Foody-Kitcheny Stuff

May 30, 2006

We just had a bank holiday weekend and it was very relaxing. Everyone always says it, but 3 days really is the ideal weekend length. I went to the gym, twice, did a bit of shopping, read some books, lay around a bit, formatted my computer (not without a few tears though, have to admit) and more. It was very relaxing. Despite the brief, formatting-related tears.

I have been going to the gym for a week now and it’s not boring yet. This is somewhat of a record for me. I’ve also been thinking about food, and how to eat better. I’ve kind of subscribed to so many various diet fads and eating schemes and philospohies that I feel that I really just don’t know what is an appropriate, healthy way to balance food, anymore.



May 25, 2006

Yay for me, because this evening I got off my big fat lard arse and Went To The Gym!!! I am so good. I have fully been thinking, considering, wondering, deciding etc about this move for MONTHS, since before we went home for Christmas in fact. But you know, the time just was never quite right, so the excuses were always too good. Then something clicked last week and I decided that 70 kgs was just ridiculously too much for my little stature and that something would have to change.

I checked out Fitness First for Women on Sunday, but it was smelly and yucky and had no pool. Not that I would probably swim much anyway, especially since all these places only have like 16 m pools or something, but I strongly believe that you need that chlorinated air in the gym to make it smell like a proper gym. FFfW also sucked in their patronising approach to initiating membership. Patronising, as in, do you think I’m an idiot? They charge a £125 joining fee, yes that’s right, £125. But this fee is waived if you sign up on the spot when you pop in to make your enquiry. I don’t sign things on the spot. What I wanted to say was “you have got to be fucking kidding me, what, do you think I’m an imbecile?” but what I actually said was “hmm, well that’s quite ridiculous and it’s not going to happen”. The chick offered to talk to her manager during the week to see if she could waive it, but by that stage I was like, whatever. I know from previous experience that Fitness First sucks anyway, their business plan is greedy and nasty and I have vowed twice never to go back there (you’d think once would be enough, but no).

ANYWAY Living Well on Welford Rd, which is ACTUALLY ON MY WAY HOME from work, rocks. So far, anyway. I checked it out on Monday, it was my Sales Advisor’s second day on the job, so she was pretty keen to sign me up, and gave me lovely discounts because I am special and work at the university. I didn’t even need to prove that (the university affiliation I mean, of course she could tell I am special just by looking at me). Then when I went back in to sign the papers on Tuesday, she gave me a month free. So I am impressed.

I went for the first time today, as I have mentioned. It was good, all the machines were the same ones I was used to from FF in WA. They even have the funny stretching machines, on which I am never quite sure whether my undies are poking out above my pants. I picked the machine with the pillar right behind it, just in case. So yeah I got home half an hour ago and my face is still red, which I hate, but it was really nice to feel those muscles actually doing something and getting tired, which I have hardly felt since waterskiing while we back in Perth over the southern-hemispheric summer. Yay!


May 25, 2006

I didn’t get my ears pierced until I turned 12. It was a long-awaited birthday present. The more I look back, the more I think Mum was not just paranoid, but prudish too. I think she’s changed or something. Anyway, on the long-awaited day, she took me to the local pharmacy where the girls rallied around with the scary gun thing, which in hindsight looked like one of those pneumatic injecty things in Star Trek or Lost. Not that they were actually letting me look at it. One girl drew her little target dots in texta on my lobes, then bang and bang and they were done and my ears felt really really hot and red.

Oh hang on I’m getting ahead of myself – I’ve skipped the trauma of the choosing of the studs. I wanted those ones with the fake birthstone in the middle, with a gold-coloured surround (I didn’t want my actual birthstone though, June is icky) no, I wanted green or blue or something, I don’t remember if I’d even decided. But Mum had decreed that an actual stone would be inappropriate for my tender age, so teeny tiny solid gold-coloured stars it was. They were so small, they were barely of a larger diameter than the post of the earring.

So the long-awaited punching bit was over. Next came the long wait to be able to take them out, so that I could put others in! I really wanted to wear sleepers, because they were cool, they showed that you’d had your ears pierced more than six weeks ago. Every day I carefully applied the magic healing solution (I think it was methylated spirits), and waited. The period of waiting coincided with a Pony Club camp. I remember some girl, identity long forgotten, asking me if I was applying the metho because the holes were infected. I was all like “No, this is what you’re supposed to do?!” Because I was all knowledgeable and shit.

Finally the long, six-week wait was over and I could take my earrings out, and hook in some dangly earrings (Mum had previously forbidden “dangly” earrings) but I had had a taste of glamour by this stage, and there was no stopping me. A year or two later, while in the city with my best friend, I got a second whole punched. Just in my left ear to begin with, to see what Mum would do. Her complaints weren’t too bad, so I evened it up with the right ear a few weeks later.

The novelty has totally worn off now, just short of sixteen years later (16! Am old!). Ear piercings aren’t scary or cool anymore. I don’t always wear earrings, because I don’t see the point, half the time. The other half, I do bother though. Now I just think some piercings are gross. My boyfriend’s sister got her lip pierced with a big ring a while back. Her mother freaked. And fair enough, it was pretty dumb, she’s got like a proper job and stuff, with customers, and it stopped her talking properly, and she’d done it while trashed. She quietly took it out and I think it’s all better now. Anyway there’s my reminiscence for the night. It’s my 28th birthday soon. Maybe to celebrate 16 years of ear-piercedy goodness I’ll buy some earrings worth bothering to wear to work?

Blaming physiology

May 7, 2006

This weekend I did a lot of lying around, and not much actual doing of stuff. It was kind of warm on Saturday morning, so lying around in front of the fan was just perfect. At the time, I thought it was this upturn in the weather that was causing my intense euphoria, but in hindsight I’m pretty sure it was just hormones.

Hormones. Good excuse, them. Crying? Hormones. Euphoric? Hormones. Grumpy? Hormones. Bitchy? Hormones. Bad hair/skin/clothes day? Hormones, hormones, hormones. Some women say that you should never use the Hormones excuse, as it allows men to dismiss any uppity behaviour on your part as being due to hormones, even when you have a legitimate issue, usually with the aforementioned men. I don’t care, it’s such a multi-purpose, and usually accurate explanation. I think the men are just jealous. Nevermind, they’ve got an excuse too. It’s called testicles. I think this was actually in an episode of Coupling. Annoying behaviour? Testicles. Grumpiness? Testicles. Perhaps not quite so multi-purpose, but still good.

My hormones are being very noisy lately, resulting in lots of cooing over pictures of puppies, and other such clucky behaviour. I have been ignoring them. la la la fingers in ears…

So, having calmed down from my hormonal euphoria I proceeded to lie around a bit more, read a bit of Freakonomics, and started reading the Amalah archives. Loooong. But highly entertaining and easy to identify with. What I needed to do, but haven’t done at all, is sort out my/our internet presence. I’ve got half-formed blogs everywhere, fiddy-kajillion photos to upload to Flickr and organise, and an index.html to create. Pity I can’t remember any html. So, reading the html book is on the list too.

Off to see some new Bruce Willis movie tonight with some girls from work. I know nothing about it, but rather than read any reviews I’m going to just let myself be surprised.

Check this out.