Do you remember that episode of Seinfeld where George finds out they'll be moving the Frogger machine that he holds an all-time high score on, thus prompting him to elaborate a ridiculous plan to keep the machine unplugged for as short a time as possible to maintain the memory of the score...?
When I was walking up to Randwick today, I was reminded of that episode. I really realllly wanted there to be music playing in the background. Hah, actually, one of the French people I used to live with said that the sound the green man makes when you cross the road made him feel like he was in a video game:
*booooooo boop boop boop boop*....
But that, of course, is a whole nother story, and a digression to boot.
Behold what I saw in Randwick today:
Obviously it was a lot funnier in person.
When I was walking up to Randwick today, I was reminded of that episode. I really realllly wanted there to be music playing in the background. Hah, actually, one of the French people I used to live with said that the sound the green man makes when you cross the road made him feel like he was in a video game:
*booooooo boop boop boop boop*....
But that, of course, is a whole nother story, and a digression to boot.
Behold what I saw in Randwick today:
Obviously it was a lot funnier in person.
I've never had so much free time before in my life. Well, that's not entirely true because obviously I did in school, and also last year because I didn't do anything for 3 months in the middle of the year. But this is different because not only do I have nothing to do, I have nothing to worry about. I mean, I have plenty of things to worry about, but just at the moment I'm choosing to just sail. It is indeed a new sensation...
I'm unemployed, but it's ok because I have work lined up over the next three months and a few things in the pipeline for next year. I've finished my degree, but it's ok because I'm doing honours next year (if I get in) so I can postpone my panic state about growing up and getting a real job for another year. I've deleted all the music in my iTunes library that I hate and was put there by another person because really, in what universe do I want to listen to stoner ballads and heavy metal? Oh that's right, that universe doesn't exist. It never did.
Doors have opened, some have shut, one in particular I whacked myself in the face with. Sigh.
I've been busy doing absolutely nothing in particular and it feels quite good.
For example, dinner at Angie's, which included leek and pea risotto and a lot of yummy wine..
A new friend, Allens Whitefeet
The fugly Christmas-land at Bondi Junction Westfield. Angie and I thought about getting a photo taken with Santa, and then decided against it...
I am going to make the most of these days.
I'm unemployed, but it's ok because I have work lined up over the next three months and a few things in the pipeline for next year. I've finished my degree, but it's ok because I'm doing honours next year (if I get in) so I can postpone my panic state about growing up and getting a real job for another year. I've deleted all the music in my iTunes library that I hate and was put there by another person because really, in what universe do I want to listen to stoner ballads and heavy metal? Oh that's right, that universe doesn't exist. It never did.
Doors have opened, some have shut, one in particular I whacked myself in the face with. Sigh.
I've been busy doing absolutely nothing in particular and it feels quite good.
For example, dinner at Angie's, which included leek and pea risotto and a lot of yummy wine..
A new friend, Allens Whitefeet
The fugly Christmas-land at Bondi Junction Westfield. Angie and I thought about getting a photo taken with Santa, and then decided against it...
I am going to make the most of these days.
The great thing about winter, apart from the obvious fun involved in rolling around in the snow and sledding down big hills on plastic bags*, sofas**....
...is that when the sun comes out again, the snow has melted, and the sky is blue, it is the best feeling in the world. And it feels like you have earned that bottle of champagne at 8 in the morning.***
*Plastic bags not recommended. I got a rock in my spine and that made me sad.
**The sofa was a favourite of the people who would sled down the ICA slope behind Sernanders 5. Always fun to watch out the kitchen window to see how many people they would fit on it, but nowhere near as fun as watching someone with a shopping trolley full of furniture trying to make it down same icy ICA slope. That, my friends, is indeed a story that should be told in person.
***Not that I'm advocating champagne as an acceptable morning food, but it was Valborg...
...is that when the sun comes out again, the snow has melted, and the sky is blue, it is the best feeling in the world. And it feels like you have earned that bottle of champagne at 8 in the morning.***
*Plastic bags not recommended. I got a rock in my spine and that made me sad.
**The sofa was a favourite of the people who would sled down the ICA slope behind Sernanders 5. Always fun to watch out the kitchen window to see how many people they would fit on it, but nowhere near as fun as watching someone with a shopping trolley full of furniture trying to make it down same icy ICA slope. That, my friends, is indeed a story that should be told in person.
***Not that I'm advocating champagne as an acceptable morning food, but it was Valborg...
New York. I don't think I have drunk so much wine in a long time. Then or since.
Although I recall that the punsch and snapps at the gasque earlier that week almost did me in. I checked my bag in without realising and then spent the next two hours looking for it in a state of rising, but contained panic because my keys were in my bag, my room was locked, and my passport was in my room. I did eventually locate it, though to this day it's unclear how exactly I managed to check it in, since the ticket was in the bag..
In a flash of unusual forethought that night I had set the alarm for the next morning so I could make it to the airport in time, but apparently I'd already had a few drinks by that point, because when I woke up the next morning, feeling extremely fragile, I rushed around like a prickly cat, made it to the station without throwing up, waited for the airport bus, realised I was an hour and a half early, passed out on the bus, and got to the airport in plenty of time only to find that my flight was delayed.
Which meant that later in the day I was that person you see desperately running through the airport terminal trying to make my connecting flight. The thing about Schipol airport is that they make it out to be great for transfers because it's only one terminal, but nowhere do they mention that the terminal is 3km long.
Moral of the story: hang on to your bag and DO NOT fly with KLM. Ever.
Although I recall that the punsch and snapps at the gasque earlier that week almost did me in. I checked my bag in without realising and then spent the next two hours looking for it in a state of rising, but contained panic because my keys were in my bag, my room was locked, and my passport was in my room. I did eventually locate it, though to this day it's unclear how exactly I managed to check it in, since the ticket was in the bag..
In a flash of unusual forethought that night I had set the alarm for the next morning so I could make it to the airport in time, but apparently I'd already had a few drinks by that point, because when I woke up the next morning, feeling extremely fragile, I rushed around like a prickly cat, made it to the station without throwing up, waited for the airport bus, realised I was an hour and a half early, passed out on the bus, and got to the airport in plenty of time only to find that my flight was delayed.
Which meant that later in the day I was that person you see desperately running through the airport terminal trying to make my connecting flight. The thing about Schipol airport is that they make it out to be great for transfers because it's only one terminal, but nowhere do they mention that the terminal is 3km long.
Moral of the story: hang on to your bag and DO NOT fly with KLM. Ever.
I love asparagus, it's extremely delicious, but I'm not entirely convinced about all these fancy leaf things. I read an article in the Herald today about rocket and how its fresh mustardy taste is bold and peppery etc.
Here's the thing..rocket is literally* a bitter weed. The reason it tastes awful is that only animals of cloven hoof, multiple stomach, or your common garden variety bunny are supposed to eat it. The reason why people in the 1600s gathered it to augment their diets was because they had nothing better to eat! Jesus, don't even get me started on capsicum.
It's all a con! Stick to asparagus, briefly blanched, sprinkled with cracked pepper, parmesan, and a squeeze of lemon juice.
*Actually it's not literally a bitter weed, that is a misappropriation of the real definition of "literally."
Here's the thing..rocket is literally* a bitter weed. The reason it tastes awful is that only animals of cloven hoof, multiple stomach, or your common garden variety bunny are supposed to eat it. The reason why people in the 1600s gathered it to augment their diets was because they had nothing better to eat! Jesus, don't even get me started on capsicum.
It's all a con! Stick to asparagus, briefly blanched, sprinkled with cracked pepper, parmesan, and a squeeze of lemon juice.
*Actually it's not literally a bitter weed, that is a misappropriation of the real definition of "literally."
Obviously, lab coats are the coolest outfit of all. Yeesh, put glasses on me as well and I look smarter than David Tennant...mmmn, David Tennant...
*I really wanted to make a nerd joke and call this post "My Immunoglobulin Domain" but I restrained myself because I didn't want people to think that I'm not cool...
*I really wanted to make a nerd joke and call this post "My Immunoglobulin Domain" but I restrained myself because I didn't want people to think that I'm not cool...
I think I am losing my mind. I have been in the library for so very long. More than 100 hours in the last fortnight. And this essay just won't get written. I write and I write and the word count only increases by 20 words per hour. There are so many things outside those doors I could be experiencing right now, so many things on my to-do list that are waiting for me impatiently, so much caffeine and refined sugar coursing through my system right now.
For the love of god, I bought a new MacBook on Tuesday and I have only played with him twice! Poor Franklin, he must be so lonely.
For the love of god, I bought a new MacBook on Tuesday and I have only played with him twice! Poor Franklin, he must be so lonely.
Remember that weekend in Gotland? The one where we cycled 50km* in a day and I thought my ass would never forgive me?
I was thinking back to that weekend, and looking over the photos. Honestly, some places in the world are just so damn amazing that it's impossible to take a bad picture. Actually no, that isn't what I was thinking about, jeebus, I need to get my focus back (but hah, I have so many things to tell you about Soviet cows-- long story).
I was thinking how badly sunburned I got that weekend, so bad that my hands were sort of puffed up and it hurt to move. Well, I got that badly burned again a couple of weeks. It's only now that it looks like a normal bad-tan, still so noticeable that people comment (except that I've been inside the library for pretty much every daylight hour of the last 3 weeks, so NO, I didn't have a nice weekend at the beach), previously my chest was a bright red mess. I'll probably get cancer and I only have myself to blame.
*And I have photographic proof of that 50km, observe:
Exhibit (A). The start of the ride.
Exhibit (B). The point where we turned around, sans the detour we took to Lickershamn. Teehee, that name sounds deliciously naughty ;)
Wear sunscreen.
I was thinking back to that weekend, and looking over the photos. Honestly, some places in the world are just so damn amazing that it's impossible to take a bad picture. Actually no, that isn't what I was thinking about, jeebus, I need to get my focus back (but hah, I have so many things to tell you about Soviet cows-- long story).
I was thinking how badly sunburned I got that weekend, so bad that my hands were sort of puffed up and it hurt to move. Well, I got that badly burned again a couple of weeks. It's only now that it looks like a normal bad-tan, still so noticeable that people comment (except that I've been inside the library for pretty much every daylight hour of the last 3 weeks, so NO, I didn't have a nice weekend at the beach), previously my chest was a bright red mess. I'll probably get cancer and I only have myself to blame.
*And I have photographic proof of that 50km, observe:
Exhibit (A). The start of the ride.
Exhibit (B). The point where we turned around, sans the detour we took to Lickershamn. Teehee, that name sounds deliciously naughty ;)
Wear sunscreen.