Monday, February 28, 2005
After a bit of a sleep-in, batreg and I took off on the Metro to climb the Arc de Triomphe. Last time I was here (in 2001), I couldn't work out how to get across the roundabout from hell and up the stairs. I was obviously dense back then because it was so easy. We came off the Metro, walked up the stairs, and VOILA - there was another set of stairs directing people to the ticket booth for the Arch. After paying our 7 euro entry fee, we turned to the bottom of the spiral staircase to be told that it is 285 steps to the top. Too late to turn back now, so up we went. I tell you what, with all this walking up and down stairs, we will be cracking walnuts or modelling for bikini commercials in no time. The view from the top of the Arch is quite stunning, and finally we had a decent weather day up there so we weren't contending with too much cold or frost. It was a bit windy, but OK for pictures and a quick look-around.
After descending the 285 stairs, we walked up the Champs-Elysees to take in some shopping experiences. We bought some baguettes for lunch and kept walking along to eat them. If you've ever seen a map of Paris, you'll know how long this road is, so the refreshments along the way were much needed. We stopped in at the Gap to fix batreg up with a coat (very chic), and wandered through the Jardin de Tuileries, through to the Louvre. A quick picture of the glass Pyramid, a coffee in a neat little Salon du The, and we were back at the Metro to come home.
My legs aren't tired now so I must be getting used to the walking around and admiring the view. There is certainly no shortage of either opportunity here. After last night's pizza dinner at Cafe Momo down the road, we're heading to an authentic French restaurant tonight to check the menu out there. At least I can be sure that whatever I eat or drink tonight will be walked off tomorrow!
Originally uploaded by tink007.
I have tried to be sophisticated and set up a "photostream" to showcase the first batch of Hong Kong photos.
To access the photos, you need to click on the picture of Nathan Street (above), and then keep clicking on "next in stream" to scroll through them.
If it doesn't work, don't blame me.
Sunday, February 27, 2005
Last night we went to dinner at Nick and Celine's place (two of Kate's friends) and met some other expats with whom Kate now spends a fair bit of her time. It was a real melting pot of cultures and backgrounds at dinner last night - French people, Aussies, Americans, Scotts - the list went on.
We caught a cab to the James Bond ball, and got there about 11pm. As we left Nick and Celine's it started to snow, and I tried my best to look like this sort of thing happened to me all the time. Quietly of course I was so excited that the snow had started to fall and that I was actually dressed for it.
It's hard not knowing people and so there was a lot of casual chit-chat as we got acquainted with Kate's expat crew, but I came away from the party confident that Kate has found some really nice people here. Lovers of drink, dancing, and generally having a great time.
Of course the 12-hour flight from Hong Kong caught up with us quickly and we had to come home. Kate gave us her keys and we rugged up to face a wait for a taxi ride back to the flat. We realised that we were in the Pigalle section of Paris (like this was meant to mean something to us). As it turns out, the Pigalle is the area containing the Moulin Rouge, obviously a tourist drawcard, and therefore a strong likelihood of taxi presence.
Unfortunately our exit also coincided with a heavy snowfall so, to coin a phrase from "The Sound of Music", the snowflakes stayed on our nose and eyelashes, but it was not one of my favourite things at all. In fact it was rather annoying because it made it tricky to see where we were going. But after seeking some directions to a taxi rank from strip club bouncers, we walked to the Place de Clichy to get a cab. I couldn't find a taxi rank, because I realised I didn't actually know what they look like. So I stood in the middle of an intersection (pretty much) and nearly threw myself at full force in front of an available taxi.
Fortunately one stopped for us and got us back to the flat safely. We threw ourselves into bed and slept until nearly 1pm this afternoon. When we finally got moving we went to a Monet gallery by the Bois de Boulogne on the outskirts of the City - very nice way to spend the afternoon. The snow came down heavily again as we sat at a coffee shop (Salon du The), and so the refills on the hot coffee were restorative in a big way.
I think we will spend the next few days doing the tourist thing - Eiffel Tower, Louvre, and all that "culture and crap" which should be a nice 'au revoir' to Paris before we head off on the train tour.
Thanks to all those who have emailed their well wishes - I will write back soon.
Saturday, February 26, 2005
So it was on with the polar fleece and scarf, and trying to be good-humoured as we took the airport bus from Charles de Gaulle all the way into the Paris Opera, where Kate met us. When we found Kate's apartment, we enjoyed a fabulous French breakfast of fresh baguette (plus Vegemite), strong coffee, and pain au chocolat (chocolate croissants) and other danishes.
After breakfast we had a shower to freshen up (much needed given our zombied state), and took off to go shopping and sight seeing. I really needed a pair of gloves and a warm coat. Walking around a few blocks, we found "Brontebay" and I picked up a pair of black leather gloves with cashmere lining, which are absolutely beautiful and super warm. Then it was off to Zara, where I found a beige coloured zip-up jacket which is also super warm. Given the colour, I will of course attract every speck of dust and crap between here and Italy but at least I now have a decent top - no more polar fleece!
Tonight is a James Bond party with Kate's expat group, then tomorrow will most likely be more sight seeing in my fabulous new gloves and jacket. I don't think I will be appropriately dressed for it, but most of Kate's friends already know Andrea and I are coming, so no doubt they will make allowances for our attire. Maybe I will flash them my gloves.....
Off to have a late afternoon nap now - will write again soon.
Friday, February 25, 2005
In only two days, with our trusty chauffeur Robert to guide the way, batreg and I delighted in Hong Kong's sights, smells, and sounds. What no guide book felt honest enough to mention is the climate in February. We had fog, we had mist, we had cloud. And in that sense (and that sense alone), it was a shame we had a Harbor-view hotel room. We could only see out the window for such a small amount of time in the day, which was disappointing. I would say that, on a clear day, it would make for a magic sight.
We went to Victoria Peak, which again purports to have stellar views over Hong Kong. However, the site was deserted owing to the awful weather, and there was nothing to see up there anyway. In fact, it was quite treacherous because we were slipping and sliding over the rained-on tiles as the mist closed in around us. Eerie stuff.
We then went to the Stanley markets where I was in fear of being mugged (irrationally of course). A horrible coffee from the Delifrance chain accompanied us on a meander through the windy streets to peruse the shops selling pretty much the same things. Andrea and I emerged with a souvenir print each. Tacky souvenirs can wait I think.
After the market trip, we went to Repulse Bay, which is a misnomer if ever I have heard one. The beach is actually quite nice, with soft (treated) sand, and a calm swimming area. Off to one side is a collection of Chinese sculptures - mostly Buddha and other deities. Andrea and I walked across the Bridge of Long Life, to give us long life (DUH) and, upon direction, also fondled a stone that purports to see you fall in love and get hitched in the near future. I'll keep you all posted on that front (gulp).
All this misty touring works up an appetite, so we caught a ferry to Jumbos, the floating restaurant. For $7A each, we feasted on dim sum, but of course I used a fork. Never have masted those chopsticks. The meal was delicious, and the accompanying jasmine tea was a really relaxing (albeit hallucinogenic) condiment.
To work off the hearty meal, we took a public bus up to the Pao Lin Monastery. Again, the entire complement of passengers trusted our lives to the bus driver as we wound up and up a mist-covered mountain. We were rewarded with more fog. Oh, and the biggest Buddha I've never seen (fog fog fog). To see the Buddha we had to climb up about 700 stairs and I tell you - my legs are positively killing me. But the peace and quiet at the top was worth the effort. You know it's funny - it didn't matter what nationality my fellow tourists were - we were united in the common expression of pain and anguish as we ambled, mountain goat-style up step by step. We shared the common "oh-god-why-are-we-enduring-this-ridiculous-vertical-ascent" moments, and it was gratifying to notice. But they do say 'no pain no gain', so perhaps the muscle spasms will subside and reveal shapely, toned legs. Yeh. Moving on.
After Buddha, we went back to the Hotel and had dinner with my Dad and his colleague in Nathan Street. Shopping mecca, crazy place. A lot like Kuta in Bali, and a real place that never sleeps.
Next stop is Paris - our flight leaves nearly midnight, and the cute guy at the checkin counter promised to try and get us better seats on the plane. I don't care really - I plan to sleep. Katie tells me that a James Bond party awaits us in France's snowy capital.
Will write more soon. I should have done this holiday "thing" years ago - it's such a blast!
Monday, February 21, 2005
Originally uploaded by Dey.
I have been up for way too long today and have spent the better part of tonight reserving holiday accommodation online. I am highly doubtful that some of the hotels I wanted to book are REALLY fully occupied on the dates I selected. I think some tourism operators are in cahoots, that's what I reckon. It's a conspiracy, I tell you.
I even ended up writing to two convents and emailed them in Italian. Here's hoping the nuns stop laughing at my rusty Italian long enough to check their booking sheets. If there proves to be no room at the inn, Reg & I will no doubt be bag ladies in Rome, wheeling our belongings behind us to all the sites.
Cross fingers, cross eyeballs, whatever it takes - just keep the good vibrations coming and maybe we'll get somewhere. And be allowed to stay there.
Sunday, February 20, 2005
Blah! I'm a monster!
Originally uploaded by robotgirl.
In my fatigued and caffeine-addled brain, I found today's paper quite amusing.
A story from Melbourne says that a giant eel has found its way into a trout farm. Theories abound as to its Scottish ancestry and a reward is being offered for its safe capture for relocation to the Melbourne Aquarium.
The eel has a head the size of a football, apparently. I say send in Rex Hunt to give it a big pash. Yibbita Yibbita and all that rot.
I really have to go back to bed.
Saturday, February 19, 2005
Originally uploaded by tink007.
Yesterday's family BBQ was a great opportunity to get the Clan together (biologicals and non-biologicals) for an Aussie BBQ.
Kudos to kilabyte for truly legendary hamburgers and to Rae for keeping the champagne flowing.
Jems presented me with a truly international and really creative farewell banner. Thankfully it was not a photo board - not one of my favourite things. Leaving her for a year is not going to be pretty.
I'd take my sister with me in my hand luggage if it wasn't already stuffed with Tim Tams of almost every variety, and Vegemite in neat little squeezy tubes (what will they think of next?). Katie will very soon have a serious Vegemite fix if her Parisian pantry is lacking in it, that's for sure.
Sorry in advance to the family members and friends who figured that I wouldn't read the beautiful things you wrote in my travel journal before I actually took off. I know I wasn't supposed to peek, but too bad. At least I waited until you'd all gone home before I read your messages. So naturally, another champagne-fuelled sob session followed and none of you were there to see it. Phew.
This morning as I reflect on what was said and done yesterday, I know how lucky I am to have such great loved ones. And I'm fortunate that I can read back over my journal while I'm away and remind myself of that fact over and over.
I'll just make sure that batreg keeps a supply of Kleenex at the ready for me.
Thursday, February 17, 2005
Originally uploaded by Jan Tik.
Okay so this pic is more "me" after an hour-long shopping spree in the City yesterday. I decided several days ago that I needed long pants to travel (in addition to jeans) and that, once I had them, I would be ready to roll.
But today's sentiment over at batreg was echoed yesterday after browsing the shops. I realised quite quickly that I had to buy what was on the shelves - I couldn't wait till next season. Normally the 'pressure shop' is an adrenalin rush of the best kind. Yesterday it sucked.
And I also had to shop for pants that I knew would still fit me with the weight loss I plan to endure walking around the European landscapes. This isn't wishful thinking if you consider my body when I got back from Europe last time. I looked good, felt great, and my cargo pants fell down when I breathed in. But that was the result of a 'no wine, no beer, not much dairy' diet that I adopted by virtue of living in a one-room apartment like an outcast. After all, no point buying runny brie if there's no one to help eat it. Communal living would have been better for that I now accept.
Since I will be living communally with our batreg in the coming months, chances are the temptation to indulge in brie, wine, and other local (ie fattening) delicacies will be much more prevalent.
So I made batreg promise yesterday that she won't let us indulge TOO much. I agreed to negotiate the purchase of our goods in the foreign language required, as long as she ensured the quantity was appropriate for moderate consumption.
No more tantrums in clothing stores. You heard it here first folks.
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Originally uploaded by tozzo.
I read once that you should leave the house every day dressed as if you were going to run into your high school nemesis. The idea of this little pearl of wisdom is that if you're always feeling dressed to your best, you can face anyone and anything with your head held high.
I get the feeling that ever since I missed my high school reunion, I've been dodging some serious karmic retribution. And when I get to Hong Kong next week, I'm going to have a word with the freestanding Buddha about why he's come to collect now.
In the past week I have seen many ghosts of younger years - people who in a small town like Adelaide, I've thankfully managed to avoid. The reasons for this "duck and weave" mentality are too big and too weird even for this blog, so I'll leave you in ignorance. Suffice it to say, it IS possible to exist here and disappear into the background if you really want to.
But I suppose Buddha has made it his personal mission to make my last week in Adelaide a time to make me face up to those situations, or most recently those people, to whom I have nothing left to say. So each time, I have been forced to shuffle by and, in silence, intently study my shoes until they pass. Fortunately I heeded the advice I'd read and I was dressed comfortable on each UNcomfortable occasion. Phew.
I can only therefore wonder about the boy who shared my bus bench yesterday afternoon - what clothing advice had he read?
You know the type I'm talking about - white gangsta rapper wannabe. Like a midget Eminem; tragic really. White, old Converse sneakers, blue tracksuit pants with very little elastic in the waist, satin boxer shorts poking out about 1 inch above the top of the trackies (the boxers had little red chillis on them - a wilful euphemism on his part perhaps?). Romeo also displayed a bare pigeon-chest with a NBL basketball top casually draped over one shoulder. Hold me back.
Perhaps the only people the mini rapper should worry about running into are the fashion police.
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
L' AnÃ©e DerniÃ¨re a Marienbad
Originally uploaded by anapinta.
Everyone is well aware that my subconscious is perhaps a weirder world than this one. My dreams are often vivid, certainly in colour and, on occasion, contain clear messages or signs. What I do with those signs is up to me. If you believe in all that malarkey.
Last night's dream was set in a house very similar to the one in this photo (thanks to 'anapinta' over at flickr).
The dream was probably my subconscious tapping into Nicole Kidman and her film "The Others". I say this because my dream centered around me following the housekeeper around as she locked each door behind us to prevent the ghosts escaping.
She was quite up-front about the supernatural tenants and said that, as long as we removed our shoes each time we came into the house, all would be well.
Time had gone on and I was still following the housekeeper around with no sign of ghosties.
And then a lady turned up who I think was eager to buy the house. We did the obligatory "here is the observatory", "here is the kitchen" sorta tour, and then we came up to the study.
We walked in, and there she was. Reclined on the sofa, reading quite a big book, was the ghost of a lady in a white nightdress, with long and flowing hair. But she was actually the ghost of a mummy. Her flesh did not look attached to her bones in any reliable way.
Behind her on the wall unit was the ghost of a little boy (more solid this time), attempting to throw fine bone china at the ghost of a butler, who was swatting him away and telling him to get down.
I waved at the lady's ghost, simply because I saw her so clearly. This took the housekeeper by surprise; however, the ghost did not wave back. She went back to her reading and we continued with the open inspection.
I asked the housekeeper what she was reading. Upon hearing her reply (Thomas Hardy), all I could say was "well, that's quite an undertaking".
Monday, February 14, 2005
Roasted Chicken Nachos
Originally uploaded by bump.
I found this nachos photo and recipe over at flickr.com, where all good photos (and chicken nachos recipes) go to "roost" - sorry, just some lame holiday humour there. Thanks to Mark for the pic and the top hints on how to prepare his stellar dish.
This photo is relevant to today's post because of the delightful dinner I have coming up tonight. Yes, another farewell for myself and batreg. This time, we're saying 'adios' to Courts and Tone. But I will remain brave and dry-eyed. No one has made me cry yet (the alcohol soaked sob-fest at Christmas time does not count).
So tonight we combine nachos, margaritas, sangria, and conversation to create a memorable and fun-filled farewell. No tears allowed, but crazy conga dancing around the restaurant and spontaneous pashing of waiters is okay.
Speaking of which, it is really a shame that the cute Frenchman with the slight paunch no longer works at the Vietnamese restaurant across the road from tonight's dinner venue. Sigh, he was such good eye candy while enjoying Mexican delights. Good eye candy while enjoying Vietnamese delights too, but one simply can't seem too keen and go in there all the time!
Such a cosmopolitan street is Melbourne Street, wouldn't you say?! I will miss it.
Sunday, February 13, 2005
Saturday, February 12, 2005
Thursday, February 10, 2005
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
Monday, February 07, 2005
If you need a quick refresher on the sins (or on the Brad Pitt/Morgan Freeman film), the seven sins are:
26% of women surveyed said that "lust" was the sin they most enjoyed committing. I like that.
Survey participants said that the 2005 list of 'deadly' sins should recognise the idea that a sin is a sin if it leads to actions that hurt other people.
For this reason, participants argued for greed to stay on the list, accompanied by:
*Sigh* Something tells me the 2005 movie wouldn't be any good if Kevin Spacey was finding all his sinners in the halls of Parliament, but that's just me.
Originally uploaded by tink007.
I have decided to be a little sentimental in the last days before I flee to the other side of the world.
So I've composed a slideshow of Aussie pics over at www.flickr.com that you might like to look through.
Click on the photo of Guy and when the Flickr website loads, you just need to click on the "next in set" arrow to see the full slideshow.
Bear in mind that this isn't supposed to be computer programming at its best; rather, I'm just practising to make sure I know how to do this stuff while I'm away. I think a Paris slideshow or a Rome slideshow will be fun to share with you too.
Sunday, February 06, 2005
Originally uploaded by tink007.
According to the Chinese calendar, roosters are organised, excellent time-keepers, love money, and are show-offs. Coupled with this, they are usually always right - and don't they know it!
As someone born in the year of the Snake, I enjoy fine food and get-togethers. I therefore plan to live up to this reputation and join in Chinese New Year celebrations tomorrow night.
Having been born with Wood as my lucky Chinese sign, it would appear that my "lucky times" are between 3am and 7am (I say nothing), and apparently sour foods and vegetables are good for me, but I neverthless have to watch my nervous system and gall bladder. Yeh I'll do that.
Check out the Chinese Fortune website to determine what will come your way in 2005, and particularly what body parts you'll need to watch this year!
Happy Chinese New Year to all!
To the untrained eye, my absence from the world's catwalks and catalogues has to do with the fact I am 5'2" (in heels) and weigh as much as two supermodels. But no.
This morning's episode revealed to me the real reason Gucci and Chanel don't call. I don't get dressed fast enough.
The parcel delivery man visited me this morning, while I was swanning around the house in my new Peter Alexander PJs. [Editor's Note: They are fabulous pyjamas, but probably not suitable for the eyes of too unfamiliar a man].
So as Barkley goes crazy alerting me to the guy's arrival, I am literally scrambling for a top to cover myself. And upon finding a top, do you think I could put it on under pressure?! ARGH so frustrating.
And by the time I wrestled myself into the top, I didn't have time to confirm it was on the right side out, or see what my hair and make-up were doing. I can't begin to imagine what the delivery man thought.
So there it is - I may not be modelling for Missoni or parading for Prada, but I don't suppose I mind all that much. I reckon my catwalk companions would relish my slow, holiday-mode routine and they might actually enjoy not doing anything quickly.
If they ever want to swap places once in a while, I guess a strut down a catwalk could be good exercise for me. As long as my costume changes could be just a little longer. Quality can't be rushed, you understand.
Saturday, February 05, 2005
Motorpsycho - What If . . .
You are lively and energetic, and probably devote a lot of that energy to intellectual pursuits.
Asking questions and seeking answers is recreation to you, and besides that, you're quite good at it. Intensely creative, you make life an adventure for the people around you - people love being with you because the time is never dull. Whether it's an intense discussion about an important issue (which you've probably thought much about and your companions only pretend to understand) or light-hearted banter, you know how to keep the conversation interesting.
What's Your Theme Song?brought to you by Quizilla
Sniff - never heard it, but I quite like the description.
Okay, bored again. Time to lapse into that trance once more.
Friday, February 04, 2005
I have committed myself to catching up with my disparate groups of friends before the 23 February take-off. But so far the common denominator in these social engagements seems to be alcohol.
Martini (Originally uploaded by tink007)
Looking at my diary for the next fortnight is like gazing at the life of THE most hedonistic alcoholic you're ever likely to find.
Cocktails here, dinner there, more cocktails somewhere else.
But just before you think I'm telling you this to complain, think again. I love it.
But I can't help but wonder whether the Lonely Planet people are publishing a global directory of Betty Ford clinics, just in case a rapid detox is necessary.
Thursday, February 03, 2005
Originally uploaded by tink007.
Oh joy and rapture. The anti-ageing cream I have been slathering on my face for the past 6 months seems to be working! I showed up at the optometrist today for the 'routine' eye exam (eg every 2 years), to be told that my vision has actually improved since I was last there. I have the same vision I had when I was 21 years old.
Buoyed at the transmission of such good news, I floated on a cloud around the store to select a pair of frames, guaranteed to be 50% off (another bonus, yay for me). And supported by a genuinely lovely salesperson (a rare find), the ultimate choice came down to a pair of blue frames, and a pair of pink Modo frames.
Never much of a girly girl, I tended towards the blue pair. However, there was just something about the pink pair, and so I popped them on again for one last look. The dialogue that followed went something like this:
Me: Let me just try these pink ones again
(At this point, I slam the glasses on face, and critically appraise my reflection)
Her: Oh they are very cute.
Me: I'm not sure I'm going for cute. Maybe I should be going for "take me seriously".
Her: No you're not, you're going for cute.
Me: Okay I'll take them.
And before you say it, I know - there's one born every minute.
I am a little nervous about arriving on a Saturday at 6am, given that I'm quite sure many Parisians will be out and about somewhere near that time. Paris never sleeps, surely.
And I'm more than likely going to be wearing polar fleece. Andrea has made me freak out about that. It's not like I'm wearing fur, right?!
Oh well, at least La Tour Eiffel will always be there. I can throw myself from her lofty heights if I make any hideous fashion faux-pas. Like wearing polar fleece down the Champs-Elysees.
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
I am trying to navigate my way around the youth hostels of France and Italy, marvelling as I go at the mental image of batreg and myself wheeling our belongings the 700 metres (precisely) between the train station and the hostel's front door. Can it be done? What if we go 700 metres in the wrong direction?
But I tell you, I'm getting the hang of this travel planning stuff. I have devised a proverbial route around France and Italy, investigating scenic and 'character' hostels along the way. All have internet booking (gods be praised), and most have internet cafes on site (ahh love it). One of the hostels is right in a medieval village, another is at the foot of an Alp (just one), and another is overlooking the Meditteranean.
With the exception of having to wear flip-flops in the shower and wedge a chair against the door, I imagine this is just how the Hollywood stars feel when they travel.
The first dream was about biological warfare and terrorism, I guess you'd say. I was in a posse (yes you read that right) and we were feuding with another posse of people about my age. We did something to them (which my subconcious won't let me remember) but, in retribution, the baddies unleashed flesh eating ants in our aviary and the ants only ate the heads of the budgies we were keeping in there. When I discovered what the baddies had done, I raced to the bird cage to find some of our birds still okay, but others had holes where their heads should be. And right across the perches and branches inside the cage were these flesh eating ants, and one massive fluoro blue dragon fly. Weird.
Last night's dream was more mundane, in the sense that it was set at home and I was in my room. I heard a commotion outside, so I split the wooden venetian blinds a little so I could peek outside. Where our little shed is outside was actually an aviary in my dream. I realised at this point in the dream that I was living in the bush, and we had exotic native birds in our cage (lorikeets and stuff). I saw that a thumping great big pink cockatoo had somehow trespassed into the cage and he was giving me the evil eye. Well, the light from my bedroom reflected in his eyeballs making them glow at me. So I went outside to investigate how he got in. When I peeked over the door to the aviary, I could see a dirty human foot stuck around the side. Someone was sitting on the floor of our aviary, with their back against the door. I didn't know who it was so I screamed for Jem, and ran inside to where Mum was in the kitchen. She came dashing out and we arrived just in time to see the dirty kid from next door scaling the back fence. His father was yelling at him for being on our property, and I was yelling at him to never come back to our place again.
Anyone with a degree in dream analysis care to enlighten me?
Try as I might, it is proving impossible to get access to my HOTMAIL account (hot male = hotmail. Get it?!). Sorry that was ultra lame, even for me. But it made you look, right?
If you have sent something to my holiday address in the last week or so, my apologies for not responding. I haven't even read your message, so there.
But I am so grateful to have my internet connection back up again that I can't stay made at my ISP forever. I would kiss the computer if it wasn't a level of perversion with which even I am uncomfortable.
I really need to find a hobby.
In your eyes, people see life... You see yourself
as just an average person! You enjoy life, love
wildlife, but also enjoy time with those who
know you best. You like to get outdoors and let
your mind wander over all of the mysteries god
gave to you. You don't really have a certain
sanctuary because you're so well-rounded, but
you like having fun and adventures, but can
also be found sitting quietly about, reading a
book. You have a pretty good life ahead of you,
never trade it for anything else :)
What Lies Behind Your Eyes? (With Pics, See All Results!)
brought to you by Quizilla
My crossword addiction is not helped by the absence of "Fresh - Cooking with the Australian Womens Weekly" from my screen. In fact, it is being exacerbated by each network's tendency to re-run the biggest load of balderdash I've ever sat through. Where are the quality midday movies? Or where are the midday movies in general?!
Okay I appreciate that Channels 7 and 9 are still basking in the afterglow of summer tennis and cricket screenings. Fair enough. But on behalf of all the overweight couch potatoes out there searching for the remote, I beseech thee: Have Mercy!
And no, I am NOT going to buy Foxtel so quit asking.
This is my second week of holidays and given that we were only able to resurrect our blessed internet connection tonight, I have had to spend the intervening time amusing myself like the colonial pioneers. That's right, I have become addicted to crosswords.
A few years back I experienced a similar fetish for Tetris and I played that to the point of obsession. When I closed my eyes at night, or in the day to be honest, I saw little coloured squares, moving into perfect alignment and creating seamless rows upon rows upon...well, you get the idea.
And so it is with this current love. I close my eyes and I see grids. White squares within which to place letters, interspersed by solid black squares, making definite divisions between the words. Ahh it's all such perfection. It makes the anally retentive geek in me want to twirl on a mountain-top, Julie Andrews style.
But I digress.
Hmm, digress - good Scrabble word and evidence that the crossword addiction is proving a thumbs-up for my vocabulary. Look out world.