Admittedly, it's been a cold and dry winter. Therefore, for months on end, my feet is in comfy runners or boots. My favourite pair of footwear are these DKNY jelly runners.


Nothing glamorous, just solid, springy and good for running after trams!!
Several nights ago, I picked my beloved up from work. I wore my Birkies. They are my favourite pair of footwear in summer –

Perchance, when I met my beloved, he peered down at my feet. A moment later he looked up at me and grinned;

“When was the last time you painted your toenails, grubby girl?”

*hMPppf!*
(admittedly, it was sometime back in Germany)

And the Saints went marching out...

My post about the St Kilda footy club two weeks ago has reached its death knell. We played our ‘sudden death’ elimination finals last Friday and lost. To Melbourne, who I absolutely detest. Just something about that team that grates... and grates. So there it was - goodbye 2006, hello 2007. Again! The frustration! And then, yesterday, the footy club announced they were sacking the coach.

Is there is flight instead of fight theme going on here? The reason was the ex-present coach was not heading the same direction the Club is going. Hence, fresh blood.

to the gig to check out a Little Bird

I haven't been to a gig in ages. I think the last one was the White Stripes concert at Festival Hall about 8 months ago. Where has time gone to? But last night (a school night!), my beloved and I met up with a friend of his at the Cornel Hotel to watch one of our favourite bands, Little Birdy.

The gig experience is so unique, I can't really describe it. It's not crowd-size big like a concert - more like a mini one with only the very best fans around. I collected the tickets at the door and popped over to the Corner Pub quickly for one drink. Tickets in hand, I was skipping (yes! skipping) back to the pub waving the tickets like a lunatic. The anticipation of standing amongst the crowd, drinking watered down beer (not true, actually, the Stellas were great!) and letting the guitar chords rip through my beating heart makes me slightly woozy and silly.

I love the crowd at the Corner. Everyone is slightly alternative and left-field. No one has the perfect height or the perfect weight (not even the lead singer - she kicks arse!). Everyone's dressed in their own unique/vintage/mum-dad's old clothes/Hunter&Gatherer clothing, sporting funky hairdos, eye makeup and earrings. I felt right at home. By comparison, I always feel kinda normal. I was wearing my favourite t-shirt (from Zara, with rhino studs and fraying collars/sleeves thing happening), my favourite jeans which makes my arse look small (thank u Tsubi) and comfy boots. The Corner is also smoke-free now, which makes me doubly happy! :) It is kind of strange not seeing everything in a haze, though I think that's a small price to pay for my lungs.

Anyway, there we were, 'hanging' around the bar, practising our cool air of indifference and chugging down beer. The support act was another Perth band called One Horse Town (female lead singer as well). Not bad, but needed more polish (and hence still playing the support role!). Little Birdy finally came on at 10.30pm and started with "Excited" from their Big Big Love album. The entire crowd burst out in recognition. Have I mention how much I love going to gigs??? Aarrghhh! Delirious! The next 1.5 hours passed by in bliss, and I was quite sad it had to end (come to think of it, I feel like that everytime something's over). We hung around for a little while longer before stepping out into the busy Swan Street traffic.

freedom

I experienced the first bouts of utter freedom again this afternoon. It's not like I've been kidnapped recently or anything - far from it. I'm talking about the freedom that you feel in your breathing, the tension you hold in your shoulders, the endless lists you make in your head. Being free from all of that. In other words, baggage. I had in my hand my first cup of bought coffee (because I'm turning into a tight-arse) in a long time, just after lunch with a close friend in the city. I now have lunch every Tuesday with this friend of mine. It's a good feeling, knowing that something is constant, rain hail or shine, whether we've had a good day or a shitty one. Anyway, with my cup of coffee in hand, head stuck between my earphones, I swerved my way through Melbourne city foot traffic at 1.15pm. The sun in my eyes, wind behind me, it was lovely. I had change jiggling in my pocket along with my mobile, metcard & a single key to get back into the office. And as I was waiting for the tram, I realised for once in a long time I did not carry a bag, or a scarf, or a document in hand. No, all I had was a cup of coffee & head bopping to Madonna's "Get Together". That is the kind of freedom I'm talking about. To be free of my handbag, which held all my amenties, another set of keys, diary, folder. I was free of that! It felt great, and suddenly my feet picked up, I let out a whoosh of breadth and I was free. And then I wondered how long before I could feel like this again. But for the meantime, I just let go - of the nasty phone calls I've had all morning, all my worries and obligations. I wonder how many people have that kind of freedom anymore? Is it inevitable that we collect more baggage as we get older, or more precisely, as we accumulate more life experiences. Just as our experience enriches us, we also pick them up and hoard them to become a part of us. Just let go, I think. Just let go, and breathe a little easier.

Imitation is the best form of compliment

Writing about wd-50 at this moment might seem somewhat passé. It’s been a year since I’ve eaten there (on a whim and the fact that it was rated as having the best tasting menu in NYC circa 2005) and all the big controversy of fellow Brit-in-Aussieland chef Robin Wicken copying (oh sorry! It’s PC to say ‘inspired by…’) wd-50’s chefs food style. Personally, who cares? A lot of people wank on about stealing intellectual property et cetera, but frankly, it’s food at the end of the day, and I’m glad I don’t have to fly all the way to New York again to have great food. I’m proud of Melbourne’s eating scene, even more proud so that it’s in fact so good, that someone actually cares to complain about it!

I personally have not been to Interlude, but so far, it’s all been positive. I dare say that this entire episode would probably have seen the doors of the restaurant swing more often since! Afterall, no publicity can be bad publicity, right? So I say to Mr Wickens, keep being inspired!

I’ve just come back from a holiday in Germany. It’s recently dawned on me that not many people knew I had gone. I’ve heard the phrase “Oh really? For the World Cup?” so many times, I wish I got a Euro everytime I heard it. The answer succinctly is “No, for a party… but the soccer-watching on telly was great too!”. It’s been a holiday unlike my style, but I will write more about that when I’ve finally got my travel log sorted. These days, all I can do is count till the number of hours when I can go to sleep again. But no such luck, it’s full speed ahead with my beloved and I taking off exactly where we left off. Already so much to do, so much to eat… is a wonder 24 hours is enough.

The natural unravelling of my universe

I was reading a book recently, and the author had taken a quote from Danish philosopher, Søren Kierkegaard. It jumped out at me, and I thought about it for the rest of the night. Doing a quick search the next day on the internet revealed that Kierkegaard was a 19th century philosopher who was recognised as the first existentialist philospher. If anyone remembers, a couple of blogs back, I was telling all those who would listen that that word popped into my head one day. I swear I had never heard of Kierkegaard until a couple of days ago. Is there something unravelling in my universe that I need to know? Why do clues come in drib and drabs?

“Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards”


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/S%C3%B8ren_Kierkegaard

a new old discovery

So my mum’s in town. As usual, she’s taken us by a quiet storm… the calm before. Truth be told, as I get older, I feel the need to be near her again. As how I was when I was between the ages of six to ohh... thirteen? Then the teenage and early adult years were years of denial that I wasn’t anything like her. Ah… all lies, lies, lies!

But I digress.

As I was saying, it’s kind of fun having mum around, even though my beloved and I now spend half the time we would normally spend together. And that’s hard too, but I love them both, but in different ways (obviously!). What mum has (re)taught me is knitting! And now it’s addictive – perhaps it is the fact that once you learn the basic technique, you can basically see the fruition of your work unravel (ha! ha!) before you eyes. Yes, the times of instant gratification, but more importantly being able to touch a finished product with my own hands. Oh, I’m a long way from done, but as I see the ball of red slowly turning into a *reasonable* scarf-like thing, it’s amazing. And yeah… the addictive click-clacking of my 5mm needles.

Did I mention that I’ve had six unsuccessful attempts before finally settling into a fairly comfortable routine? This was mainly due to the fact that I started on a ridiculously funky, hairy wool learning how to 4K-4P (for those uninitiated non-knit-talkers, that’s 4 knit, 4 purl). I finally spat the dummy and started on plain chilli red wool, doing 4K-4P. Started off well enough, but then I thought I could watch telly and count at the same time (no, being an accountant does not help). And about ten rows into my beautiful knitting, I discovered a stitch quietly unraveling itself halfway down. I had missed a stitch!!! Imagine my horror, not to mention the wasted three hours of my life and I wasn’t even five inches through! So I did the only thing that had to be done, I unraveled the damn thing…for the fourth time. Desperate times called for desperate measures and I dumbed down my pattern, performing only the knitting stitches.

There is surely some moral to this story – JUST GIVE UP, I hear some say! But I refuse to, and perhaps it’s my stubbornness that makes me persevere – but most of all, I think it is the bonding that I felt I’ve lost during the last few years with my mum, and I’m discovering that through knitting again. For that, I am thankful. Who knew a pair of needles and two dollar wools was what was needed to do the trick? J

D r u n k I t

I recently turned another year older (bleah!), and my beloved took me to Mr. Mathis’ Taxi Dining Room for a sumptuous dinner to celebrate (yay!). Who said he didn’t have a romantic bone in his body (me!)? Okay, so I take it back, but it was always in jest. Anyway, it’s doesn’t bode well to indulge me too often. With my bovine nature, I tend to get excessive, obsessive and well… fat!

Anyway, it was lovely, he had planned it all… this is my boy who never thinks too much about tomorrows – that by the way, is one of the things I love about him. Spontaneity, which I utterly lack. There only needs to be one in the relationship. I can’t imagine if we both were; we’d be constantly living life as if we had something stuck up our bum!

The biggest surprise of the day was when my beloved pulled out two bottles of 1999 Vintage Cristal from his car boot. He had asked me a year ago what I would like when I graduated from my CA, and I replied “Drink champagne, preferably Cristal!” (back to that bovine nature I mentioned).

Only one of the most beautifully balanced champagne in the world, every drop was elegant and stylish. Bollinger and Moet, eat your heart out! We paired it with only eating seafood all night. There were sushi, garfish, scallops, the works. Truly a night worth remembering! And it wasn’t just the food or the beautiful champagne; it was also about a kept promise.

I can’t wait to get stuck into the next bottle!

Autumn in Melbourne

Crispy air,
Wind caressing hair,
Singing birds,
The sound of shuffling feet amongst gold leaves,
What a glorious morning.

Movida

My beloved and I had one of the best meals in a long time last night. Our usual Thursday fare involves some beer drinking down at Transport after work. Then either of two things happen - we go home and eat leftovers, or we feel adventurous and decide to waste some money. Our favourite haunt is a tapas place called MoVida just off Flinders Lane.

I am just going to jump straight to the food because, afterall, it was the main star of the night.

1. Anchovies, topped with smoked tomato sorbet, served on a crouton with capers

2. Carpaccio of air-cured beef, with potato foam truffle and poached eggs

3. Zucchini flowers stuffed with French goats cheese and thyme, in a saffron batter, served with Tasmanian leatherwood honey drizzle

4. Oven roasted Portabello mushrooms finished with sherry vinegar

5. 'Cornetto' of chicken liver pater, sprinkled with toasted corn finished with reduced Pedro Ximénez sherry.

The beauty of each dish was that they had been well thought. For every saltiness, there was sweetness; every sharpness balanced by a subtle softness. On top of getting the flavours so right, the texture of each dish was also sublime - crunchy, chewy, smooth, melt-in-your-mouth kinda moments. Armed with my favourite eating buddy, it was one of the nicest meal I’ve had in a while and the best $75 bucks spent.

‘existentialism’

The word 'existentialism' popped into my head suddenly on Sunday morning, whilst I was enjoying a sumptuous yum cha with my family to celebrate the first day of Chinese New Year. I've seen and heard of it many times, but I don't know the meaning of it, and I had no idea why it came into my head the way it did. A quick search on Wikipedia revealed the following -

"a philosophical movement that views human existence as having a set of underlying themes and characteristics, such as anxiety, dread, freedom, awareness of death, and consciousness of existing, that are primary. That is, they cannot be reduced to or be explained by a natural-scientific approach or any approach that attempts to detach itself from or rise above these themes."

If there was any evidence that time flies as we get older, get a load of this - a particular friend of mine is born early in January, and therefore he is technically born in the year of Horse (Jan 1979). On the Chinese calender, we are always one year older than our English counterpart, but in his case, he is two years older! It was when he somewhat muttered with some resignation that he was 27 on the English calender, but 29 on Chinese calendar that I took a double take. Now, I never think about reaching the 3- mark, but his remark sorta sent me on a tailspin. Not that I worry about getting old... no, no..... uhmm, not me.

Anyways, enough of my obsession about things I can neither change nor control. Someday, I'm going to learn how to pick my fights properly. My beloved and I went to the White Stripes concert on Saturday (CNY Eve) with some friends. Yes, yes, not the most clever of dates to pick to go to a concert. Unfortunately, the fact that over 1 billion of the population in the world is Chinese don't make that day out of bounds to concerts and other events that coordinators may wish to hold. Festival Hall is still the old, junk of a place that's been hanging around 20 years too long. As my bro-in-law fervently exclaims, the place should have been bulldozed about 20 years ago. My beloved fondly remembers seeing The Cramps in concert. Oooh, now we are revealing age here. Moving on....

... The White Stripes were awesome, a band made up of one husband and his ex-wife (or one wife and her ex-husband, depending how feminist inclined you are), trashing at guitars and a basic drum set. Along with instruments such as the zylophone, triangles, pianos and organs, it was a feast on the musical senses - that is if you like rock & roll, plus alot of head trashing, whiny & at times wailing vocals.

We headed back into the city around midnight to catch the dragon dance at the Russell street carpark, and to watch the mayor of Melbourne light up the firecrackers. It was quite a bizarre night, being in the mix of two cultures. I sometimes catch myself being very thankful for our exposure to multiculturalism. I would like to think that as a result, we are more tolerant of others needs and differences. Unfortunately, we somehow always end up getting completely the opposite kind of people running countries. Another thing I can neither change nor control, but I suppose if we start at the bottom, we'll work our way up eventually.

As everyone inevitably does, we ended the night tucked in a bar on Liverpool St called Double Happiness (very apt for the occasion) and gas-bagged till the wee hours in the morning (at least it was to my 26-year-old body) drinking Coopers Ale long necks. Just the perfect ending to a perfectly fine new year.

~
Bragging rights corner
A client of my firm just got nominated for an Oscar for his short animated film, The Mysterious Geographic Explorations of Jasper Morello. For all you film buffs out there who might be interested (if chance permits).


http://www.jaspermorello.com/gazette/

http://www.melbournepubs.com/v/876/

http://www.theage.com.au/news/gig-previews--reviews/white-stripes/2006/01/29/1138469601764.html

Observations, the little things…

I had a thought the other day. If everyone in the world was a musician, there would be no time for making war. Sure, OD-rates and depression might rise, but hey, overall, the death rate must surely be less.

I watched the movie Kiss Kiss Bang Bang on Friday night. It was hilarious, I love movies that are sarcastic, and not just for the hell of it, but downright clever and makes me think “Doh! Why didn’t I think of that?” (sorry, such a Homer moment). I also love the irony that a cartoon has named a fat lard of a father and husband after a legendary Greek poet. WoNders will never cease…

Spent the weekend just bumming around the house, with all the blinds down because of this ridiculous heat (I am already expressing regret as I write, because when winter comes, I will come to miss these days when I walk around with singlet & shorts). I feel like a trapped mouse, with no inkling of time and what is going around me, although the Australian Tennis Open is just 1 km from my house and I watch it on telly constantly, half paying attention.

Have also started to practice my German (ich, liebe….) – it’s a mouthful, but I do think I will succeed in this. One day I’ll have to tell my French episode attempt. Meanwhile, my beloved is trying to master “I want beer and pizza” in German. Nice!!

Other than that, I bought a new toy over the week, it’s an IPod shuffle! Yes, am totally wanker-personified at the moment, with it hanging around my neck. But it’s made walking to work in the morning so much less boring and tedious. At least I have Ben Lee telling me that “All straight things must bend”. Now that’s my kind of meditation - something that just confuses the fuck out of me.
p/s: quick shout out to Wikipedia, the new definition to meanings.

Ode to the year of the *woof*woof*

Another year, another beginning.

I know it's a bad start to a good start (!), but I have been so slack with my blogging, it is almost beyond repair. Unbeknownst to all of you (but not anymore!), i have always quietly kept a notebook of my day to day activities. In the first year of meeting my beloved, I kept a diary of what we did everyday. Ah, the wonder of young love! And then the note-taking started dwindling and gradually stopped. If only life came in reverse - you get all the crap stuff out of the way, and then you enjoy the wonderfulness of new beginnings. Only it would be end - or something like that. Anyway, I put it down to being too busy living a life to spend time talking about it!!!

So, my 2005 ended on a quietly, unassuming tone. Just how I like it, sometimes I like to believe that about myself. I have been trying for the last couple of weeks (not very hard, obviously) of what has happened in the year that's just passed. And it dawned on me that my biggest break through has been finally finishing my studies, and then meeting my best friend again after 4.15 years (yes, we are specific!) in New York and getting a taste of her world. Which, now looking back, has been awesome and I still get bouts of New York sickness. But the last year has also been the year of most inertness. I switched on the automatic button in my brain, and just went on with my daily life, chilling out. And it has been nice - but while it's been nice, it's also been somewhat unfulfilling in the sense of self-development! It just sets to enhance my laziness, which I have oodles of.

So what is in store for 2006? Catching up with old friends for one. It felt like a blink of an eye, but it's been almost 10 years since I last sat for my O'Levels. It's an amazing achievement in its own right, I think. But I can't wait to see everyone convene in April, and I can't wait to see certain people and ask them the places and people they've seen since then.
Like Johann, getting healthy is another biggie on my agenda. Amazing how easily one forgets to exercise and say 'I'll do it another day'. So this year is going to be one of purposeful effort on my part. I am almost at my thinnest in many years, yet I am also at my weakest. I could sleep for Australia (quoting my sister, constantly used by my beloved) and still feel tired. And some days I look in the mirror and feel the entirety of my 26 years ++!!!! So yes, more healthy eating and more exercising.

Also on the agenda - learning German, play an instrument again, and be a little more adventurous!!!!

I hope everyone had a very good start to their new year themselves, live your dreams. They don't have to be big, they just have to stop being dreams!!!
xx

A MINI-scule affair

My beloved and i recently celebrated a friend's 30+ birthday at the new Greek restaurant MINI. As with all new restaurants go in Melbourne, there have been whispers amongst the pots and pan for a while that this would become the "Greek" contemporary, which seems to be what Melbourne is somewhat lacking of.
Situated a few doors down the infamous Yu-U on Oliver Lane, the first sightings of the restaurant (which is below ground level) are its stained glass windows. Enter the small doorway and we were greeted with the bar sidled along the left wall of the restaurant. The other thing I realised immediately about the place - hard surfaces everywhere, not a great start. You see, my first impressions of a restaurant now always rests with that point. If my dinner companion and I choose to carry on a conversation during dinner, will I hear him/her? More importantly, can I hear myself? I did like the red bunkett seats lined up against the back wall though.
Seated beneath a set of lights that look suspiciously of Drogg/Space design to my untrained eye, we were presented with our menu, comprising a total of two pages. Entree and mains comprised the first page, and dessert on the final page. Entrees which we shared amongst five of us comprised of sardines wrapped in prociutto, a whole calamari that had been stuff with veal & pork mince and then fried and cut into sections, a zucchini pie and a soup of some sort. It was that impressive, I did not remember.
My favourite was my main dish which comprised of lamb loin that looked like it has been aged for ages; it was nice, soft and melty in the mouth! Yum, accompanied with a mashed potato gratin of some sort, it was ultimately piggy for a Monday night. To drink, we had two bottles of the Hugel 2003 Riesling, extremely gluggable, and being priced at $45, it was one of the better choices. I can't even remember what we had for dessert, but it was something like four of the seven available on the menu. Ah yes, no expenses spared when it came to our stomachs!
All in all, it was a fantastic night. Aside from the slightly strange waiter, the not-so-well priced wine list, MINI was an enjoyable affair. Not an experience to repeat in a hurry, certainly, and quoting a friend "They didn't even have the token Saganaki, that's not really Greek food is it?".