S#63/2: The National Carillon
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#128: Cheese Party
Observant readers may notice that “cheese party” and “self-defence class” are not the same thing. I was sick today, so I’m using awesomeness I prepared earlier. Specifically, last Saturday.
Many of the awesome items on my various lists are the kind of thing that people think of like so: “Hey, wouldn’t it be cool if I. . . nah, I shouldn’t.” This is firmly one of them, for the simple reason that it costs moolah.
So. Cheese. Fun to say, funner still to eat. I wanted to go WAY over the top, so I bought some cheese myself, and also asked each guest to bring a specific type (they got to take home the leftovers, or swap with someone else). In total we ended up with:
Brie, camambert, edam, havarti, gouda (with caraway seeds), swiss, gruyere (which I discovered I hate, and which made the house smell bad for days), blue (which I already knew I hated), apricot and almond, fruit nut and brandy, melon and mango – and basil cashew and parmesan dip (not all of these are in the picture). I made fondue with the swiss and gruyere, and we also had tomatoes and avocado and pepper and various types of crackers, etc. And chicken and cognac pate. And red and white wine. And butterbeer.
It was quite a night. It cost me about $40, and everyone had plenty of delicious loot to take home at the end.
Play along at home: What’s something that costs about $20 that you’ve been putting off doing because you “shouldn’t spend that on something so frivolous.” Go do it. Come back and tell us about it. If it’s especially fabulous, I’ll add it to my own list.
Alternatively, express your awesomeness solidarity by buying one or more of the cheeses from the above list.
Tomorrow: The Carillon
Join me
I just cracked and called the “Farting My ABCs” possible-publisher to check it hadn’t turned into coal in their slush pile (it’s been seven and a half months, and this was my first call). They said, “Oh. Our records say we replied to that some time ago. I’ll get back to you.”
This means it’s probably already rejected. But I thought I’d share this update with y’all so you can share the agonising wait. It could be as long as two weeks, but in theory I’ll know the fate of “Farting My ABCs” later today. I’ll write a post as soon as I know.
Life after death
Everyone except Gandalf is dead (I should probably mention for new readers that Gandalf is a Siamese fighting fish).
I’d already moved Gandalf to a different container, so this means I can clean out the fish tank of death, get closure, and start thinking about how I would have set up the tank if I’d known two weeks ago what I know now. I’m quietly excited about doing it right this time – taking my time to sift through the incredibly conflicting advice that caused me so much trouble. A part of me feels that I should never be allowed near fish again, but it’s pretty easy to tell that one bad experience shouldn’t define me. So I won’t let it.
I spent yesterday watching the lingering deaths of creatures under my care. (That’s almost certainly Gandalf’s fate, too, although it’s hypothetically possible he’ll get better.) Today can’t help but be a better day than that. Plus it’s a weekday, which means I just might get a reply from a publisher today (it’s two months yesterday since I was told that “Stormhunter” was getting discussed by the two heads of the children’s department of a big publisher).
My official weekly weigh-in is tomorrow, but I see friends (and thus chocolate) on Mondays, so it’s likely I’ll eat too many corn chips to compensate (I’m allowed to eat corn chips, cheese, nuts, fruit, etc in whatever proportions my self-control can manage) – so I weighed myself today, just in case things go horribly wrong tomorrow morning. I now weigh 81.9 (I ate a LOT of cheese on Saturday, but exercised for twice as long on Sunday). This means I am no longer the heaviest I’ve ever been. It also means that if I lose .4 today I’ve lost two kilos this week (something that’s only ever possible in the first week of dieting, so I’m definitely going to try with all my heart).
I’m at the point in a diet where I do feel faint and hungry and I still instinctively reach for chocolate before remembering I’m not doing that at the moment – but I feel good. I know I’m getting somewhere, and I know that everything I eat will taste twice as good as usual. And eating vast quantities of chocolate certainly isn’t good for anyone’s self-esteem, so I feel better about myself each day I eat properly.
I’m trying not to think about how far I have to go. Hopefully I’ll be in the 70s by the first week of Term 2 (two weeks away, so perfectly plausible). Then I’ll decide whether to continue being strict, or to take a couple of weeks to eat moderate amounts of chocolate before another push into the mystical Healthy Weight Range.
I’m getting some cramps etc, so I’m still sick – but my metabolism is back, so I don’t care. Three cheers for Fel’s metabolism!
PS I JUST received my latest test results, and apparently I’m massively constipated (and that’s why I have diarrhoea? Whatever. . .) So I’m to go on a laxative for a week, and drink a lot of water and eat a lot of fibre. I won’t blog about the process (you’re welcome), but I’ll let you know in 1-2 weeks if it worked. The cool part is that it confirms my notion that this illness was causing weight gain, especially in the belly area.
#110: Play an elaborate prank (aka Secret Number Two)
Two confessions: First, I did this last Saturday, not technically today.
Second, my original plan was much more elaborate, but I realised it was cruel to animals, so I didn’t do it (I was going to sneak my fish into a friend’s house and put them in his drinking glasses – inside the cupboard).
So what did I do?
Last Saturday a friend and I hosted a cheese and wine party at her house (eventually it’ll be blogged about here, but this week is full). Technically, her “house” is a two-storey flat with a balcony.
At around eleven at night, when everyone was relaxed, I went to the bathroom. No-one suspected a thing. I went quietly out the front door, hitched up my ankle-length satin skirt (really!) and climbed up the outside wall, utilising:
1) the bumper of someone’s car
2) a wheelie bin (which I moved. . . those things aren’t as solid as they look, by the way)
3) the bathroom window ledge
4) a handily-placed security light
5) the carport roof
6) a metal fence between the carport and the roof
7) the balcony.
I did all of this in silence (despite the fact that the carport roof is made of tin), and without flashing anyone (at least, not as far as I know).
When I’d rearranged my voluminious skirts, I was ready.
(Oh, did I mention it had been raining?)
The half dozen slightly sozzled friends inside all heard the knock on the door. I like to think all of them had a little moment where they wondered just who or what fantastic creature enters through the second storey door.
They came and opened the door (I noticed it was the menfolk who actually did the deed), and their faces were a delight to see. They refused to let me in until I explained how I’d done it.
Life is better when there’s the occassional hint of the surreal.
Thanks once again to http://wordgardening.blogspot.com for inspiring today’s awesomeness.
Play along at home: Wear a fake moustache to work (extra points if you’re a girl), or remove an item of furniture from your sister’s room (minus points if you upset her). Serve someone tea with pink food colouring, or walk to work on stilts. Do something just a bit off-kilter, and enjoy turning the universe slightly to the left.
Tomorrow: Self defense class at Belconnen Community Centre at 8pm.
S#63/1: Guitar Trek
Steph Metal’s suggestion number 63 (from http://steffmetal.com/101-ways-to-cheer-yourself-up/) is to experience new things – something new every day for a week!
I began today, seeing “Guitar Trek” at the ANU at 2:50pm, as part of the ABC “Sunday Live” program.
As you can guess from their own photo, they were creative with their guitars – by turns rhythmic, soothing, passionate, eerie and even funny. They used a variety of guitars including a steel string and a twelve-string, and at one point they got all percussive, too.
Play along at home: Search radio stations in your area for what’s happening – it’s astonishing how much free entertainment is out there. If you’re from Canberra, come to ANU School of Music Sundays at 2:50 – next week is the Royal Military College Band, and again I’ll be there.
Coming soon (if all goes well):
Monday: Secret # 2 (substituting next Sunday’s “new thing” for that day in order to have a full seven days).
Tuesday: Self defence class at Belconnen Community Centre at 8pm.
Wednesday: Carillon performance from 12:30-1:20 (the Carillon is a giant building that is also a musical instrument. Unbelievably, I’ve never heard it played).
Thursday: “My convict ancestor” talk at the Botanic Gardens theatrette (donation entry), 12:30pm.
Friday: Display of art at the North Lyneham Gallery Cafe.
Saturday: Either “The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus” at ANU Film Club or a Jane Austen ball.
Sunday: Royal Military College Band live at ANU thanks to Sunday Live.
Death
Two more fish have died, and the rest are sick. I’m too upset to write more.
I’ve bought medicine, plus yet another thing to treat the water. But I bet they all die in the next twenty-four hours.
#127: Unusual exercise
I have a friend who is six years younger than me. When she turned sixteen (four years ago) I went to her party, and played DDR (“Dance Dance Revolution”) for the first time. This is what the game looks like (the screen shows moving arrow combinations, and you step on the corresponding foot arrows in time, or try to):
I am now twenty-eight years old – a great-great grandmother in arcade game years. But I still sometimes dig up the courage to go and play DDR.
It’s exercise, sure. But because you’re concentrating on trying to put your feet on the right arrow at the right time, you are distracted from the usual boredom, sweat and pain. It’s strangely compelling.
Play along at home: Sneak into an arcade and play DDR for yourself ($1 gets you 3-5 songs if you don’t die horribly). Or just go for a walk somewhere you haven’t walked before.
Tomorrow: “Guitar Trek” at the ANU school of music (free, and at 2:50pm, fyi) – another great performance organised by ABC classic FM (at least I assume it’s great – it hasn’t happened yet). And don’t worry – secret #2 is coming soon. It’s. . . complex.
S#13: Take a bath (and twitter)
Today, for the first time in about five years, I took a bath. I did it RIGHT. There were bubbles, there was a great book, there was a towel behind my back, and I had a bottle of cool drink at my side. I thought it’d feel weird to be in a bath, but it felt grand.
No photos, though 😉
“BRIDEZILLA” so far:
1.
It’s pay day, so I buy pillows. Luckily my wedding dress makes a good maternity dress. I hope this plan works. Tomorrow, here I come.
2.
I dress as a VERY expectant bride and go to the bakery store. As I order a huge pile of hot cross buns, I put one hand to my giant stomach.
*
“Oh you poor dear!” says the matronly type I’ve been observing for days. “Don’t bother paying for those buns.”
*
She winks, “And may I STRONGLY recommend entering our restaurant-dinner-for-two competition?”
I obey her while silently applauding my act.
3.
Today I’m a goth bride with heavy eye-makeup and blood-red feathers on my neckline. I mingle in the bar before Amanda Palmer’s concert.
*
Amanda comes out, hugs me, then takes in my full outfit. “Congrats,” she says – “And you’re NOT paying – or your fiancé, wherever he is.”
*
Being a goth bride rocks. It’s even better than yesterday’s pregnancy. I’ve never enjoyed a concert so much – or been given so much beer.
4.
I promised my daughter a huge pile of Easter eggs – but I also promised she could continue at her school. So I dress her as my flower girl.
*
Easter eggs: Check. Nausea: check. Chocolate smears on May’s face: check. Getting chocolate for a flower girl at Easter is almost too easy.
*
A shrill voice cuts through my pleasure – my ex-bridesmaid, Cherie. “Anna! Did Rob come back and marry you after all?”
“Uh. . . sure. Yep.”
5.
I’m embarrassed after lying to Cherie, so today I go for the dumped bride look. My mascara runs beautifully, and I get more hot cross buns.
*
As I’m lugging a garbage bag of buns to my car, one of the bakery girls comes and helps me. She says, “Wait a second, do I recognise you?”
*
I shake my head, but she says, “Yes! I saw you dumped on YouTube. . . but that was a month ago. What the. . .?”
I flee.
6.
Today I dress as a mum. An emotionally and financially stable mum. I try to arrange my stockings so the holes are hidden inside my shoes.
*
“We’ve been making allowances because of your. . . incident. . . a month ago. But we must have next term’s fee by the end of this month.”
*
After the meeting, I go give May a hug. Her teacher stops me and asks for my number.
“Oh no! What did May –”
“Nothing. I want to call YOU.”
7.
I eat hot cross buns, and ask my boss for a raise. Neither goes down well.
*
When May gets home, I interrogate her about her dark-haired, dark-eyed teacher.
She says, “He’s nice. I got to be the queen in story time.”
8.
I get the card for the free dinner for two at a real restaurant. Yay! Less than an hour later my landlord “drops by”. Uh-oh.
*
May’s teacher calls, and arranges to pick me up on Saturday. My heart’s fluttering so hard, I can’t eat my dinner (of hot cross buns).
9.
May dresses in her best dress for our dinner of Real Food. I wear a skirt. They greet us with champagne. “Where’s the other newlywed?”
*
“Uh. . . he had to work,” I say. They hustle us to our highly beflowered table and tell us to order anything we want. We do.
*
May gets them to make her a hamburger. I have a huge pile of meat and a giant salad. Neither of us eats our bread rolls.
Substitute Addictions
I have a problem with chocolate. I know that. I always will have a problem with chocolate. I know that too. All I can do is keep it under control.
Probably the main reason for my chocolate problem is that I need some way of expressing how angry I am most of the time. People who know me will know that I don’t swear (except ironically) or lift my voice or slap them for no reason. That’s all thanks to chocolate. For me, stuffing my face with chocolate is the healthiest thing to do. But rumour has it there are better options.
Yesterday was a reasonably difficult day. I had to fast until about midday, I had to go to an unfamiliar place for expensive medical tests (and expose my giant belly to the nice lady, not that she commented), I felt responsible for the death of another living being, various people owed me hundreds of dollars, and when I weighed myself (hoping to get something encouraging) the results were ominously underwhelming.
So I bought more fish. And a heater. The fish shop confirmed my notion that buying more neon tetras was the right thing to do (and in fact if I’d done it sooner instead of being cautious, Frodo1 might still be alive), and the heater also helped to assuage my conscience. I now have five neon tetras, and have also been able to observe that I was wrong – Sam’s colouring was just fine all along.
The tetras in their bag were very interesting to Sam (the original tetra) and Gandalf (the fighting fish).
The danios reacted by running laps around the tank, and by returning to their old habit of attacking their reflections. But they haven’t bitten the tetras, so it’s all good (they have chased them a bit, but that’s okay). Fish aren’t known for behaving in a cute manner, but it WAS cute to see all the tetras interacting through the clear plastic. Once I let them into the main tank, it was as if I’d scattered a handful of glitter into the water.
I also felt much better for playing “Dance Dance Revolution” yesterday as my Daily Awesomeness (“Unusual exercise”, which I plan to post this weekend). I thought I might be sore today, so I also rode my exercise bike for five minutes yesterday evening. The bike faces the fish tank, which makes it slightly less boring, and I’ve found that five minutes of riding makes me feel good without making me stink.
So my three potential new addictions are:
1. Buying new things for the fish (tetras like plants, and almost all fish like filters).
2. Buying. . . anything. Because only powerful people spend money, so it feels good every time.
3. Exercise. (Hilarious, I know.)
I also read a piece of advice on Donald Miller’s blog that was very interesting. The advice was given to men who want to attract women (yes I read the whole article, why do you ask?), and it was that you should build your self-esteem by being good at something.
I really like the idea of having some concrete way to feel better about myself, even though I recognise that actual skill takes a LONG time. I’m good at writing, I speak Indonesian with 90% fluency, I’m good at solving unusual problems, I’m good at Daily Awesomeness (I’ve always been the person who hears someone say, “Gee I’d like to. . . ” and then does whatever it is on their behalf), I’m good at tutoring, and I’m good at running a household. My focus is on writing, Daily Awesomeness, and running a household. That’s probably enough to do, but if I change my mind I think I’ll start getting good at playing acoustic guitar.
PS Today is fabulous – I have no work except writing, I’m basically at home (except for fun grocery shopping related to the cheese party I’m hosting tomorrow night) and I weighed myself and found I weighed 82.6 – that’s almost a kilo less than on Tuesday, and it proves that I AM now able to lose weight at my normal rate (2 kilos the first week, and 1 kilo after that, except sometimes when my cycle messes things up). Two of the three people who owed me money have now paid, and I should find out today (a) how much repairing our car needs, and (b) the results of yesterday’s tests.
Felicity Banks 