Vegan RoyaleDon’t get me wrong, I heart food and I appreciate anyone with great cullinary skills – especially all the women in my family who cook!  It’s just that I have never really been motivated to commit to cooking well on a regular basis, preferring instead to buy cookbooks full of pretty pictures or watch tv shows making gorgeous food I’m unlikely to attempt.  It even got to the point where I had to self-impose a ban on any more books full of pretty pictures!  Cut to the recent series Master Chef and all that has changed.  I know my Mum will be pleased that I now regularly bust out the slow cooker on the weekends and make a meal or two to share for the week ahead.  Sometimes I even go so far as to make two courses.  Sometimes.  Now that Master Chef is off the air I feel kinda lost without my tutorials and idea sessions.  I’m not alone, we no longer race to the office in the morning to make comparisons of the previous night’s episode anymore either.  But I did learn an important lesson from the winner Julie.  Cooking can be a great way to show love, to heal, to nurture and to say thank you for the big things and the little things.  You may recall an earlier post where I mentioned Electric Legs has been sick, well one of my first instincts was to cook some food to make him feel a little better.  It seemed to do the trick for now, but he tells me I can’t have a 10 out of 10 for my first meal!  I just like that he thinks there will be a second one, ha ha!!

harden upSelf perception of body image can be a fickle old thing.  I have no idea what I weigh as I don’t own any scales.  I’m not trying to be all girl-power about my physique, I just can’t be arsed.  I don’t even own a decent full length mirror so I’ve no idea if my bum is growing or not.  For the longest time I’ve also had trouble with my appetite, or lack thereof.  Without boring you with the details I found I’ve had to snack on what I can when I feel up to it.  This has often meant good nutrition has, sadly, gone right out the window.  Lately I’ve been telling myself that my morning ritual of peanut butter toast is just going to end in tears, sooner or later.  So it was no surprise to see some photos of me recently (I’m normally behind the lense) and think, “you’ve done it and gone and turned into a fat bastard”.  A few days later when I was wearing some now baggy old clothes that used to fit quite snuggly I found myself giving my ego a stern talking to in the room of mirrors.  It went something like, “get a grip, your belt has gone in five notches, you’re not fat”.  Even so, it was a timely reminder to try and eat in a more balanced manner but more importantly to just enjoy the here and now.

Beach Shacks BlairgowrieSearching for a home sucks.  I almost put blind faith in the Universe yesterday, but my gut told me not to.  I’ve spent countless hours trawling websites for share accommodation to try and find somewhere decent to live.   I’ve discarded ads that use words like ‘unreal’ to describe their abode, or describe themselves as ‘chillin’ kind of people and greet potential housemates via an all inclusive ‘hello people’.  Petty, I know, but it feels wrong in my gut.  But as the weeks have dragged by and I’m still empty handed I’ve progressively lowered my champagne tastes to align with my beer wages in an attempt to find something quickly.  This very fact nearly landed me in hot water yesterday.

One website brings flat’ees and flat’ers together in perfect harmony and regularly emails suggested matches to either party.  So it wasn’t unusual to receive an offer of a place on the city fringe via direct email last week.  A bit of too-ing and fro-ing later and I couldn’t believe my luck to be on the verge of securing such a tastefully furnished place in a great location going so cheap.  To cut a long story short, I was getting even more suspicious as quite a few additional and important questions I had were being skirted around.  So before I threw caution to the wind and took a gamble on blind faith I decided to google this charming young chap’s name, he did send me a scan of his passport in good faith after all.  Imagine my surprise when it came up on a long list of internationally renowned rental scammers.  And so Mr Jeffrey Pride Caulum, I flip you the bird and continue my search with new eyes wide open!

From now on I am always listening to my gut.  Oooh, now it’s rumbling, must dash.

byo hottie in Winter

byo hottie in Winter

Now this might seem like a direct contradiction of my previous post about embracing financial responsibility but I swear bought this stuff before I read How to Give Up Shopping.  So it’s allowed, so ner.  But I digress…

I reckon I hate shopping for swimwear as much as any woman does.  I have wobbly bits I’d rather hide and I’m perennially pale-skinned.  But you see, I also have a very long torso (read general Gigantor-ness, as a friend once said). Now some of you may think I should feel blessed but let me tell you, everytime I hunt down a suitable maillot and wrestle my way into it only for it to bite me back with a giant wedgie I feel anything but.

Imagine my delight to recently find swimwear long enough AND on sale (I know, I know, sales are not my friend sales are not my friend).  Whenever I find shoes, jeans, bras or swimwear that fit me I tend to buy in bulk because experience has shown me there can be a long drought until I find any of it again!

prepping Winter skin for the beach is never easy

prepping Winter skin for the beach is never easy

Cold weather and I are not friends.  More like acquaintances who tolerate each other by way of an amicable truce.  For a few years now I’ve only dreamt of escaping Melbourne’s drawn out Winter blues for somewhere warmer to thaw my bones.  And I’m sure I’m not the only one wishing this year after year!  After two particularly brutal Winters I have decided to take the plunge and go to Bali.  This will be my first decent holiday in five years and to say I am excited is putting it mildly!  I’ve lined up some exciting stuff but left enough room for spontenaity too.  There are cooking classes, some photo excursions, yoga as well as a bike tour through villages and a butterfly farm planned but the rest of the time I plan to wing it (or sit on my bum and read books).  Ahhh, I can feel the serenity already!

Only trouble is I have no swimwear for my tropical paradise getaway and should probably start troweling on the fake tan now in readiness for my departure in t-minus 25 sleeps!