Yoghurt, lime and poppy seed cake actually

Yesterday morning I had cake for breakfast. This morning I also had cake for breakfast. Don't you just love Christmas? It's just a shame that I've now eaten all the cake.

Small mercies

You know, Christmas is a dangerous time of year for some of us. Well, for those of us who do not possess an off-button. Thankfully this year I am mercifully free of work related Christmas parties (what with quitting my job and all), so the chances of wanting to die the next morning should be occurring a good deal less often than in years past. So why would I want to die the morning after? Because if anyone is going to get hideously drunk at a work related function it will be me.

Example:
At my last job (actually, the one before last) I attended the Christmas party and accidentally got horribly drunk. My workmate had vowed to stay by my side all night but was called away briefly. Five minutes later, when she returned, I was talking to the Chair of the Board. An Emminent Scientist and Very Important Man. She said it was actually quite amusing in a train wreck kind of way. He was talking to me (more like talking at me) very earnestly (and at great length) about being Catholic because he somehow connected that to my uni studies. I had my face all screwed up and I was doing my very best to understand him, but really, it was no use, I was just too drunk. By the time she realised how bad the situation was and came over to pry me way from him, I raised my head, stood up straight and issued forth my most famous (and loudest) comment to date - "anyone who thinks that is a complete twat". Once again, I am the entertainment.

Like a cross between Marilyn Monroe, Courtney Love and Paris Hilton

We also had dinner with the Vice-President of Logic on Sunday night and I shocked to discover that he had no idea who Anna Nicole Smith was. The more we tried to explain who/what she was, the more insane it actually sounded. I had a bizarre moment of thinking that we were all having a group hallucination and the the VP of Logic was the only one who wasn't affected.

A happy afternoon

On Sunday we took the plunge and visited the toy shop for a bit of Christmas shopping for the kids on our list. Which sounds far more serious than it really was, I mean, we only have three kids on the list. Not having been to a toy store for a while, I was excited to stumble on Viewfinders. Now cast your minds back to your youth - did you have viewfinder? They're like little binocular type things and you slide in these little cardboard disks with colour pictures. When you look through the eye-pieces, hey presto, you get a 3D colour image. You then click the little lever and it goes to the next little image. And best of all, no batteries required.

So I got all excited and was secretly planning to buy my own as I used to love mine as a child. But I didn't have to. Handsomest assured me that my old viewfinder was still at the back of the cupboard. Sure enough, there it was and even better, the box still contained my old slides I had as a child. I had MASH, Welcome Back Kotter, The Wiz, Annie, one about prehistoric life, Snow White and the seven dwarfs and a few others that escape my mind right now. I even still had the little black and white booklets that came with the slides.

Oh, what a happy afternoon I had.

Why Laziest Girl will never be British*

I know you might find it difficult to believe, but beauracy makes me cranky. Ok, cranky is probably an understatement, feral is probably more accurate. Today I have spent nearly 90 minutes standing in line waiting to deal with beauracy. And I don't want to do this - I don't want to be this person who has to stand in line.

But the good news is that I finally have a valid passport so I will now let go of all this anger and frustration that is blocking my qi energy. Well, overpowering my qi energy and, frankly, screwing with my aura to boot.

* Because I'm not good at queues, and queueing is the national sport of choice for most Britons.

Why the Australian Passport Office suck.

So the fecking passport saga continues. Damn, how hard could it be? I applied for a new passport and duly sent away the application and the requisite number of photos (in which I look about 50 because smiling is not allowed). About two weeks later they ring me to say that the photos got damaged somehow and I need to send in more.

So I get more photos, post them to my guarantor (who signs the back of them to say it's really me in the hideous photo), she sends them back to me and I send them on to the passport office with the required form signed in triplicate.

Yesterday I get a card from the post office saying that I have registered mail to collect - excellent think I - that'll be my passport. Plans are laid for the collection of the passport from the post office this afternoon as I need to send a photocopy off to Japan asap for my visa application.

And this morning the passport office call me to say that they have used the damaged photos in my passport and can I please return it to them for re-issue. ARGGGGGHHHHHHHH.

I explain, in measured tones, why this is going to be a problem and they promise to only take one working day to re-issue the damn thing but I've still got to traipse over there Friday morning by 8.30am to drop it off. And then go back over there on Monday morning to pick it up. And it is so fecking hot.

Damn you passport office, damn you.

And after all that drivel

I totally forgot to tell you all that my brother-in-law rocks. As a belated birthday gift he sent me, not only a lovely silver pendant, but also a copy of American Astronaut on DVD. This is the best movie that I've seen all year. Seriously. I really can't stress that enough - the best.

I saw it both times that it was shown at the Globe and the first time I was a bit mystified, but the second time I was in love. I watched it for the third time on Saturday and throughout the film I kept thinking "this is my favourite bit" and then two minutes later, "oh, this is my favourite bit". I've come to the conclusion that the whole film is my favourite bit.

Even if you usually do not pay the slightest bit of attention to anything I say, I beg of you, watch this film (at least twice).

Nowhere near a real film review

I also went and saw Domino on the weekend with Jammin' J. I quite liked parts of it but it seemed a bit like the editor was doing crack in the editing suite. It kept jumping around which was a bit frustrating especially as the plot was overly complicated. Although some bits were just fantastic - like the part where Lateesha goes on Jerry Springer.

And I got really cross because the people sitting behind us had brought their two little girls, maybe 6 and 8, to see the film. I was actually pretty shocked that these people had no problem with children this age seeing the film. I mean, it wasn't terribly gory but parts of it would be traumatic for a little kid (like when they used a shotgun to remove a guys arm). Why didn't they just leave them at home unattended with a copy of Reservoir Dogs to entertain them?

Other Japan related nonsense

Today at lunch time I met my friend Nell and we went to look at new glasses for yours truly. My health insurance company cover me for a new pair of glasses each calendar year and as my current glasses were bought in November last year, I've got about three more weeks to get a new pair to be able to claim back the cost. I know this seems a little mad, but I'll need to take a spare pair of glasses to Japan with me and I don't actually have a spare pair. Somehow I managed to lose the blue pair that I had before my current pair (which are dark red) so I am a one pair of glasses gal. I've also made a time to get my eyes re-tested so I can get new lenses in my current frames.

Anyway, the point of all this is that Nell and I went to the shop looking for new frames. Because I wear glasses all the time (except when I'm asleep), I've got pretty stringent standards that need to be met. In fact, I found myself sounding like fecking Goldilocks. No, frames too big. No, frames too small. No, frames too heavy. No, frames too light. No, frames to nana-ish. No, frames too 80's. No, frames too bendy. Ahh, frames just right. Yep, about the 300th pair I tried on were just right. They are a kind of bronze colour and look pretty much the same as my current glasses. But I'm relieved because it's so hard to choose glasses - especially when you have to look at them two million times a day.

I went to the doctor and bought a polio vaccination

So I went to the doctor on Saturday and apparently my blood is still crap. Better than it was, but still pretty crappy. So I have to take the iron tablets for another three months or start eating red meat (which is not going to happen).

I also talked to the doctor about vaccinations for Japan and as I couldn't remember when I'd been vaccinated for polio, we did it while I was there. Sounds impressive doesn't it? Actually you just get two drops of this pink, salty stuff on your tongue and then you are done. And because I'm thinking of going to Vietnam and Cambodia in February for three weeks, I need to get vaccinations for everything under the damn sun. Hep A, Hep B, Cholera, Typhoid and something else that I can't remember. I'm really keen on the trip, just not so keen on the vaccinations required beforehand.

I've come to take (a nice, sterile test tube of) your BLOOOOOD!!!

So I've been taking those damn iron tablets for over three months now and the guy in the white coat (well, its a metaphorical white coat - not an actual white coat) has demanded that I give another guy (in an actual white coat) about three tubes of my lifeblood to play with so they can see if my iron levels have improved.

Of course, the test was due at the end of November but I didn't procrastinate for my country for nothing. Finally, on Tuesday, I managed to drag my sorry arse down to the blood letting place of horror. I don't like it there, I don't like there at all.

At this point you probably need to know that I am such a wuss that I actually have to lie down when they take blood. Thankfully, the man was nice about it and believed me when I told him that if he used one of those horrible vacutainer things, I'd get a huge bruise on my arm. So he used a tiny, little needle and a little plastic tube which slowly drained into the test tubes. When he was done, he even found a roll of the hypo-allergenic tape to stick the little cotton ball in place.

I was so proud of myself for not crying.

And, sometimes, things just fall into place don't they?

Yesterday I went to a job interview and today I've been offered a job teaching english in Japan starting in April next year. How exciting is that? Answer: Very exciting indeed.

I'll be teaching 4-12 year olds at a cram school in Takasaki which is about 100klms north-west of Tokyo. The school I'll be teaching is a small school with only three or four english language teachers. They arrange somewhere to live and the visa stuff so all I need to do is turn up!

So in a mere four months I'll be blogging from Japan! Are you excited yet?

Sometimes I wish I wrote restaurant reviews for a living

We went to a terrible restaurant for dinner on Saturday night. So, you ask, what constitutes a terrible restaurant in the Land of Laziest? Well, let me fill you in.

Firstly we nearly died of dehydration whilst waiting for our cocktails to arrive (and, I might add, they had a pathetic cocktail menu - no capiroshkas). They made the drinks and they were sitting on the bar for ages waiting for someone to bring them over but I could practically see the ice melting as they sat there. Eventually, Jammin' J went on a search and retrieve mission to the bar only to be told by the bar guy that she couldn't take them because the waiter would bring them over. When the elusive waiter finally brings them over - we discover that they are not even worth the wait and are, in fact, a pitiful reproduction of the perfect Mojito.

Secondly, there was nothing on the menu that did not contain dead animal in some form or another. I know I'm fussy but it's not that hard to have a least one vegetarian meal is it? In the end I got a plate of grilled vegetables drowning in olive oil that cost $35 bucks. Have these people not heard of a balanced meal? Or is this some new kind of fancy protein-free diet? My only consolation at this point was that at least I won't get scurvy.

And thirdly, when we got the bill, not only did they overcharge us for our drinks (and then proceeded to argue with Jammin' J when she asked for the bill to be corrected), but they charged us for a meal that didn't even arrive.

I know I have high expectations, but it had to be the most apalling dining experience I have had in a very long time.

Trivia Tuesday - finally I win - and I reveal the truth about my feelings for Hugh Laurie

Every Tuesday CK posts a trivia question over at the Fount and every Tuesday my sense of self worth deflates because I don't know the answer.

But this week the cosmic forces conspired and inspired CK (isn't that a great phrase? conspired and inspired - I just love it) to post a question that I knew the answer to. I'm telling you this, not just to brag, but to because I need to share an email conversation that CK and I had. In essence, CK did not realise that Hugh Laurie was dead sexy as Dr Greg House. I mean, honestly, how could he not know - that brooding air, those piercing blue eyes, the biting wit, that whole I don't shave every day thing. Really, I just adore him.

Cleary CK is living in a media-resistance bubble as there has been much publicity regarding Mr Laurie's attractiveness as well as his natural tendency to moroseness (which is surely a media beat up). Not only is Mr Laurie a very talented actor and the thinking women's pinup, he is also a published author. If you haven't had a chance to read "The Gun Seller", I suggest that you acquire a copy for perusal post haste. It's not brilliant, but it is a very enjoyable read.

He's such a clever man.

Laziest Voyeur

My new job is located back in the CBD of BrisVegas and I've got to say that I am loving the view. By some freak of beauracy, I've ended up with a much sought after window seat. For those of you familiar with Brisbane, from my window I can see the Brisbane River on the left (the stretch between QPAC and the William Jolly Bridge), all the way up George Street to Roma St Station and on the right I can see as far as the Hilton.

But the dominant building (if, when facing my computer, I turn my head to the left) is a snazzy new apartment building on the next block. Even as I type this, I'm gazing out the window and watching people on their balconies. I just sit here and wonder who these people are and what their lives are like and why the people in that unit there have three mountain bikes on their balcony. There is also an apartment with a little kid in it and he keeps running out to look over the balcony then his mother comes out and drags him back inside. I can even see the lap pool from here, and I've got to say that most of the people who use it, have an appalling stroke. At least half of them look like they are actually drowning not swimming laps. It's positively Un-Australian.