christmas for 2014. 

Monday, December 8, 2014

On moving on

I've spent the afternoon sitting on the sand, on one if those rare Sydney summer afternoons when the nor-easter isn't howling and half the city isn't at the beach. The old cliche of the ocean healing has never been more true for me than it has been the last month. Sydney's unpredictable thunderstormy weather has put a stop to that this week, and down has gone my mood.

Today I was back in the water. Workday washed away, tears hidden when they spring, my mind unable to think of anything other than ducking, breathing. 

Well meaning advice has floated past me. I nod, offer a token smile on one side, it's easier to end the conversation this way. I don't know what moving on or time healing means yet. I know it will happen and it can't be far away. Yet I don't want it. I want the memories strong and I torture myself with what ifs. I don't want to get used to it but I don't want the shock when I remember, because I forget. The joy and the good memories creep in every now and then. This comes as a surprise and I hold onto them when they do. 

I have kept my 'work face' on pretty well. I've been surrounded by so much kindness. I've been shielded from dickheads, cried with a senior manager over the years old loss of his dog, been covered for on the times the tears just didn't stop. Without any fanfare, someone who I didn't expect to gave me a key ring with Marcel's picture on it. She wrote me the loveliest note, telling me that when she lost her dad and everyone moved on she was afraid she'd forget him. I can't imagine, but I can. 

Every morning I am still bolt upright at 530. I wonder how long it will take my body clock to realise I don't need to be up. I've gone to morning gym classes, but getting home after Mr C has gone to works to an empty, silent house, is worse than staring at the ceiling in the dark. I can't walk without him, what's the point? I have had a wake up call to start looking after myself properly, stress does not do very nice things to the human body. The physical and the emotional can't fall down at the same time. 

I'm not myself and won't be again. I feel like a different person and my life feels completely not mine. 

I have started booking us a trip next year. Something I should be over the top excited for just feels like something to do to fill my days. For this I feel ungrateful. I have filled every spare minute with so many plans, anything to not have time to dwell, to be always on the move. 

I know all of this will change and will keep on changing. Everything will keep on changing. 

Saturday, November 15, 2014

Rest in peace Marcel

How do you put into words losing the thing that you held dearest in your life? Me, husband, dog. That's who I was. Until I wasn't.

While on holiday in Byron Bay, we lost our beautiful, crazy dog. I wrote baby, went over it with dog, I guess for the people who don't understand that bond. But fuck it. I miss him more than I could have ever imagined. 

We don't know what happened, never will. It was all so quick, the best guess the vet had was snake bite. All I know for sure is that I'll carry the guilt with me forever for not getting him help in time. Guilt and sadness have become such opposite, but constant, emotions for me that the gut-wrenching guilt is almost easier to deal with. 

Marcel was not loyal, not at all obedient, and was rarely happier in our company than a stranger's, but that's why we loved him so much. None of the cliches about man's best friend ring true for him, the same that no dog rearing advice applied to him.

Our suburb seems to be in mourning, which is both comforting and devastating. Not a day has gone by since we got home from holidays that I haven't been in tears on the street. Tears from some unexpected memory sparked, or from consoling someone who stops us and asks why he isn't with us, because he always was, and who breaks down when told the news. 

He was our wombat cow pig koala panda Tasmanian devil bear. What got us out of bed at 5:30 every day, and had us racing each other home to be the one to walk him. We turned down invitations because nothing was as good as being with him.

Life has been, to be honest, shit. Nothing is the same without him and it feels like we're just biding time with nothing to look forward to. Being away when it happened was both a blessing and a curse. We had no idea what to do, but were looked after by the most wonderful people, whose kindness I will never forget. Being on leave, we had plenty of time to sit, dwell, drink and sob until we didn't think we could any more. Then we came home and the grief started brand new and fresh, when we realised exactly what life was like without him. 

The four years he was in our lives were the best, no question. The day we brought him home was like every Christmas I'd ever had, times ten. We were smitten from the first photo at a couple of days old, and he'll have our hearts in his dirty little paws forever. When we first got him, people would point, stare and whisper at this strange little dog with small man syndrome. Over time, Frenchies became a 'thing' and we were asked constantly where we got him from. But never have I seen a Frenchie quite like Marcel. 

This weekend we are babysitting Marcel's friend Pom Pom. It's been both heart breaking and a joy to have him. He's not Marcel, nothing like him. It's just having another dog here, without my terror to harass him, another strange thing. 

Hug your babies, hug them more than they can stand. I know I never missed a chance to hug Marcel, and I'll never have another chance again. 

Thursday, September 11, 2014

To Cara?

If I said things like ‘first world problem,’ this is how I’d describe my current dilemma. Then I’d put it on the ‘bucket list’ I don’t have. Amazeballs.

Anyway… I don’t know what I want for my birthday. I’ve been racking my brain, spending ridiculous amounts of time browsing Matches and NAP. Nothing. Lots of stuff I like, feel ‘meh’ about, lots of stuff I’d be happy to have, but nothing has grabbed me in that MUST HAVE IT way. Apart from a Cara Delevigne Mulberry bag, but 1800 pounds for a MINI camo backpack? Bitch please. $3k for something that is super pretty, but does not exactly suit my lifestyle.
Therein lies another FWP (I can’t even write the full term). Everything I love is not suited to someone working in a corporate role, isn’t aiming to have my ‘street style’ pic taken, isn’t a 19 year old model, and whose idea of a big night is staying up until 11pm watching more than one ep of House of Cards. There are only so many designer bags one needs for a night on the couch with their dog...

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

A day in the Gong

Burgers, op shopping, beach gazing, coffeeing. What could be better on a drizzly Saturday? 

My husband loves burgers, there is no doubt about it. So being the ace wife that I am, we took off south to Wollongong on Saturday on a burger pilgrimage to try His Boy Elroy

Wollongong has changed since I went to uni there. A lot. The demographic back then was, shall we say, undesirable, and you didn't really want to be out after dark. The streets were mostly drunk uni students and meth addicts. We managed to spy a few of those, and I'd have been disappointed if we didn't, but there is so much happening down there these days. Globe Lane looks like it's going to be the place to be. 

Now, the burgers. So much hype about them, in the media and word of mouth, but I'm sad to say I wasn't sold. The patty was really thick and the pickles were pretty tasteless. They're nice, don't get me wrong, but no way are they in the top 11 burgers in Oz. Not a chance. 
Another Gong place we had to try was Diggies. We made a poor attempt at walking off our lunch before we stopped pretending. A gorgeous spot in North Gong, there were lots of tables of excited girls talking really loudly about juice cleanses and going sugar-free, and lots of waitresses who seemed really... distracted. Service was super slow, but we didn't mind because we had nowhere to be, and it was lovely people watching, my favourite activity. Coffee was fantastic, and given how quickly Mr B demolished the brownie and carrot cake, the cakes were too. A fantastic spot for a long, leisurely lunch, sitting there made me really want a glass of wine. 
No mini road trip is complete without an op shop. Surfing books for Mr B and an akubra- style hat for me. Fits my big noggin perfectly. Not bad for under $10 and 10 minutes. 
Creeping in the mirrors...
Thanks for the 'assistants'

Friday, September 5, 2014

Recently 5.9.2014

Just realised this post has been sitting in my drafts for OVER A MONTH. It's October, people. You have my permission to freak out. 

Things have been relatively quiet around these parts. We were basically in hibernation mode with the weather, even Marcel was happy to miss a few walks!
Here's what's been happening:

The search for Sydney's best gyros continues. This one is from Gyradiko in Bexley. I've heard mega raves about this one and was desperate to get there. I didn't rate it unfortunately. No charcoal cooking, kebab rotisserie only. Minus points. Also so disorganised. I had no idea how the pay/ order system worked and it was chaos at the counter. 

The culling continues. My wardrobe has reached the point where I'm noticing big gaps and a definite lack of fill. Because I have a few things I want I won't be able to buy anything, you know how it goes. 
I went to see Courtney Love at the Enmore. I had very, very, very low expectations of my teenage dream goddess legend, but was pleasantly surprised. She still sounds ace. Her guitar skills were.. lacking... there wasn't actually any difference when she stopped playing (which was often). It was worth going just for her comedy, she's seriously hilarious, and really seemed like she wanted to be there. Much more than I can say for others in the game for 20+ years. In love with her more than ever and cannot WAIT for her Sons of Anarchy appearance. 
I went to the newly reopened Annandale for brunch. Two words: don't bother. Coffee and food was very, very average at best. So oily, I felt a bit ill all afternoon. The place looks great so it's a shame I won't be going back. 
And finally, a 'Marcel sleeping in the sun on his Ikea mat' shot. 

Wednesday, September 3, 2014

Hair chronicles- RIP mane

Well I finally did it, I went the big chop. When my hair touched the waistband of my pants, I had achieved my life goal and now have no direction in life. Kidding. Sort of. 
In all seriousness my hair was disgusting. People were always shocked when I said this and seemed to think it looked healthy. Ha. They should have tried unravelling it after a swim. Super single dreadlock come at me. 

It seemed to remain in ok condition for ages because it was dark, it's soooo much easier to grow hair when it's not lightened at all. Keeping it so dark was hard work though, I had constant light regrowth. Attractive. Every now and then I'd whack some coconut oil in it, but that was about it. Being too lazy to heat style it very often probably also helped. 

I can't believe I waited so long to do it, even though I loved playing with my mane I feel a thousand times better. Life is easier. Grand statement yes, but true. The other night I was procrastinating about washing my hair (which I always did at night, it was all too hard in the morning, or it ended up wet all day). I had an epiphany and realised I didn't have to and could wash it before work. AMAZING. My hair also now fits into one of those hair towel things, without getting all tangled. AND no more getting caught in car doors. What's not to love? RIP mane!

Monday, September 1, 2014

Zimmermann sale goodies just in time for spring

One cannot simply drive past the Zimmermann sale, on a rainy Saturday with parking right out the front. And one cannot walk away empty handed, despite not 'needing' anything. 
I couldn't go past this stunning royal blue one piece. Colour. Shocking. But I feel like this colour will be a great injection. 
The paisley print cotton beach pants will be a welcome addition in summer, and hopefully get me out of my beach kaftan/ muumuu/ potato sack rut that I always fall into when the weather warms up and I can't be bothered putting anything else over my cozzies.  
The playsuit is a gift for my friend's daughter. She always gets a present from Zimmermann because their little girls' clothes are to die for, super cheap on sale, and don't look good on Marcel. 
I love that Zimmermann always have sales including goodies for the upciming season, and always great swimwear.  The torrential rain  that we've had over the past few weeks in Sydney,and the fact that it was freezing clearly didn't stop me. 
I've never paid full price for a Zimmermann swimsuit (well, I rarely pay full price for much), and for someone like me who does a lot in my swimmers, I could never justify paying $300. Imagine me smacking onto my paddle board in a $300 bikini... These three pieces totalled $150. Totes bargain. 

Sydney must have agreed with my purchases because boy did she turn on the weather yesterday. After the beach walk being a ghost town (apart from us, still out with Marcel) for the past few weeks, it was as though everyone in Sydney was out and about on Sunday. As much as I can't wait for the warmth, I'll really miss the quiet. 

Saturday, August 23, 2014

I did a jewellery course

I do not have a creative bone in my body. Keep that disclaimer in mind when reading this post. I don't have a 'handy' bone either. Putting together Ikea furniture works really well in my logical, ordered head, but put that allen key in my hand and I lose it. Luckily for me I married someone who could build a car the way I can build a spreadsheet (with his eyes closed) and always knows the exact way to turn a jar to open it. Unlike me, who stands there almost willing the jar to open before cracking it and wanting to throw the jar against the wall. 

I've been wanting to do a creative type course for ages, in a way to try and change this. In the past I have had a tendency for signing myself up to stupid things that I regret- wedding invitation making for example, which was the biggest waste of a painful hungover Saturday ever. I didn't go back for week two. 

Years ago a friend of mine did a silver jewellery course as an extension of a creative-type degree (ie, not boring Commerce like mine) and I was mega jealous. She still wears the ring she made to this day, and it still looks fantastic. I also never thought I'd be able to do anything like it, I just wouldn't have the ability. 

I researched lots of courses, looking for one for absolute beginners, but I still wanted to take away something wearable and good. With genuine time constraint excuses, I put off enrolling for ages, until one day I pulled my finger out. I wasn't exactly signing up for a PHD. The course that looked doable was Silver Jewellery For Beginners through Sydney Community College, and I can't recommend it enough. 
Copper test ring and the beginnings of a silver ring
Copper ring. Deceptively smooth here despite my terrible filing
My textured silver ring, and a warning not to do this course if you value your fingernails!
The finished product. I do get a little bit proud every time I look at it. 
We practiced with copper before they let us loose on actual silver, and it was bloody hard. Apparently it's not uncommon for people not to come back for the second week when they learn it's all done by hand, and it's not just machines that do all the work. 
The teacher was lovely and a jewellery designer in real life. She had great ideas and catered to everyone's skill level, from hopeless me to the guy who used to be a watchmaker (!!!) with way more patience than I have ever had. 

There are definitely parts of the process that I am still useless at, and I'd no doubt win the award for the most saw blades broken in a class. But I don't feel totally hopeless like I did when I first walked through the doors. I dreaded going back the second week, I was that bad, but I can't wait for the final week to finish off another ring. 
I already want to go back and learn more, and have been Pinteresting like mad for project ideas. I'm not sure if it's something I'll be continuing at home- check out just half of the 'basic' tool kit- but I'll definitely be doing another course. I'm pretty happy with my unhandy self! 

Thursday, August 7, 2014

Reasons you shouldn't get a French Bulldog

There's no denying Frenchies are the dogue de jour. Ha! They are on every second ad and they seem to be multiplying every time I step outside. If I had a dollar for every person that has told me they are 'gonna' get a Frenchie since we got Marcel, I'd be buying a lot of French Bulldogs. 

In an ideal world I'd have gotten a rescue doggie, something I've done before and will definitely do again. I've always had a dog until I moved out of home around the time BJ, the world's best Golden Retriever, passed away at age 16. My aunty used to breed Goldens, BJ was the runt of the litter so we got him, and he turned out to be the most amazing dog, in looks and personality. My aunty was probably pretty dirty that we got him!

We decided on a Frenchie after going to New York, seeing them EVERYWHERE and realising how good they were for small spaces. I'd never seen these dogs before, but every one I managed to make stop and listen to my crazy dog lady harping on told me they were the best. And they were right. 
Back in Oz, I did a bit of research and started to get cold feet. They were really rare (back then) and hard to get a hold of. No one wanted to talk to me, it was like some secret society. I now know why. 
One day walking at the beach I saw a woman with two of the best looking- to this day- Frenchies I've ever seen. I THREW my bag and towel at my husband and sprinted over to her. She was probably freaked out and was really stand offish. She ended up being the breeder we got Marcel from, after a 12+ month wait, so she can't have been too scared. She asked us a million questions, made sure we did everything she wanted before we got our hands on her precious puppies, for which I am eternally grateful. Frenchies are not for everyone. They are obviously the cutest things in the world, but you have this dog for 10+ years. Lots of the people that ask us about Marcel are just not cut out to own a Frenchie. So to do my duty to these awesome little dudes, here are some reasons you shouldn't get one. 

You work long hours
Flight attendants, truck drivers, people who travel heaps for work. These are all the people that have told me they're getting a Frenchie. Please don't. These are not dogs that like to be alone (well, apart from naps in the sun they don't want disturbed). Leaving them alone for hours and hours a day is cruel. They want to be with you and they want your attention. 
I'm quite sure Mr B and I put more thought and research into getting a puppy than most people do into having a baby, but that's me and I make no apologies for it. When I was offered a promotion I made sure Mr B was ok with it, because it meant he would be doing most of the doggy care from then on. I was working from home when we got him as a puppy, and I don't think I would have gotten one if I wasn't. 

You think they're going to be a guard dog
I was once stopped by a truck driver (a different one to above!) who told me he wants one because they 'look so tough' and would go well with his staffies who guard his house. No no no no. So many nos. Marcel thinks he's tough, has mega small man syndrome, but to use him as a guard dog? He would assume an intruder was there to play with him and no doubt end up very, very hurt.

You think the puppy stage ends at 12 months
Marcel is extremely clever, but extremely stubborn. A totally different kettle of fish to having a Golden Retriever (or any other dog I know). You give him a command he looks at you out of the corner of his eye and you can see him contemplating it. He's not at all food motivated and is not at all interested in doing anything you want him to do. 
The 'Frenchie 500' is still a daily occurrence for him, at almost 4. He's a total clown, with the most distinct personality, and that's why we love him so much. 

You like to exercise with your dog
Marcel is the exception to the Frenchie laziness rule. He gets two, one hour+ walks a day, and loses his shit if you make him wait for them. There are exactly two times in his nearly four years that he hasn't stuck to this schedule. Once when it was hailing, another when we were super mega hungover after a wedding and he sensed this and let us off. So nice of him. 
Frenchies generally hate exercise and do not do very well in heat. We never walk Marcel in the day in summer, he goes before and after work all year round. Rain, wind and hangovers included. 

You think they're expensive
Your mate knows where to get one for $2000? Awesome. You think $1000 (or whatever amount) is going to make a difference for a dog you'll have for 10+ years? Vet bills add up and $1000 will be small change if you buy a dog from a dodgy breeder. 

You want a 'fad' colour
A very controversial issue in French Bulldog circles. Personally I feel ill when I see blue, tan, red etc Frenchies for sale for inflated prices because they're so 'rare.' You're basically asking for health problems.

You want to breed Frenchies
No doubt plenty of people are thinking they're going to get rich from selling $3000+ puppies. These people are idiots. They also should definitely NOT be breeding dogs when they have no idea what they are doing, especially with a breed that has more than its share of health problems. 
Most Frenchies are born by caesarian. If you don't know why, google it, and don't think about getting one before you do a LOT more research. 

You don't know about the health issues they have
Like any dogs, dodgy breeding results in dodgy dogs. Health problems in any dog are awful, but in Frenchies they can make life really hard. 
Marcel has been relatively issue free, no more vet visits than any other dog, the same with the other puppies that came from his breeder. We do a lot to make sure this is the case though. From the food we feed him to the shampoo we use to the bed he sleeps on. They can be hard work, there is no doubt about it, but totally worth it. You really need to know what you're getting yourself in to. 

If you're ok with all of this, congratulations. Frenchies truly are the best. 

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

Money money money

Yesterday I left my wallet at home. Quelle horror. I realised as I pulled in to the coffee shop. I managed to scrounge together coffee money from coins in my car I didn’t know where there. Thank you, mysterious change gods.

I had a full on day in the office, nothing unusual there, but I’ve also been doing a jewellery course on Tuesday nights (more on that later). Out of the house from 7am til at least 10pm with no wallet? Yikes. Putting on my new positive thinking hat, I figured I could face this as a challenge rather than a ‘woe is me, today is going to be the worst,’ like I might usually do. I had my lunch with me, I work in an office with access to coffee, tea, water, biscuits (including evil, evil Cheds that I had banned myself from eating) and I have a draw full of things like tuna that I usually ignore for the glory of Cheesymite scrolls. And let’s face it, I’m not exactly withering away from starvation. This is not to say I wasn't  going to miss my About Life wrap and salad for dinner, that usually comes in at around $652.35. Sad face.

Having no wallet and not being able to mindlessly pop over to the shops next to my work, which are actually pretty terrible and do not deserve one cent of my hard earned, was liberating. It reminded me of the times when Mr B and I were hardcore saving, in a galaxy not all that long ago. Ways of going about things that had people laughing and talking about us, both to our faces and behind our backs. To say we’re ahead of those people in the ‘game’ (as some people clearly see life as) is an understatement. I’m not gloating and I’m certainly not saying I'm any better than them, but I’d choose the position I’m in over them any day. Laugh at that, dudes. 

Property purchases, pay rises, income creep, life, all that has led to us being very different with money than we used to. Me especially. We are definitely not out there throwing Monday around on dumb, wasteful rubbish, but we can sure reign things in a bit. Perhaps somewhere between our old ways and our current ones. Let's do this. 

Please note I do not condone Jordan Belfort's behaviour, he's a crook who continues to sell snake oil to naive people looking to get rich quick. Bloody great movie though. 

Sunday, July 27, 2014

Recently 27.7.2014

Well praise baby Jesus that EOFY is over. Despite a well-timed trip to Brisbane on the last weekend in June for the Broncos match I just HAD to attend in work's box, it was still mental. I am finally coming up for air, and can manage to make it past 8:30 without passing out on the couch. 
Every year I get into this terrible routine of no exercise, bad eating and general blahness. This week I have one more trip to Brisvegas, then things can return to relative normality work-wise. Just in time for performance reviews. LOLZ!
I'm currently sitting on my couch with Marcel, listening to Splendour in Triple J. I'm half wishing I was there, half glad I'm clean and dry, have toilets I don't have to line up for, and not touching anyone, ha! 

I had planned on a bush walk yesterday, but Mother Nature didn't cooperate. Instead we went to the Dendy to see All This Mayhem, a movie based on the Melbourne skating scene in the 90s and the Pappas brothers. Regardless of your interest in skating its a fantastic movie, I don't think I've seen a Hopscotch film I haven't loved. 
A Mary's burger rounded out our day, cannot stop thinking about it mmmmm. Would include a photo, but it's so freaking dark in there you can barely see the table. 
How was the Sydney weather this weekend? From freezing rain to gorgeous sunshine in just hours, am I in Melbourne?? Rainy coffees, where we just had to sit and wait out the weather. 
The view from the Coledale SLSC car park. We drove down there to the markets for olive oil. Yep, that's my husband. 
Marcel helped his dad put our new bed together, a great supervisor. He loves it because he can run straight under it, it's so high.
A mid week makeup delivery never hurt anyone. I'm obsessed with the Benefit Gimme Brow, but the price is ridiculous for the size. After finding out the US site delivers to Australia for free (for orders over $125, easy done) I was sold. Soz Oz prices, it's not me it's you!

Wednesday, July 2, 2014


I sense a pattern of me returning from holidays and not wanting to post about them. It seems to reinforce the depression. But I'm ready to talk about my week in the sun now, doctor. 

My goal for this holiday was to do as little as possible whilst eating as much Indonesian food as possible. Failed on both accous. The days seemed so long, strange for holidays, and I saw every sunrise of the trip. I spent a lot of time walking around by myself just exploring and walking, sometimes with no idea where I'd end up. There's not much I love more than the smells (oh the smells) and the people of the Balinese streets and I got hours of them every day. 

I also wanted to avoid the Sydneysider trail of restaurants and caf├ęs that everyone goes to, which I did to some degree of success. Some are impossible to avoid, and they are mostly fantastic. We did go to Ku De Ta almost very day, because it was the perfect meeting spot and I'd rather pay for a drink there and sit on their lounges for free, than pay for a vinyl beach lounge. The oldies loved it, and I was more than happy to go with the flow. 
My appetite seemed to disappear, beyond strange for holidays, and I was lucky to eat two meals a day, let alone the second breakfasts, snacks and pre dinner dinner I normally cram into trips. So much gado gado missed opportunity.

We stayed in gorgeous accommodation, a completely private, very Balinese villa with gorgeous furniture, a huge pool, super lush gardens, but enough luxury to make it a relaxing stay. With our group's ages ranging from 5 to 70, everyone loved it. 

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Sick as bro

Not really that sick, but it just couldn't get up to go to work this morning. I packed my laptop yesterday, after counting every down minute of the afternoon. I felt like elephant man, so congested but strangely looking normal. I rang my boss this morning to tell him I wouldn't be available. He was obviously out breakfasting somewhere, and after a miscommunication where he heard 'I've been punched in the face,' instead of 'I feel like I've been punched in the face' I felt strangely better. This is the first sick day I've taken in ages. In my role, you suck it up because the work doesn't go anywhere, and to make that worth coming back to, you'd want to he really sick. 

Anyway, enough whinging. I should be taking advantage of the daylight (boo winter) to take some eBay photos, but is think a day laying horizontal is called for. 

Someone else is wanting some sun
Home for Bassike delivery. Cannot resist a Bassike sale, it seems cheating since they're 'basics'. On top is my $8 pom pom beanie 
Husbands who bring you home lentil pies for lunch when you're sick
Perfecting my toast combo favourite. Really torn-
- avo and cottage cheese
- Vegemite and avo OR
- Vegemite and cottage cheese? Constantly torn
Binge watching OITNB. Adoring this season, after taking a couple of episodes to get into it. Loving the back stories of the inmates. How on point is Aussie Yael Stone's New York/ Italian accent? Phenomenal actress too. 

Friday, June 13, 2014

Queens drizzly birthday

With the craziness of the last few weeks over, I've been more than happy to stay close to home, snuggle with Marcel, eat several burgers and wear my Ugg boots to yoga this long weekend. Not sorry. Spending QT with my two favourites, Mr B and Marcel, both of whom I missed like crazy while I was away, was all I wanted to do for three chilly, drizzly days. Seems I have the knack of leaving Sydney just as she turns on spectacular weather, and returning for some proper winter temperature. Brrrrr.

We tried to go see the Vivid lights yesterday, but tragically a downpour had us stuck in the Royal Albert hotel in Surry, such a shame. Many, many craft tap beers made me forget Vivid rarer quickly. Their cheeseburger was good, with a side of sriracha sauce, but has not entered my official Top 3 Burgers In Sydney list, which is currently:
1. Churburger
2. Mary's (the top 2 are contentious between Mr B and I)
3. Paul's

The Newtown Hotel does a cracking juicy cheeseburger with extra points for the herb fries. The bun isn't my favourite, and it's a lot of meat (which is probably silly to complain about when ordering a burger).

Because I need more cheeseburgers in my life, where is your favourite burger? 

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Checking in

It's been a while. 
I'm in awe of successful, busy bloggers who find time to constantly get their thoughts down. No excuses from me, I just don't dedicate the time. This is my first time trying to write something somewhat lengthy on the ipad that Santa bought me for Christmas, go me, it's like  the future.  
We spent the Easter/ Anzac Day double long weekend break in Melbourne. Despite my fury at the constant stream of Instagram/ facey photos of Sydney's glorious sunshine while we shivered through 'mild'  arctic Victorian weather, we had a great time. Eating, shopping, family time and more eating. We did all casual eating, just wasn't in the mood for anything sit down fancy. Craving comfort food in the cold, I'll keep telling myself that. We loved Jimmy Grants, and all the burgers all the time. Loved Melbs but something needs to be done about that temperature!
In more great weather news, I'm off to Bali on Thursday to escape Sydney winter for a while. Sydney winter that's predicted to hit 26 degree on the weekend...  Bring on the poolside cocktails and nasi goring erry damn day. I got my hair did this week, a fair bit lighter and ashier. Just in time to get destroyed by Bali!
I'll leave you with this phenomenal image. Me as a Chola, all ready for my friends' Mexican themed hens on the weekend. Was quite worried my eyebrows would never be the same, but it was my hair that turned out to be the punish. Three washes and I still had a semi-quiff...


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