Backwards
Yep, my weight is up again. By half a kilo since Friday morning. But half a kilo is in the “well okay, I did eat some chocolate, I admit” range, which is also the “I can deal with that both psychologically and physically” range. I’ll weigh myself every day until I reach 78 kilos.
I seem to have accidentally fixed our clock table, which is fabulous (and it only took me six months). Which is just a little magical, because I thought last night that I’d irreperably damaged it, but it turned out I’d done exactly the right thing. I also dusted today, which might not sound impressive but it is. There are two possible responses:
1. Dusting? Well of course! How could you not?
2. Dusting? What’s that?
The house looks great, and at the moment that’s symbolic of the whole world. This married-but-no-kids part of life is the most peaceful part (other than possibly old age), and when my house is tidy I feel safe (something I don’t feel very often). My mind may still be structured like this after CJ and I have kids – it’ll just be a different definition of “tidy”. For example:
1. Only one pile of vomit and/or blood to clean up today, hurrah!
2. The nappy smell is only noticeable for two blocks instead of three, hurrah!
3. I already showered this month, so now I can skip it until next time I turn over the calender.
4. Nothin’s on fire, and the rats are restricted to the kids’ room now, hurrah!
#121: Eat CJ’s Trifle
Some time ago, I pointed out to CJ that Donkey (of Shrek fame) makes a deeply erroneous statement that goes a little bit like this: “Parfait! Everyone likes parfait! I ain’t ever heard nobody say, ‘I don’t like no parfait’.”
The fact of the matter is, I don’t like parfait (that is, trifle). At all.
When I told CJ this, he said, “But you haven’t tried my trifle.” We agreed then that I’d have to try it some day. That, my blogospheric friends, was 2007.
So finally, the month came when stars aligned and the moment for trifle was upon us. Family and friends gathered, drooling, and I shrugged noncommitally and took pictures. Here’s CJ’s much-loved recipe:
1. Fill the bottom of a large bowl with jam rolls (no cream) and tinned strawberries. Slice them up a bit with a knife. Make double-strength strawberry jelly (adding the reserved strawberry syrup) and pour it over the rolls and berries. Using the knife, cut it up much more (until, as CJ described it, you have “a pulpy mess”).
Leave it overnight to set.
Mix up custard from a powder, stirring as it cools so it doesn’t get a skin, and layer that over the jelly.
Leave it overnight to set (at this point CJ was buzzing with trifle anticipation).
Whip cream with sugar and vanilla and put it on top. Decorate with fresh strawberries.
Eat it.
So. . . what was the verdict?
Clearly, this was good trifle. But I didn’t like it. Not an entirely surprising thing, since I hate bready desserts, am neutral on jelly, and am lactose intolerant (and dislike most lactose products).
But, oddly, the custard was the best I’d ever tasted – with the texture and subtlety of caramel (which I love).
Play along at home: Make and/or eat trifle.
Coming very soon: Gratitude List
Rediscover Winter Clothes
Three-Ingredient Thursday (#1 of 10)
Go back to bed after breakfast
Celebrating a Milestone (with Yum Cha)
And more. And I should reach the supposed healthy weight range THIS FRIDAY. I’ll let you know what happens. Right now I’ve lost ground over the weekend, and I weigh 79.1 kilos.
#155: Marshmallow Gun
Yep, that special time is finally here. CJ and I cobbled together the following:
1. Blow dart.
Materials: Aluminium foil and sticky tape.
Method: Roll aluminium into a marshmallow-sized tube, fastening it in place with tape. Flare the end if you like.
Loading weapon: Put marshmallow inside tube.
Fire power: Human breath.
Rating: One Star.
2. Catapult.
Materials: Flexible ruler, cardboard and sticky tape.
Method: Use cardboard and tape to make a marshmallow-sized shelf close to one end of the ruler.
Loading weapon: Put marshmallow on shelf and pull back ruler.
Fire power: Elasticity of ruler as it springs back into shape.
Rating: Three stars.
3. Tube Thingy.
Materials: PVC tube, toilet roll tube, large sticky tape.
Cover the end of the smaller tube with sticky tape. Put the taped end just inside the PVC tube.
Loading weapon: Drop marshmallows in the other end of the PVC tube so they rest on the tape.
Fire power: Human muscle as you slam your hand onto the other end of the cardboard tube.
Rating: Two stars.
4. Catapult.
Materials: A spoon, rubber bands, and something to attach them to (in this case, a metal frame with cloth padding added later).
Method: Attach the rubber bands to the frame. Put the spoon in the rubber bands and twist.
Loading strategy: Turn the spoon until the rubber bands are extremely twisted. Put a marshmallow in the spoon.
Fire power: Rubber band elasticity as they return to their normal shape.
Rating: Four stars (extra points for the high likelihood of injury to gunslinger).
5. Cannon.
Materials: Leaf blower, gaffa tape (duct tape), fly screen.
Method: Tape up the outward air hole (not the inward one, fyi) with fly screen and gaffa tape, preferably close to the motor end.
Loading method: Put a whole lot of marshmallows in the outward air hole.
Fire power: Air. Oh, and the electric motor.
Rating: Mwa hahahahaha!!!
All but the last are pictured below:
And naturally there’s a video demonstration (why do I have a cat on my lap? Because that’s what evil people do).
The cat wasn’t harmed. Trust me.
In fact, I took a video of her killing the mighty marshmallow of doom, and I plan to post it next Sunday (regardless of what that day’s awesomeness is).
Play along at home: Choose your gun from the above range and challenge a housemate or family member to a duel (personally, I’d recommend # 5 if you plan to win).
Tomorrow: Eat trifle (finally).
Sunny Daze
The sun is out, the house is clean, and I’m going to do a mid-week weigh-in tomorrow (to find out if being good today and yesterday has made up for a birthday party on Friday). On Friday morning I weighed 78.6 kilos. Next Friday’s goal is to weigh 78, which should be easily possible.
On Wednesday Publisher A rejected “Farting My ABCs”. That was stunningly fast, so much so that I doubt they read more than the synopsis (which means they rejected farting, not my writing). This doesn’t bode super well for my relationship with that publisher, so I won’t send them anything until Publisher B responds to “Stormhunter” and “The Monster Apprentice”.
I was taken by surprise, so I decided to send “Farting My ABCs” out again immediately (I doubt my ability to edit has improved noticeably in the last fortnight), and by email (fast and easy). So I sent it to yet another publisher, who I’ll call Publisher F. Publisher F is extremely consistent in their three-month response time, so that’s a kind of treat. Thus I have five books “out” at the moment, with four publishers. That’s a good spread, particularly with a competition in the mix (which may also get me back into Publisher A’s good graces – if I’m truly out of them).
I was just given two new students, so my schedule is now stable (as stable as it gets) at just over eleven hours a week. My maximum regular workload is twelve hours, so I’m leaving it alone.
I went to church this morning, and didn’t have a panic attack. That was nice.
Today is a good day.
#161: Move furniture at 2am.
I just updated yesterday’s balloon entry, including a video. I hope you like it.
Clearly, there was a party at my place last night. And so it was that I found myself washing dishes at 1am (that’s not actually the awesome part, fyi). Cleaning up the entire party before even going to bed made me feel so darn virtuous that my eye strayed to the fridge.
Let me explain.
The main light switch of our kitchen, and thus our entire living area, is located almost directly behind our full-size fridge. To turn the light on or off, one must lean over the bins, unhinge themself by the elbow, and (with a dextrous twist of the spine), use the very tips of their fingers to manipulate the aforementioned switch.
Further along that wall (where the fridge could go if one didn’t mind it being mostly in the living room rather than the kitchen) is a bookshelf, a day bed, and a double-sized bookshelf. And a vital power point. Then, unsurprisingly, a brick wall.
But I noticed small gaps between each object. Could I shuffle the whole room up, and thus prevent major spinal damage?
I didn’t mention this to CJ. He tends to blink two or three times at my plans, and disapproves of my “What happens if I do THIS?” strategies. But nor did I actually do anything. It seemed highly unlikely that I’d be able to do it on my own, and I try not to order CJ to do stuff I’m not willing to do myself. Thus, I was stuck. Until last night of course, when CJ was playing Portal, the dishes were done, and my spirits were high.
It was easy. Ridiculously easy. Presumably the pixies helped me, especially with moving the large bookcase and the fridge.
And now we can reach the freakin’ lightswitch.
Ta da!
Play along at home: Stay up late enough that you start getting foolish ideas. Put said ideas into practice. Tell us what you did, and if it Actually Worked.
Tomorrow: The long-awaited marshmallow gun!
Oh! Time for the fish report.
My neon tetras have no survived a month in my tank, so I’m pretty confident they’ll live long and happy lives (those that my reticulate didn’t eat, that is). I’m slightly concerned about Gandalf’s fin health, so I’ll be looking into that this week. At present my reticulate and my fighting fish (Gandalf) are eating live worms, as pictured writhing on the gravel here (mmm. . . live spaghetti):
#160: Fill your house with balloons
A hundred balloons and a headache later, I recollected why I don’t do this every day. Ah well.
It could be worse. I could have five tiny (but incredibly sharp) pins attached to every limb. That’d sure suck.
Heh.
But then people came over. Balloons are silly, and so are my friends. Enjoyment ensued. Conversations punctuated with balloon throws quickly turned to mayhem.
Finally I gave everyone their very own dressmaking pin and my house literally exploded.
Bam! Pow! Squee! Colourful corpses everywhere!
At last the fun was done, and I put the pins away. But there were more of them lurking behind the couch! Fortunately, my partner has a sword.
Play along at home: Fill an enemy’s house with balloons. Cost: $6, and a massive headache.
Weight update: .6 of a kilo remaining. This should work.
In other news, remember how I had a pleasant dream of shaming a bunch of footballers? A few nights ago I dreamed I rescued a bunch of footballers from a collapsing mine. So that’s what a subconscious apology looks like.
Since it’s Friday, here’s the twitter tale so far.
THE VAMPIRE DIARIES
3
Woke up totally gross. Had a shower then realised I’m, like, a vampire now. My friend Sammy’s gonna be SO jealous!
*
Spent all day looking for a mirror that works. This sucks! Also I feel super hungry, and I get the feeling celery won’t fix this craving.
4
Killed a guy. He was, like, totally delicious!
#5: Go thrift shopping
I have returned triumphant from the hunt.
This is definitely one of my favourite things to do. And, since I can’t fit back into my jeans yet and my skirts are dying like flies (zippers, bah!) today was definitely the right day. I decided on a budget of $20, and came back with change (and a bra, which isn’t pictured here for self-explanatory reasons).
Yep, it’s Fat Pants O’clock. I can’t tell you how comfy they are (even though I don’t think I’ve worn jeans in six months). And the top is warmer than any of my existing long-sleeved tops (most of which are visibly wearing out). But best of all. . .
The Holy Grail of op-shopping: a full-length wraparound skirt. I can wear it at any weight, it covers my hairy legs, it’s super easy to put on and take off, and it has no buttons or zippers to break. Clothing perfection for $7.
While I was there, I took my chance to delve into the latest op-shop fashion:
I am wearing shoes, a dress, a belt, a tie, two scarves twisted together, a jacket, a handbag (denim with silver stars), and a hat. Like a closer look?
Play along at home: Everyone has to buy clothes sometime. Next time, take however much moolah you have ($5 is often enough for a top, or $7 for jeans), and buy something unique.
Tomorrow: Fill your house with balloons (and I’ll post the twitter tale so far, which you can follow in real time at http://www.facebook.com/pages/Louise-Curtis-Books/287050773170)
S#48: Music
I rarely listen to music, because I’m so hypersensitive that I can very rarely listen to music and do anything else at the same time. I get overwhelmed by the emotion. (The exception is when I’m driving, when music helps me forget that I’m driving, which is a good thing since driving is terrifying to me.)
A few days ago I got a craving for a CD I haven’t listened to in years – Rich Mullins’ “The Jesus record”.
http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/the-jesus-record/id18234553
As the title suggests, it’s a Christian CD. Rich Mullins recorded demos for the album, then died suddenly (in a plane crash) so one CD is his demos, and the other is various other people singing his songs.
The demo is haunting, with Rich Mullins playing along with himself on either piano or guitar. You can hear other people in the room, and the cracks in his voice, and the thunk of the cassette recorder getting stopped and started again. The songs themselves are very good – each one is about Jesus, who is always a fascinating topic.
My favourite thing about Jesus is his vulnerability – growing up as a human child on earth is a daring move – and my least favourite thing is how incredibly difficult he is to understand and/or connect too. The record covers both aspects with gentleness and honesty.
One of the lyrics is the complaint of the disapproving religious elite about Jesus: “The gays all seem to love him and the drunks propose a toast” (I changed to the word “gay” from one that isn’t child-safe, but the principle of the deleted word is the same, ie people the church thinks are bad, but who Jesus loves and spends his time around. The original word refers to “sinful women” but is rude).
Another song addresses God directly:
Do you remember when you lived down here where we all scrape to find the faith to ask for daily bread? Did you forget about us after you had flown away?
. . . your ways and you are just plain hard to get.
It’s rare for me to connect with God (generally my prayers involve a lot of swearing – heartfelt, but not that much fun for either of us), but he showed up today as I cancelled my plans and listened to the CD from beginning to end. When he does show up, the world’s suffering isn’t so bad, my mental illness doesn’t define me, and God himself is as pleasant and ordinary as my cats sprawled delightedly in a patch of sun. I don’t know why God doesn’t make himself obvious all the time, but in moments like this I’m too content to care.
Play along at home: Listen to a CD you loved ten years ago. Or, for bonus points, say hi to God and see if he says hi back.
Tomorrow: Trawling through a secondhand clothes shop. What bizarre treasures will I find this time?
Two-thirds (sorta)
I’m on limited return (to the world of the living) at present. Cautiously okay. Mainly because this morning I’m back at 79 kilos (which is where I was last Friday, but is still technically ahead of the one-kilo-a-week schedule). So another nine days of pain (and Friday’s the biggest birthday of all, so that may hurt a LOT), but there’s a good chance I’ll actually get lower than my 78-kilo goal. Which means there’s plenty more pain coming, but it’s back to being useful pain. I can handle almost anything when it’s meaningful. (But I’ll still stay home and quiet as much as possible.)
Also, the sun is back. That makes a huge difference. And one of my stories is getting professionally paid to appear in the next “Going Down Swinging” magazine (in episode # 30, which is getting launched at the Melbourne Writers’ Festival in September).
So in some ways this is a good week.
#154: Savings. And the unisus kitten
For today’s awesomeness, I put money into a savings account. I aim to put money into that account every month, but this is the first time I’ve managed it this year. Having more than $20 saved up is pretty novel for me, and it’s a wonderful feeling.
But probably not that exciting for you. So here’s something extra awesome just for y’all.
This painting was brought into horrifying being by Jeff Zugale, and if you think the faces look familiar, you’re right. It’s a prompt for a writing competition to help lupus sufferers (because sometimes it IS lupus), and all the details are at http://whatever.scalzi.com/2010/05/30/fanfic-contest/
It’s also my current desktop pic, while I begin writing a story of my own to go with it.
Play along at home: Either (a) Save some money, somewhere; or
(b) Write a fanfic story to go with the picture, and enter it in the competition for unusually good pay.
Felicity Banks 