Old photos.

I like seeing photos of familiar places a long time ago. It's mind-blowing to contrast the change. I found this page today, all nicely labelled of the time and place. The George St post office building surrounded by scaffolding. St Andrews Cathedral surrounded by nothing. And Pitt St looking like Morpeth. And you can hover over pictures and see the now and then changes.

http://nowandthen.mindsocket.com.au/image/view/2240/st-andrews-cathedral-1870-attributed-to-charles-pickering

Anticipation sequence start.

I think anticipation good. I don't think it precludes enjoying the moment. At Bible study we talked about how its unwise to think that "I'll only be happy when I get married" or "when my braces come off" or "when the kids are all at school". I don't think that IS anticipation though, I think that's just being discontented and comparing your current state to an unknown future state. That's different. To me, anticipation is when knowing that something nice is coming up later makes you happy now. It's drawing enjoyment towards yourself, not resenting the lack of it. The flip side is, knowing something bad is coming up makes me unhappy now. And obviously if the nice thing doesn't happen, it's disappointing. But I try and work it to my advantage. The anticipation of braces failed, but I can look around and find something else to anticipate. I've just booked my winter holiday, for example. It's not like I'm going to be miserable for the next 4 months. Writing flights in my diary makes me happy now, thinking about the happies of July.

Yoghurt.

I'm a bit obsessed with yoghurt at the moment. I read a book about gut health and it advocated natural yoghurt. Also on The Doctors they said that yoghurt and nuts are the 2 best snacks to have. The best 2 yoghurt brands for naturalness and low fat/sugar and probiotics are Jalna and Vaalia, I think.

I like to put a little glass of yoghurt in the freezer for a while and then add a little sliver of cake or a crumbled cookie to it, to make a dessert sundae which isn't so unhealthy. Or when having ice-cream, go half yoghurt. I don't like the taste of natural yoghurt on its own, but I like it with something sweet, it makes everything a little bit like cheesecake, yet healthier.

Glamorous.

I went to Myer on my break to try and buy a cardigan, but it wasn't there. Walking back into the office (above the Chanel shop), I noticed a group of people staring in my direction. Strange. Then I spotted a tall fancy lady striding with a bouncy step and flicky hair down the street towards them. They took photos. Ah! I was in a photoshoot.

A lesson on pain and change

My tummy has been giving me extreme grief of late. It's turned temperamental quite suddenly. I used to eat whatever I liked, including junk, oily/fried and spicy food, and not suffer from too many consequences (except for weight gain). Now my tummy is so sensitive that I will be in a world of pain for hours after if I eat certain foods. I often wake up in the middle of the night because of the pain (hence this 3am post while I wait for the painkillers to kick in).

You'd think after a couple of times, I'd learn to steer clear of certain foods to avoid the crippling pain. But no, I keep on making the same mistakes. My new strategy now, is to eat like a lady: super small portions, eat more frequently, eat very slowly, take small bites and avoid pain-inducing food (e.g. junk, oily/fried, spicy). But it's really hard to do if you've been used to eating like a piggy: eating whatever and whenever you want, eating bigger portions and wolfing down your food.

Some things are easy for me to avoid (e.g. alcohol and coffee), and I'm proud of myself for avoiding chilli (even though I miss it terribly), but others are plain hard.

Instead of berating myself each time I stuff up, I remind myself that change is hard, I'm only human and I am getting better at working out which foods make my tummy happy and which ones make it churn eight hours later. This is practising self-compassion; one of my current life lessons.

The people who really suffer are my colleagues and close friends because I am constantly whinging about the pain and asking them to pray for me.

I am also enlisting their help in another way. For example, on Friday, I will have a yum cha lunch with colleagues. I have asked a particular one to sit next to me, and I will only eat food she puts in my bowl (she's experienced with tummy troubles!). I've also asked them to help me say no, to say no to me, and remind me of the consequences.

I've been very thankful for the support of others during this tummy trouble time.

Eating right: it's not all bad news.

"Australians are not eating enough vegetables, legumes and fruit, fish, seafood, poultry, eggs, nuts and seeds, according to the National Health and Medical Research Council."
The tagline for an article yesterday.

That is a long list of things we aren't eating enough of. It's such a worry! My eggs always expire. I don't know anything about seeds. I'm too lazy to count the days I eat fish, and anyway, fish shopping is a scary snobby world! I don't know the different types. I don't know if I'm buying fresh fish or over-fished fish or imported fish. What am I looking for in the fish eyes, glassy or not glassy? I feel safer eating anonymous tinned tuna on toast, because I've never had to look at its eyes, but that's probably wrong.

Anyway, I thought I'd read the actual guidelines to see if they had helpful details. I haven't yet, but on the website I found a sample meal plan for a woman. One thing struck me:

I'm already doing it!

Why have I been so worried about my diet? I really have, for ages and ages, had a vague sense of not eating as well as I should, not having enough discipline. It was totally unnecessary! I'm just eating normal food like muesli, yoghurt, salad sandwiches and stews, normal food, which is exactly what is recommended*. Where did I get the idea that if it isn't quinoa and salmon with legumes and kale, it's unhealthy? Why did I start thinking that a salad sandwich was failing the food pyramid? When did the bar get set so high, and who by? Or maybe I was just counting up all the bag of chips or the blocks of chocolate and cancelling out the 3 healthy meals I ate every day. So now I think if I'm not eating fried fast food several times a week or coco-pops for breakfast or drinking a bottle of coke a day, I'm winning, so stop worrying and enjoy it.

*At the moment, the only thing I do different to the guideline meal plan is the evening snack: the recommendation is yoghurt and fruit salad, NO WAY. I do yoghurt, but with a chocolate cookie in it. And usually a little bit of chocolate as well. There is no chocolate in that meal plan, an unrealistic oversight.

Why I wore a satay-stained cardigan.

A few months ago I had dinner at Mamuk, which does really nice satay. So I took the leftover sauce home, because I don't like to queue for food very often. It must have leaked into my bag because my cardigan ended up with brown patches in weird places. It didn't wash out, and napisan itself didn't get rid of it completely. But I've had the cardigan for a lot of years. It was $4 from an op shop. It still fits. It's synthetic and old, but in a simple style… a lot of cardigans these days are weird, like they are cropped or something. It's hard to find a decent cardigan, and believe me I am looking. Anyway, the point is, I needed time to let go of the cardigan somehow, so I put it back in the drawer to delay the decision. And yesterday, not able to find one of my newer nicer cardigans in the rush to work, I put it on. There are no mirrors in my house except the face ones. To see an outfit, you have to stand on a chair and jump. I find out what I look like when I walk into the elevator at work. And that's basically why. It was a shame, really, because I was otherwise nicely dressed and well-coordinated in my favourite frock.

Emergency

Before Friday night, I'd never been to the Emergency department of a hospital before. So I'd thought I'd share what I learnt.

Who goes?
I used to think those in life or death situations went: heart attacks, strokes, bullet wounds or crazy injuries. That's why when I had intense stomach pain, I didn't think to go. Until Georgina asked why I didn't. When the pain came again, Bec reminded me to seek medical help sooner rather than later and off I went to the Emergency department at the hospital, for the first time. We went after hours and there were people with different sorts of ailments: poor kid with an earache, a woman who was throwing up, a young man in his catering uniform with his arm in tea towels. So if you're in pain, if it's after-hours or not the kind of thing your GP can deal with, go to the hospital!

So, I'm there. Now what?
When you rock up, you line up to see the triage nurse. She (or he) assesses your condition and then you wait. You'll get called up by another assistant to give your details. Some more waiting. Because of my condition, they did a blood test first. Then more waiting. After three and a half hours, I got to see a doctor, which is a lot sooner than I expected.

Have you been to Emergency before?

Stander-by

Something like the following conversation took place between me and Ben during The Color Run.

Me: Hey, let's ask that stander-by to take a photo for us!
Ben: Ha, "stander-by"!
Me: What? He's not passing by, so he's a stander-by!
Ben: I would have said he was a bystander.
Me: *face palm*

I knew it didn't sound quite right, but I couldn't work it out...

Actually celebrating Valentine's Day!

This year I wanted to spread some happy and participate in the "holiday" in a genuine yet non-commercial way. I really wanted write personalised poems and do nice cards for people at work, like Katy did in What Katy Did. But poetry is hard. I tried the lazy option and tried to google some poetry, but no results. Finally yesterday, plotting with H about how to distribute Lindt balls most effectively, I thought that all we have to do is write "Roses are red, violets are blue" and then 2 short lines, for each person. On a pink heart stapled to a chocolate. For example, mine is

Roses are red
Rhyming is stupid
Orthodontists are cruel
Yay chocolate

H got
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Verisimilitude is cool
And you’re decent enough

S got
Roses are red
Nerds are cool
Waistcoats are awesome
And so are you

M got
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Sugar is sweet
Your backpack’s very big, isn’t it?

And so on. Some were sweet, some were in-jokes, depending on the person. I'm pretty proud of us. It's a fun way to do Valentines as a single person and it's not about being bitter or anti-commercialization. Even if a "holiday" is stupid, an affectionate gesture isn't, and it's nice not to be left out.

White crockery overrated.

Subjects in an experiment were served identical hot chocolates in different coloured cups… all white on the inside but on the outside they were glazed white, or dark cream, or orange or red. And the result, the white cup was voted the least delicious. The orange and beige cups were equally the most delicious. Red in the middle. I had serious doubts about the orange and purple MKR decor last night, so it just goes to show the far-reaching psychological effects of colour. We instinctively like cafes that are full of wood and brown paper and warm natural things rather than a shiny bright decor. I think this revelation should begin the long-awaited decline of the popularity of giant heavy white plates.

And we danced to a melodica.

This is a song I like. Nothing amazing about it, but one night, ages ago, it came on the radio and I danced around my bedroom. Yes, I was quite surprised. It was a nice moment though, so I've liked the song ever since. Anyway, what I didn't know until watching the music video today that there was such an instrument as the melodica. I had to google "little piano that you blow through". Now I want one.

http://www.amazon.com/Hohner-37-Key-Performer-Melodica/dp/B0055DAC1O

Being 29.

I mentally mark literary characters as I overtake them in age and leave them behind. I am rather sad to note that I have overtaken Anne Elliot from Persuasion, my particular favourite, who was 27. Now as I approach 29 I think of her single older sister Elizabeth, who, although a selfish and vain character, has stuck in my head somewhat sympathetically with these words:

It sometimes happens, that a woman is handsomer at twenty-nine than she was ten years before; and, generally speaking, if there has been neither ill health nor anxiety, it is a time of life at which scarcely any charm is lost. It was so with Elizabeth, still the same handsome Miss Elliot that she had begun to be thirteen years ago… 

(Well, when I get my braces off, I'm probably a little ahead of where I was as a teenager. Hurrah for TMJ.)

…Elizabeth did not quite equal her father in personal contentment…  …she had the consciousness of being nine-and-twenty, to give her some regrets and some apprehensions: she was fully satisfied of being still quite as handsome as ever, but she felt her approach to the years of danger, and would have rejoiced to be certain of being properly solicited by baronet-blood within the next twelvemonth or two…

The "years of danger". Slim chances of a young baronet properly soliciting my hand. Uh-oh. And then I tell myself, in the words of Emma, that "it is poverty only which makes celibacy contemptible". I'm perfectly comfortable and well-blessed. "a single woman, of good fortune, is always respectable, and may be as sensible and pleasant as anybody else." What a relief!

Nail undercoat.

Nail polish is a thing right now. It's pretty cheap DIY fun: even if you only use a bottle of colour once it's cheaper than a manicure. I tend to go no more than one week of a colour, by which time it is thoroughly chipped, so take it off and 'rest' my nails for a bit. Using nail polish more frequently, I have noticed some damage to my nails. Mainly, they sometimes split. (I always thought that nails split longways, from the edge to the base, ow. But they don't, they split like plys of toilet paper, you get the top of your nail breaking away along the edge.) Keep them short, and it's not too much of a problem. I used to assume that long nails were more beautiful and short nails were only practical, but lately I've started to prefer the look of short nails. It's a better world, when form follows function.

Something about my skin tone, and my hands are particularly brown or sallow or something, means that nail polish is slightly disappointing on, compared to holding the bottle in my hands. What I have discovered though is white undercoat, like when you paint a wall or a canvass. White nail polish on first as an undercoat. I get a much more true colour over a coat of white than over my dark natural finger colour. Which makes sense. And there is an added benefit, that my nails wont be stained when I use a bright colour. Haven't had staining problems with silver or neutral colours, but orange was a bit gross and left me with fanta nails.

My favourite nail product is a matte topcoat. Turns tacky silver into cool metal. Turns shiny black into ipod black.

"Sadistic apps"

http://www.lifehacker.com.au/2013/01/the-most-sadistic-apps-that-force-you-to-get-stuff-done/

For all sorts of productivity.

In favour of a single-function device.

When my phone is flat, or it breaks, I am unable to send or receive texts and phone calls. I am still, however, able to check the time on my watch, listen to music on my ipod, read a book, set the alarm on my digital radio or ipod, write appointments in my diary.

New use for snails.

According to a facebook ad I saw today:

I reckon we could cut out the middle man and just rub snails on our face. That would probably be friendlier to the snail.

Alternative storage solution

My mushrooms came in a plastic container.

You're supposed to store mushrooms in brown paper bags on the lowest shelf in the fridge. I didn't have said paper bag, so I made an origami paper box and a lid to go with it (lid not pictured).

That's practically the same as a brown paper bag, right?

Form fear.

I kind of like filling out forms, if I get to pronounce my opinions on something. But I find those important government forms with a box for each letter slightly stressful. First, find an approved pen. Then, when I go to fill my name in, I start merrily writing "JESSICA" in the approved capital letters, but then realise I should be writing my family name first, and my other names on the next line. That's the first peril. Then my address. I have a slashy address, ie, 1/2. Do I put a slash in a box? What if it looks like a crooked 1? Then, if I survive that dilemma, I still have many other opportunities to make a mistake and waste precious boxes. This week I was helping a friend with a passport application and I wrote my work phone number wrong, twice. Even after I noticed it was wrong on one line, I wrote it wrong differently in another part of the form. It was the stress.

Mopping by foot.

Mopping the floor after the steam mop broke and all I have are the cleaning pads. Damp the pads, and place on the floor, stand with one foot on each pad and shimmy systematically around the room.

It was very easy, and a lot of grunge came off. However the end result was a bit streaky, if you look in good light. Steam mopping is cleaner. But I'm going to make do.

It occurs to me that this is a new level of mundanity for my blogging, probably.

Kitchen.

Cute, but lies. Damned lies. Image: twitgoo.com

I'm listening to Unstuff your Life. The first 2 chapters are a simple philosophy of why stuff is so clingy. I've done a bit of thinking about this. I'm a fairly tidy person, but it causes me emotional pain sometimes to get rid of things. I feel things like guilt, that I bought something I never wore or used, or sadness, that I am losing something from my childhood… My solution lately has been to cut back on the amount of stuff I bring into the house and collect around my life, because it's easier to resist adopting it than it is to let go of it later. So the author goes into that side of things a little bit, how we relate to stuff. And then there is a bit of visualising, imagining a perfect and efficient life. So that by making more space in your house you are making more space to live your life, rather than just losing all your special stuff. Nothing ground-breaking, this is a holding-your-hand help book for disorganised hoarders.

There are chapters on different areas of the house. First chapter is basically 'Keys, wallet, phone' about putting your housekeys in the same place always. His 2 big rules, which he now applies in every chapter, are: 1. Everything has a home, and 2. Like with like.

Last night I listened to the chapter on the kitchen, which was really good timing because I bought a set of 6 bowls. There was absolutely no room for them in the kitchen. We have approx 2 dozen wine glasses. And 20 odd glass tumblers. Almost that many coffee cups. It's funny how you don't notice that stuff for two and a half years, even though it's really annoying and inefficient and space is precious. But when some friends came over last week, I really did need bowls, not wine glasses. And trying to fit them into the kitchen made me actually SEE what we had. So I emptied out the cupboards (this is the worst, most terrifying thing to do), filled a box with unwanted glassware to donate (with my flatmate's permission), put back an adequate selection of glasses, swapped saucepans and plastic stuff around, and managed to fit a food processor and a fondue set in as well as the 6 new bowls. Really, if I was going to completely obey the book, I would be donating the fondue set, but small steps. FYI, I have an awesome fondue set, you are all welcome to borrow it. Also, help yourself any of the glassware.

I'm so productive with this new TV diet. Speaking of which, Kevin McCloud was on TV later last night talking about how all bench-tops look like vomit. Now I can't see anything else, and I haven't even seen that much vomit in real life.

*edit: Em told me how to spell fondue.

Price per wear.

I bought a dress after my no-clothes-shopping-for-6-months challenge ended, I am keeping a tally of how many days I wear it. So I'll have an accurate price per wear. So far, 3 days. $23.33 per wear.

Next Eat Street.

Friday 1st Feb. 6.30pm. Meet in Dixon St outside Silk Road Uighur restaurant (possibly No 2 Dixon St). We choose the next restaurant.

Hoard

If you know me, you know I'm anti-clutter and anti-hoarding. I fear my collection of little pouches are bordering on hoarding.

I really like them because they are really good for organising a handbag and other things. Even so, I'm pretty sure I don't need this many.

Braces. It's been a long time.

A very exciting piece of paper... final appointments!

I now have appointments to get my braces off! Hurrah! Rejoicing is foretold, and many apples. One month to enjoy this epic chapter of my life. One last braces post on this blog, originally dedicated to the ranting of two friends with braces.

After a while, you really forget about them. You eat what the heck you like, with a few exceptions, like really chewy lollies. You don't worry about them in photos, I found that if I was self conscious and tried to smile discreetly I looked awkward and the braces were more obvious than if I did an open toothy grin.

But every so often I get frustrated, usually when they aren't coming off in the near future and I've made up some arbitrary deadline like my birthday. When I think about 3 long years of braces. The braces themselves don't bother me much. Like lots of things, really. Being single for example, 29 years of it is frustrating to think about, it feels unfair, but it doesn't annoy me from day to day.

I have super bones, apparently, really resistant to moving teeth around. Rare bone metabolism. The gap that took almost 2 years to close, bounced halfway back open in about 2 months. I hope I'll reap some sort of reward in my old age and never break a hip.

Finally a lot of people in my life at the moment haven't known me before braces. My church, and half the office. I wonder if they notice my braces as much, and how quickly they'll notice them gone, and if I'll look weird, like when someone shaves of a beard.

I am SOOOOOOOOOOOO happy whenever I think about it. It won't even make much difference to my day to day life, it's just awesome to close the chapter.

Another self-service checkout rant.

I have been VERY ambivalent about self service checkouts. I have ranted about how much slower they are when you are waiting for other people to use them and move on, and I have complained about how annoying it is to use a backpack instead of a plastic bag, and I have done a comparison race between an express lane and a self service lane in the rush hour of the city Coles, and I am getting very cross about a trend to close more checkouts (especially express lanes) and put in more self-service so that I don't even have the option to get a real checkout. I used to notice some of the regular faces at Coles Randwick, and now they are gone.

Well, go with the flow I figured. Until something happened, which has turned me back against self service.

I got cash out with my groceries, and left it in the machine. I have never left an ATM without my cash, it only happened because at the self-service I was grabbing my food and docket and it was too much to multi-task with the vague holiday brain I had last week and remember money as well. You don't get distracted at an ATM, because you are only there for money, and you get the money. But when you are there for food, you can easily forget the money. On the other hand, when you use a checkout chick for food and money, they put the money into your hand.

That was an expensive lesson, which I had to share with all of you to get better value out of.

No can opener?

So the drama today was that I had a tin of tuna with no ring pull, and the office has no can-opener. I had a salami sandwich instead. But I was surprised to learn that there is more than one way to open a can. More than 2 ways. All my life I had just assumed that the can and the can-opener were made for each other and there was no other way around it. Thankyou, friends.

Vanity

I really love the idea of having a vanity (or dressing table); an area in the bedroom where I can sit down and do my makeup in the morning. Currently, my makeup sits on my study table and I run back and forth from my  mirror (attached to my bedroom door) to my study table as I do my face.

I love the idea of a vanity because it means an opportunity to indulge in my love of vintage furniture. My friend from the States has the most beautiful retro vanity and I love it! It also adds a bit of glamour to your daily routine.

I like the look of these, but they don't quite compare to my aforementioned friend's vanity:

Image source: http://everythingfab.tumblr.com/post/170880804

 Image source: http://thatvintageshop.com.au

Image source: http://www.pbteen.com/products/hampton-vanity-tower-and-super-set/

I have a large bedroom, which could definitely fit a vanity, but I'm hesitant to buy one because I'm a renter. Such is the life of the renter: you never know if your next bedroom will have a built-in wardrobe or what size the room will be. If I weren't in the midst of getting my professional qualification, I'd probably get rid of my study table and replace it with a vanity.

One option would be to get a small table and attach a lovely vintage mirror that I already have, to the wall above the table - a modest, makeshift vanity that would suit the unpredictability of renting.

But there are relatively smaller vanities available too:

Image source: http://www.ikea.com/au/en/catalog/products/30158273/

I shall keep my eyes out at second-hand furniture stores and on Gumtree.

When it breaks.

I hate it when something breaks and I have to replace it. I desperately want to fix everything, but it's not always worth it, but I hate throwing out a whole thing just because one tiny part of it is broken. I had to chuck my steam mop last year when a little hose inside it ripped so it leaked (cheap mop), and now my bathroom scales have rusted where the battery connects. I just don't have that skill set, I don't know if any shops sell tiny hose parts or battery connecting bits, seeing as how they all come made from China.

It's not like these are expensive things to buy, it's just the principle of waste and annoyance. They aren't fun things to upgrade and you don't get more exciting features. You just have to mop the floor eventually. I liked the old mop, I didn't want it to break, but I was unlucky, I didn't get $35 worth of mopping before it died. Now I resent throwing good money after bad just to do housework.

Things I like about Japan

• The train seats are heated, so your backside is nice and toasty in winter, if you can get a seat on the train.
• People queue up to get on the train, but they step aside and let passengers off first before getting on themselves. AMAZING! This could never happen in Sydney.
• People generally respect the rule of not speaking on your mobile phone on the train.
• I like seeing Indians and Middle-Eastern people speak Japanese. Turns my brain upside-down.
• I like receiving little freebies or gifts with my purchases. Doesn't happen all the time, but I like it when it does!
• I like Japanese drugstore cosmetics and skin care products. So accessible, affordable and such good quality.
• Transport is clean, efficient and on time.
• They have an excellent transport card system: put money in the card, use it at the ticket gates and at the shops.
• They have awesome convenience stores everywhere. I like them much better than the Sydney ones.
• Japan embraces cute. Hence, lots of cute mascots around. You will see men with cute soft toys dangling off their bag (okay, I only saw one, but you would NEVER see that in Sydney!).

 Other thoughts about Japan:

• It's interesting being in a monocultural society. It's so much easier to pick out the foreigner. It's so different to being in a multicultural society, where you're used to everyone being different.
• There's a lot of Chinese tourists in Japan. Saw what I thought were Japanese women in kimonos in Kyoto - WRONG. Just Chinese tourists dressing up. Don't be fooled!
• I really love the culture of cute in Japan, but it's not something I can bring back to Sydney. By cute, I mean Sanrio characters printed on everything, the fashion, the makeup, everything!) I can't do cute during business hours - that's not the image I want to convey at work. And I can't do cute in personal hours - just doesn't work in a Sydney context. I'm too old for cute. I love cute nonetheless!