Prehistoric Heaters and the Perplexing Phenomenon of Pretty Days

My orange dinosaur is a better heater than your orange dinosaur. 

In fact I would argue that he may very well be the very best half-spotted, starry-eyed dinosaur in the world for cuddling, heating and loving purposes. 

He came to live with me not long ago. Every night he falls asleep covering my entire torso from the comfortable resting place of his head in the crevice of my right shoulder to his tail which falls just between my legs. 

He is the most indescribably brilliant, snugly form of insulation and I drift off to slumber land almost immediately. I also wake up each morning still wrapped in his loving claws, warm and toasty and inevitably attempt to find any plausible reason why I should have to remain curled around him for the rest of the day (read: time). Generally this eventuates quite a substantial list.

We all have days where we wake up, carry out our morning routine of showering, make-up application, hair coiffing and the like for the allotted amount of time (all the while wishing we didn't have to do any of it) and, when it's finally time to step back and (I wish I could say "admire" but this is not always the case..) examine the finished product and the only words to escape are "ugh. I suppose this is as good as it gets.." 

Well that was not the case today! Cringing, I reluctantly untangled myself from my dearest of dinosaurs and ousted myself from bed for the sole reason that I had a uni exam I couldn't miss scheduled for precisely 10am. I groggily poured myself a bowl of my current 4-cereal amalgamation, sloshed in Pura Light Start and a splash of rice milk (my latest cereal fad) and devoured the bowl of sugary, carby-ridden goodness while stalking the un-stalkable on Facebook. Finding nothing interesting had occurred in my online existence and that my morning meal was soon completed I put the bowl in the sink and wandered into the bathroom. I followed the regular "morning spruce-up" steps, went back into my room, got dressed according to the audition I had later on in the day, grabbed my bag and went into the living room for the final morning appearance appraisal. 

I was shocked! 

I look fabulous! 

My outfit worked a treat, my hair had somehow decided to take pity on my exhausted state and look incredible, my jewelry was stunning and somehow my minimally applied makeup had exacted a look of understated beauty. 

I grinned! 

Rather than the customary "ugh" the sound to escape my lips was "wicked!" 

I returned to my room, kissed my dinosaur au revoir, exited my house with a bounce in my step and proceeded about the day. Which, all in all, went fabulously.

Peculiar Pets and Printing Prats

World, meet Arb --> 

Arb is "A Random Bug" (I intend to claim credit for the amusing Three Letter Abbreviation's reiteration in his name however I have only just happened upon this realization) or an "ARBitrary" (apparently this is the English slang for "arbitrary" if you hadn't already grasped that parallel - thanks Amy) bug who winged his way into our new house (and hearts) sometime in the past week and, starved for non-human house guests we named him (Amy wanted to call him "George", I think "Arb" is at least 200% cooler), he is now a member of the family. 

Arb resides at a spot of his selection on the walls, ceiling or cabinet fronts in our house. We have no idea what type of bug he is since there are nearly as many bugs in Sydney as calories in Willy Wonka's factory but I think he is a "damselfly" (yes, a macho, manly, tough one of those..although he may be a girl I guess). 

We have no idea what or how to feed him but hope he hangs around a while. "Where's Arb?" is a game played by the second housemate to awaken as the first will have inevitably already engaged in "Find Arb". 

Any light all you aspiring entomologists out there can shed on the scientific classification of our little pet would be greatly appreciated. All greetings and well wishes will be passed on of course from those who, like us, have no clue what Arb is or where he came from.

The other stand-out happening of an all-in-all quite normal Tuesday was the unwarrantably pretentious and altogether blood-boiling treatment I received by the "Filth" (that's my personal collective noun for "heinously rude men of Lebanese descent") at the printing place around the corner from my uni today. Just the reminiscence of them makes me unfathomably enraged and altogether "chik chik boom"-ish. 

I needed to print a handout carefully constructed to perfectly fit an A4 sheet of paper, double-sided and in vivid colour for a presentation I'll be making tomorrow. The collage and fact sheet are gorgeous and deserved a fine laser print on silk gloss paper, perhaps 170gsm. 

On recommendation from a teacher I entered the Snap Printing store on the corner of Harris St and Broadway in Ultimo and was greeted after approximately 20 minutes (the store is the size of the interior of a Hyundai Getz, I was ignored) with a "yea?" by the brute behind the counter.

I explained that the file I desired to transfer from soft to hard copy was currently on my laptop *gesture to bag* and that it was in a Mac format. I informed that I could output this file into PDF if that were easier but that it was very important that it look excellent.

Rudely shoved (physically) into a corner and told "use that, there" with an uncouth hand gesture to a line of archaic computers faceted into the back wall with old chewing gum I sputtered that I had no idea what "that" was, nor "how to use it" "there". 

Several minutes later a young man with an horrendous body odour and an even more hideous manner slid up next to me, far too close for comfort - olfactory or otherwise. 

"What's up honey?" The..person enquired in a drawled accent akin to the sound a drunk person makes just before they vomit.

I suppressed a cringe (read: full body convulsive shudder of disgust) and explained my predicament to him. 

"Nah, can't. Youshudusephotoghop eh" he spat

"Excuse me?" I replied

"I dunnobout macsnshit. Push print eh, it'llbe hectic *laugh*" 

I truly and fervently wanted to kick it in the non-existent boy bits and run gleefully down the road where I would inevitably be sick in the first rubbish bin which presented itself. Instead I attempted to breathe (not too deep, his smell was still permeating my immediate oxygen supply) and said, "alright, just print this. You screw it up I'm not paying for it."

I assumed the boy (read: thing) would be taken aback by the forward attitude of this small Caucasian girl with bright red hair and understatedly breathtaking jewelry but no such luck. He returned some crack that he would just say it was my document that was "assed" and I chose to ignore him.

Eventually the thing printed (on A3, inevitably twice the price) but it looked beautiful. I was informed by "it" that cutting the four excess sides from the A4 sized picture in the middle would cost me an extra $1 per cut. I laughed openly and in his face, said "no freakin way!" slammed my card down on the counter and said "on savings". I think he took a sick sort of pleasure in replying that I couldn't put $9.80 on a card - the limit was $10. I was awestruck. Completely aghast at the utter incompetence and sheer useless existence of every male in my current vicinity. I pointed at the $.60 blank CD's and muttered "for f*ck's sake..!" He got my gist and swiped the card. A moment later he said "I gotta go it again". 

I'd had about 5 times too much of this so I made him print me out a receipt stating that my card had definitely NOT been charged twice (I would have made him sign in fresh blood that this were the case if it were the middle ages), put my document and CD in an envelope, grabbed my receipt and headed for the door. 

Ballsy as always when I reached the door I opened it slightly, turned around and said, "thanks you f*cking pricks." and walked out promptly, leaving the door open and the icy wind swirling all the papers on the counter. Hopefully my Wicked Witch of the West-esque exit left them squealing around for hours like pigs in slops picking up all their rubbish.

*fumes* *growls* *smoke billows from ears*

"GRRRRRRRRRRRR!!"

I will be going to the print shop up the road next time, and every time, for the rest of time. I hope everyone I know will follow.

Airports and Au Revoirs

I've decided I don't believe in goodbyes. I no longer think they are finite and I certainly don't think they are forever. What's the lyrics.. "sometimes goodbye is a second chance".. Strangely appropriate and I believe, quite wise.

Through my handful of years (ok..not so much a handful as slightly more than two hands and two feet in "child counting") on this funny little mottled planet I have said a great deal of goodbyes. I have said adios to countries, states, houses, plush toys, loved ones and jewelry unfortunately lost in the lining of bags far too large for any one woman to tote on a regular basis. 

On reminiscence of these goodbyes (spurred by a profoundly heart wrenching yet emotionally solidifying and determination-inducing trip to Sydney's Kingsford-Smith International terminal today to bid farewell for an indefinite period of time to the person I have loved most in this world) I find that most of them are actually "au revoir"'s or, colloquially, "until next time"'s. 

Aside from those who have died (who I imagine will come to pertinence of my sentiments when I, too finally move on from this earth) most of the things to whom I have bid a fond (or sometimes, less than fond) adieu have come back into my life at one time or another (see "Seattle Soiree" installments for a recent example) and have either lost their lustre or conversely, gained an unforeseen and truly majestic glow. 

I don't believe that we should fear goodbyes; what are they but a decided step into the unknown? As much as it seems human nature to fear the things we have not yet experienced perhaps if we looked on "goodbye" as "see you soon and I can't wait to hear about all the fun things you do between now and then!" that little 7 lettered piece of the English vernacular wouldn't be so daunting. It may even become synonymous with "beginning" and therefore, "hello".

Forever Friends and Unexpected Acknowledgements

Today was beautiful. It began waking in the arms of my new man with his head comfortably nestled on my right shoulder in the nape of my neck. It was beautifully sunny and when I wound open the shutters in my room I couldn't wait to get outside.

A spot of exploring was in order and I was further convinced of the lovely little place this suburb really is. I'm rather happy indeed and the locals are perpetually amusing. From the drunken bowls games being raucously carried out across from my house to the amusing little snickerdoodle puppies prancing their way around the wharf it's an adorable little corner of the world and is starting to feel very much like home.

Several hours and scone purchases (for tea! honestly! *looks around guiltily*) later a very dear friend of mine whose friendship I worried may be in jeopardy due to recent circumstances came around for a visit, her first in quite some time.

I showed her my new house and we headed up the road to a fantastic corner cafe pertinently labeled for this occasion; "Ciao Thyme". The cleverly named cafe is the epitome of a relaxed gourmet experience and we took our time salivating over which of the scrumptious looking salads and sweets to order. After much deliberation a plate of half smoked trout with pomegranate and crumbled goats feta on spinach and half beet root, roast carrot and rocket with Parmesan accompanied us to two little seats in the far corner viewing window, open to the warm air and the street below. And we talked, tentatively and with slight apprehension at first, removing the formalities of conversation with a friend you haven't seen for a while. Our dessert of the most decadent slice of banana caramel and pecan tart made it's way over and the conversation turned to more ardent matters. Crocodile tears welled up over coffee but never made it to the cups below; we were again friends forever and all was thoughtfully and endearingly understood. When the visit finally came to an end au revoir was fondly bid with a scone for the road and a great big hug.

On my jaunt of several hours later to my favourite local bottle shop in a quest for more Wahoo! I found a truly unexpected but profoundly appreciated experience. I entered the bottle shop and was immediately asked with fervor by a French-sounding gentleman to sample some wines. But of course I would! 

"May I start with the chardonnay?" I asked as I typically enjoy chardonnay less than other varietals and often mark a good winery by it's ability to produce one I enjoy (obviously allowances are made for the winery's region). A surprised look was muted by the man and he answered "of course!" with an appraising air settling in. I actually enjoyed the drop of wine and was intrigued by what I tasted. It was verging on a verdelho in taste, smelled like a sauv blanc but had all the characteristics of a proper chardonnay. I was impressed and I told him so, although I believe I used the word "interesting" (albeit in a positive sense). Somehow this launched the man and I into conversation about my interests in wine and viticulture, his winery and his role and investment as one of the owners of this little boutique. He showed me photos and the brochure and gave me his card. I thanked him for the tastes (I also tried the Cab Merlot and Shiraz Cab - lovely examples of both) and moved on to find my beer.

"Just a minute..!" he said and gestured for me to wait. He returned shortly with a bottle of the shiraz cab and held it towards me. 

"This is a gift" he changed his tone and told me, "it's very rare to meet someone with so much life and vibrancy. There aren't many people with the intelligence and exuberance I have seen in you today and it has been a true pleasure speaking with you. I wish you all the best in whatever path your life takes, you deserve a truly great one."

I was speechless. I muttered a profuse thanks for the bottle and shook his hand with contemplation. I paid for my beer and left the store carrying the unexpected present of affirmation and acknowledgement I'd received at a time when I didn't know how much I needed it. I was moved and the crocodile tears once again pooled just behind my eyelashes. I smiled.

Now here I sit, comfortably curled around my Mac completing plans for a trip I hope to one day narrate in this little online window; it looks fantastic.

I'm amusingly snacking with contemplation on the modern dietary fad dictated oxymoronic existence of low fat (truly!) pate and how with the addition of several seasonings (ie. Murray River Pink Salt and cracked Tasmanian Pepperberry) is quite a delectable little treat! 

Seattle Soiree - Installment 5

INSTALLMENT 5 aka LIGHT ON THE PSYCH, HEAVY ON THE HILARITY

Bonjour,

From my now regular seat against the back wall under the Oscar Wilde painting at Starbucks in the U Village Barnes & Noble bookstore. The smell of freshly ground Seattles Best Coffee permeates the air and makes me truly long to endulge in a good ol "cuppa joe". *sigh* to dream...

Instead I have just ordered my Veinte, cinnamon Tazo chai tea with steamed 1% milk and 4 Splenda sugars. As Tom Hanks said in You've Got Mail - an order at Starbucks is not just a beverage, it is a daily self-affirmation that each of us is capable of making multiple decisions in order to get what we want. 

Ah! They've called my drink... *returns with beverage the size of Centrepoint* Inevitably it is overfilled but they put 2 teabags in it this time, the guy behind the counter must like me. When they only give me 1 it just tastes like slightly cinnamon flavoured milky water.

I'm so American right now :P

Several interesting things have happened recently: 

1. I was watching Cooking in the Northwest the other morning on the oldest television in the history of creation which is now equipped with a set-top box falsifying it's decrepit state with a HD picture and a remote, ahh technology. Anyway I watch learning to make crab stuffed portobello mushrooms and drooling all over the place when what should erupt across my 12" screen as I had just walked through the door on the way to the kitched but *scrolling text* THIS IS A TEST *cccchrewwwwwwchhhh, bbbvvrrrrrrrggggg, cccchhhhreeewwwwww* THIS IS ONLY A TEST OF THE EMERGENCY BROADCAST SYSTEM *bbeeeee-ooooooooo, ccchhhreeeewwwccchhhh, beep beep beep, ccchhhreeeewwwwww* THIS IS A TEST, THIS IS ONLY A TEST etc etc. 

How cool is that?! So there, my American experience is complete. It could only have been better, perhaps if it had been followed by "JUST KIDDING, YOU'RE ALL GOING TO DIE, THIS IS NOT A TEST" Then I would have had to get out the camera and perhaps phone you and say goodbye.

2. I'd forgotten a disconcerting side effect of the Seattle weather and progressive (read: hippy/lumberjack) culture: Women in this area have lost the understanding that body hair is truly and unwaveringly unacceptable. *shudder* And that under-clothing of the chest-assisting variety ought not be optional, particularly in the cold. *double shudder* 

It's sunny out today and I swear, it's like they've all been hibernating throughout the winter and, due to a lack of blankets, decided to grow their own. I nearly threw up. Good luck in Europe..!

3. Vitamin D is fascinating. My mother has a penchant for this particular vitamin and requested when I arrived that I conduct a little experiment - take it in heavy doses for the first week I'm here then try going without it for a few days and see if I notice the difference. I think I will term it "the Sunshine Vitamin". I feel miraculous! It's sunny (albeit chilly) outside today I've been radiating sunshine from my immune system for the past 2 weeks (save the 3 days of the camping trip where I stopped and it was as though grey clouds rolled in and burst open on my head). I highly recommend spiking your morning coffee with about 500mg of the stuff, give it a go - for science sake.

4. Shopping in America is akin to orgasm. I love it. They dote on you, the change rooms are the size of most pacific islands and the clothes are so ridiculously cheap! Not in quality necessarily but simply in price. I think it helps the economy has had it's ass fall out recently but I wandered through my old haunt Northgate Mall yesterday and by the time I'd wandered back out my wallet was only a couple hundred dollars lighter and I had 6 pairs of brand new jeans, 5 new shirts, 1 pair of stunning Hepburn sunnies, new earrings, a black patent clutch and several presents for certain people back home. I need to buy a new suitcase before I leave..in 3 days!

5. I have discovered that one can eat lunch purely from samples provided at food courts (or QFC). You go to the counter, ask to try a, b, c and d then say you have to go think about it. They forget your face in about 5 seconds flat so when you go back again and ask for samples of d, c, b and a they happily hand them over to you. Then the trick is to get the disgruntled Cinnabon employee who, when asked for a sample, takes an entire cinnamon bun, cuts it into 4 chunks, sticks 4 toothpicks in it and hands you the whole plate. GENIUS! (PS. Cinnabon rocks my size 00 world.)

Ok I think this e-mail's gone on about long enough - make sure you read it when you have time and aren't getting surreptitiously interrupted. So I'll wrap it up..

Re: Angels & Demons I wasn't saying the film itself was the most spectacular piece of cinema I have ever come across, not even close but it was the fact that I once again enjoyed experiencing mindless entertainment! I think it was an adventurous enough film (and we all know I would give any desired appendage to be Lara Croft) to pique my inner Indiana Jones afficionado and well done enough to remind me how it felt to watch such films as a child (in my old theatre no less) and the excitement I garnered from them. That was the fun part, not necessarily the film itself. I must say I did catch a few plot inconsistencies and I think it was a bit too much for my mum to grasp but it was enjoyable nonetheless.

Seattle Soiree - Installment 4

INSTALLMENT 4 aka I'VE REMEMBERED SOME SIMPLE THINGS

Bonjour a toi, mon cher,


Greetings from my comfy robe in front of the slowest dial-up internet
connection known to mankind.

I must admit I miss that little city with the greatest harbour in all the world. "But
no matter how far, or how wide I roam.." (again with the bad jokes)

I must also admit that I miss you.

I'm dying to go climbing. Or camping again. I don't think I'll
take another nice day for granted for quite some time.

So where were we at my last e-mail.. 500 grams of fun, 200mL of
exhaustion, a dash of introspection and perspective to taste, I
believe.

I've just returned from a truly profound experience - I loved (yes,
once you're done with this sentence go back and re-read that word..)
going to the movies! After my first exhausted day back from Snooze &
Cruise I spent the morning imitating a moulding vegetable, making
Belgian chocolate covered humungous strawberries (as I've said they're
as big as my hand - inevitably this requires dipping in tempered
chocolate) and watching the retro channel while musing at the "rain
followed by showers" (a weather description found only in Seattle. It
accompanies gems such as "possible sun-breaks" and "drizzle with
afternoon rain") sleeting down on the windows.
Mum returned from work and I kidnapped her and took her to a lovely
little sushi place in Freemont. I ate Goeyduck sushi, it was fishy and
delicious. The agedashi was average so I do concede that Australia
does Japanese better then I've had here.
After dinner I experienced an emotion I thought was dead and gone
*starts humming "Sometimes Goodbye Is a Second Chance"* - I craved
sitting in a movie theatre and getting all wrapped up and spirited
away by a film. We went to my old haunt (and the first place I ever
snuck into a movie or stayed all day ducking quickly from theatre to
theatre and seeing a "triple feature"), the Landmark Metro Picture
Palace. They still have the Big Fish poster up in the rafters, still
serve Italian sodas in the bar on the second level and the place still
smells like decade upon decade of popcorn. I smiled.
They honoured my international student card and we ducked in to see
Tom Hanks and Ron Howard create a new world for 2 hours and 20
minutes; Angels and Demons rocked. I laughed, I cried (!!) and
moreover I actually enjoyed going to the movies. It was like it used
to be, no over-thinking, no analyzing, none of the feelings of a
scorned lover betrayed I've been having lately regarding film. I was
flooded with relief and joy. Funny how sometimes you just have to push
through the pain to get to the pleasure beyond. Yet another unexpected
benefit of this little trip.

The only thing missing was someone's arms wrapped around me. (I'm sure
the bum in the back row would have obliged but I think you get the
sentiment.. ;) )

Now I'm home and rather sleepy, I have a big day getting all the
clothes/bags/etc up on eBay for Dr Lady Maureen (she's so sweet, I'll
tell you the story of how she found out she was on the Queen's Honour
List, it's very cute. Also the story about sailing around the South
Pacific for 8 months. I close my eyes, cross my fingers and hope I get
to follow suit some day) with this odd mannequin I have sitting
conspicuously in the front room. I hired it from a queer little man
who names them all and calls them "his ladies" - slightly creepy.
Ok..more than slightly..

SnC was awesome. It was an unexpected pleasure to have a little chat
with you in the middle of it. You sound very far away and out of
reach. I'm glad Ellis snatched my phone and
dialed you. I'd been thinking perhaps you'd pleasantly forgotten about
me.

The trip would be too long to detail here but the highlights are as follows:
1. I vow to sail when I get back. A lot.
2. I cooked salmon steaks for 40 people. Nigella has nothing on me,
they were coated in lemon, garlic butter and dill, I was a heroine.
3. The next morning I ate an inordinate amount of pancakes drowned in
maple syrup *orgasmic shudder*
4. Drinking champagne out of a rinsed out litre cup from Starbucks on
a yacht in 28 degree sun on an island = bliss.
5. You can pole dance on shrouds
6. It's never to early to start drinking on the water
7. S'mores are a requirement of any camping trip and will be made if
ever we camp together
8. Springtime couples are very cute but also exceedingly annoying if
you are not included in their number. This is particularly apparent
when said pairs have linked up at the end of the night and you are one
of the conspicuously few singles still sitting around the campfire
being eyed like the proverbial golden-brown turkey at Christmas by the
unattached members of the opposite sex. (Incidentally this is the
point where you called me. I was on my 4th
arm-around-the-waist-attempting-to-snuggle-random and completely over
it. Hence why I might have sounded a bit off colour. The
Snuffleuppagus part was real though, it got chilly when the sun went
down.)
9. Watching dawn rise over the water and the deer come out to snack on
the morning grass while it's still dewy is one of life's simple
pleasures.
10. Goldfish crackers are so happy to see you it is conflicting to eat them

I gather a lot of these photos (and some..suggestive videos) are up on
Facebook so if you're still playing the stalker you'll have seen them.
I like the one of us sitting on the boom.

It sounds like fun, hanging out with captains, perhaps they have lit a
burner underneath you similar to the one I've found ignited over the
past few weeks. I implore you (yes, I've been reading Jane Austin,
Shakespeare and Marlowe and my use of the English language is
suffering/burgeoning of late) to remember one talented redhead you
know when venturing on these new pursuits - perhaps you can learn from
Ellis and "do all these cool things" as well. But you have to ask
nicely.

I've attached a single picture for you this time, how many points do I
get for my new freckles? I have Collage2 done but it's 101MB so it
might have to wait until I am no longer on dialup..

Nos mondes sont mieux quand ils sont ensemble, je pense que.

Un monde à part, mais toujours à côté de vous.

Smarts and Sun Breaks

Today was delicious. Not edibly (sorry followers of the Peanut's epicurean prowess) but in one of the ironically typical bouts of great highs and lows prevalent in every good Peanut's life.

The day began in a way I really had no right to have it start but despite it's stolen circumstances it was like a cup of hot tea after a long walk in the cold rain home from a bus which took a wrong turn. 

Late to university but not really caring I mused along to my iPod on the bus and enjoyed the warm sun on my face for the 25 minutes it took the big Mercedes to wind it's way into town.

Successively through a scrumptious sushi experience, lots of impromptu hugs from friends, a new pair of hoop earrings to replace the ones I'd loved so much and lost only days ago, meandering around with new found friends and having a round of applause echo through my lecture room from my class when the teacher announced that although I had been gone for 3 weeks and had taken the entirety of our first semester's exams in 5 hours I had scored higher than 100% and topped the class. I was truly thrilled and beamed like the raging nerd I'm so proud to be.

I found a place to purchase drastically under priced persimmons and a gourmet supermarket who specialised in samples - the girl even came up and offered me one, of her own accord!

So now I go to dinner a geeky, huge silver hoop and stiletto-boot wearing woman to sip spicy tom yum with one of my closest friends who, through circumstances unforeseen, will never be anything but a part of my life.

Oh, and my phone started meowing again, just like that. I smiled, it's about time.