Tuesday, March 29, 2011

18:04 to Waterfall

I'm blogging on the train, a train ride that has thus far remained without mishap (spoke too soon, why oh why is this an all stations?!) Yesterday I'm pretty sure I elbowed a bald man directly in his bald spot, had to be tapped three times on the shoulder because I was unknowingly in the way and said sorry no less than 7 times. That is nothing new for me though. I'm an obsessive apologist.

Did you just step on my toe? Don't worry about it! I mean I shouldn't have left my toe lying around where unsuspecting people could accidentally tread on it, so really please accept my apology.

You can also bet I was that wuss in primary school who accidentally hurt my fellow play partner (who was probably Kristy from the Babysitters Club or one of the Samurai Pizza Cats. We played some serious RPGs for 9 year olds) and would be crying far louder and for much longer than the injured party. It's not that I wanted the attention (although looking back it sure sounds like I did), it was more that I felt so terribly guilty and awful about what I'd done. And I still do, about everything.

I still feel sick to my stomach remembering the time my smart alec 16 year old self made snarky comments about a gift from a relative infront of said relative, without realising it until my parents gestures, simultaneously subtle and furious, helped me cotton on to my faux pas. No joke, my stomach turns and I feel the exact shame I did the first time. It's been 10 years and I'm turning red just thinking about it.

Or when we went to a restaurant for my Papa's birthday and in the hullabaloo of saying hello to loved ones my handbag knocked a woman's wine glass off the table, sending it hurtling to the floor. Cue entire restaurant staring and an awkward silence quickly filled with "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Oh god, it's all over your shoes. Please let me buy you another glass. I'm so incredibly sorry. I'll buy you a whole bottle. Oh god, I'm SO sorry". She politely refused and I sulked back to my table (shedding a few embarrased tears) only to interrupt her dinner again to try and force another glass of wine on her. Pretty sure all she wanted was for me to get the hell away from her.

Yeesh the shame of it all. And although saying sorry so often surely seems insincere, I can promise you I mean each and every single one (unless it's one of those sarcastic sor-eeee kind of sorrys).

I think my friends and family are pretty used to the sound of my many apologies but I also know it grates. Oh thinks that's the quickest way to track me down in a crowd - listen out for a chorus of "Sorry! Sorry! I'm so sorry!". And you know what? That just makes me want to say.... Shut up jerk. (Okay I really wanted to say Sorry. And now I feel bad for calling him a jerk. Sorry bub!).


-Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Friday, March 18, 2011

I left my heart in Shibuya

2011 has been a crazy year for this old Earth. Already we've seen it alight, flooded and broken and it's only March. In January I stretched my money as far as I could and emptied all I had left into the Queensland flood appeal. Christchurch soon followed and now Japan - each one worse than what came before and I don't have all that much left to give. This makes me feel like a royal jerk, especially when I think about how much Japan has influenced and sweetened my life. But I'm still determined to find a way to help where I can. And thanks to a handful of incredible people who are equal parts creative and generous, it's actually not too hard to help in your own small way.

Start off by buying the Hello Sandwich Gift Wrapping Zine for $5USD, with all the proceeds going to Japan. The best bit is you're actually doing yourself a huge favour in owning this - the things that Ebony can do with a pair of scissors and a plastic bag will probably change your life, no hyperbole here. (Also it might say it's sold out by if you follow the link on the page it'll still work!)

Secondly swing by Catkin and Teasel and snap up a set of Eloise's Save Japan postcards, with 100% of proceeds going to the Red Cross. They're gorgeously designed and I reckon you'll never want to give them away, but instead keep them all for yourself.
 
And maybe if you're a little more flush with dosh, you could afford this cute print by Paul Vickers, which sums up Japan perfectly for me.
And so I think it's only fair I do my bit too! Buy a teapot from Hey Emmaline in March and I'll donate $10 from each order to the Red Cross specifically for the Japan Earthquake relief.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Lessons in being thrifty - travel edition

They say change is as good as a holiday right? Well I'm banking on that being true and the change being my hair colour, because I can't exactly afford a round the world ticket at the moment. But as I was previously explaining (or was it complaining? eh...tomato tomato... okay, that doesn't work on the internet) I'm learning to be creative with my financial situation... or lack there of.

Step 1 - be eternally grateful your grandparents built a shack near a beach for you 70 years ago (yes, just for me I'm sure) and then thank all your relatives for letting you stay there for free on the best weekend in March. And shriek like a girl every time you run to the outdoor toilet in the dark (it's part of the authentic experience). If you don't have said shack, ring your oldest living relation and demand to know why.
Step 2 - make crepes with your mumma and pretend you're in gay ol' Paris (even though you've never been there and they probs don't have Sunbeam over there. Hey lets not get caught up in details people). Optional is how much crepe mixture you get on the crepe iron... I think the less is more approach works well for me. No crepe iron or just too lazy? Buy a french stick or raid garden for escargot... a good wash and they'll be right.
Step 3 - flick through happy snaps from previous holidays and be grateful you've already had a few nice trips, appreciating that not everyone is quite so lucky. Or alternatively flick through happy snaps from previous holidays and slide into a mild depression at the thought that you're sitting at your computer writing a blog entry instead of maxing out your credit card at Urban Outfitters in the East Village or hurrying across the Shibuya crossing with oh.. you know... a couple of hundred other people. (If you've read my whole "About Me" spiel, you'll know that Japan and the Japanese people have a big chunk of my heart reserved specifically for them... probably equal to the square metres that chocolate and or Youtube videos of animals sneezing current take up combined and times by two (yup I have a heart so big I must talk in square metre). We totally intend(ed) to head back there later this year and I'm hoping that's still a possibility.) 
Cue photo dump...

But c'est la vie. I've done both of those things and more so I'm just going to count myself pretty damn lucky and pinch my pennies (oh so hard) til my time rolls around again. And probably start from Step 1 again... oh man, I'm going to be so sick of crepes by the time I can afford a holiday.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

We're living for the weekend

 
Well that was one heck of a full on weekend - the ol' I need a weekend to recover from my weekend kind of weekend (could I say weekend once more? Yes, weekend.). I had two, count 'em, TWO weddings on one day. It's an incredibly nice predicament to be in but it's also kind of exhausting. We managed one ceremony, two receptions, four to six champagnes (plus or minus a few wines...) and about 35 instax photos. You'll also be happy to know I pulled out all my best Elaine Benes moves and danced til my feet could dance no more.
I also caught the bouquet - although there may have been some controversy surrounding my win and a small child might have been hurt in the process. I'm not even joking - oh how I wish I was joking. But seriously it's always a great day when you get to see someone you love marry someone they love and I got to do it twice in the one day. And even better still if the night is capped off with you and your best friends dancing like the biggest losers to Whitney Houston because we all wanna dance with somebody, right? (yes I went there)

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Hotties eat rotis

Tonight I'm heading out for some SriLankan/Indian/Malaysian/whatever else ends up on my plate at Kammadhenu Newtown. It will probably look a little somethng like this.. (notice the long neck in the background, we're all class). We have a tendency to get a bit excited where Dosai and/or Roti is involved.

If you live in Sydney I'd suggest checking it out yourself provided of course that you like cheap, delicious flat breads, curries, teh tarik and deep fried cauliflower (pretty sure it's the only legal way to eat that vegetable) and most importantly that you aren't too picky about service, or the occasional grifter coming in to ask for money while you eat. If you can look past that then I think you'll enjoy yourself, if you can't look past it maybe stay home and eat condensed milk from the can. What? Don't judge, it's delicious.