Today is Valentines Day. This is awesome.
Because of all the flowers?
The endless facebook status' about love?
The excuse to eat as much chocolate as you like?
The random guy in the shopping centre today who gave me a hug?
The corny cards with teddy bears and puns about flowers?
Photos of couples sharing their life together?
Hell NO!
Valentines day is awesome because its the one day in the year when all radio stations set aside the top 100 they usually play, and turn into "love song dedications". Which in my world means, excellent car sing-along time. All day.
I'm known to occasionally (or not so occasionally) belt out a passion-filled rap or kesha number and dance wildly while still keeping my car on the road.
But my true talent lies within the heart-felt, gut-wrenching ballad that can be sung (read, wailed) at the top of my lungs to my steering wheel.
Today is the day I get to be a star!
Thursday, 14 February 2013
Wednesday, 13 February 2013
Today I Learnt.... Gyms Are For Everyone
This blog was meant to be lighthearted. A casual way of informing others of my day-to-day life and the little things I learn; small and comic. Today, though, I learnt something important, and so this post has a slightly more serious message.
I met up with the superviser of my research project today for lunch. I arrived early, which by the way never happens, and so I sat down outside the cafe to wait for her. While I was waiting I noticed a group of people standing around chatting.
I noticed them for three reasons:
1. They were all wearing the same thing
2. They all had clipboards with pens and paper
and
3. They all had extremely amazing bodies ... except for one of them.
As it turns out they were from a well known gym chain here in Melbourne, trying to promote the gym and sign up people for membership. They all split up and approached people on the street and talked to them. Usually, I'm sure, all eyes would have been on the majority of the group who were so insanely good looking, like elite-athlete-bodies-with-supermodel-faces good looking, it was crazy. Today not so much. My eyes were not on them at all, my eyes were on this one girl who looked nothing like the rest of them.
Why? Because you couldn't help but look at her. She exuded not just happiness but confidence and grace and strength, and well, pretty much every characteristic every woman wants to have. I could actually feel myself smiling when I looked at her. If there was one person that would make me want to sign up to that gym, it would have been her; even though she wasn't particularly fit looking and she was no where close to having that "ideal" body gyms usually promote.
Watching her, luckily along with other people otherwise I could have been considered borderline creepy, I heard her enthusiasm for the gym, exercise in general and living the healthy lifestyle. She mentioned nothing about losing weight and trying to look like the others.
Now, she may just have been very good at her job and actually hate all things exercise related, but I don't care. I would like to congratulate this gym, and all other gyms, who promote people of all kinds; who put all people on their posters, on TV, and in the streets. Fat, thin, tall, short, wide, narrow, male, female, muscled, flabby. Whatever. Firstly, it's a very smart advertising move, because it says they welcome all people and that all people enjoy being there. Secondly, and more importantly, it is sending such an important message; exercise is for everyone.
The gym, and exercise in general, is definitely not about looking a particular way. Its not even about looking good really. It's about feeling good. Feeling stronger, feeling fitter, feeling healthier, feeling thinner, feeling more confident.
Now, this isn't a novel brand spanking new idea. People have told me this for ages! I just never truly believed it until I saw this girl. I have never been, nor will I ever be, a daintly built girl. I could exercise every hour of every day and still not have that small, size 8, body. Knowing this, however, never stopped me from turning up to gym classes, seeing these smaller girls and thinking that if I kept working hard and exercising a tonne, I could look like them.
But I can't. And that girl can't. And most people out there can't. And thats okay.
Because exercising is fun, gym is fun, the people who do it are fun; and it makes me happy. It took me a long time to realise this, but in the end, that's all I need from it.
I met up with the superviser of my research project today for lunch. I arrived early, which by the way never happens, and so I sat down outside the cafe to wait for her. While I was waiting I noticed a group of people standing around chatting.
I noticed them for three reasons:
1. They were all wearing the same thing
2. They all had clipboards with pens and paper
and
3. They all had extremely amazing bodies ... except for one of them.
As it turns out they were from a well known gym chain here in Melbourne, trying to promote the gym and sign up people for membership. They all split up and approached people on the street and talked to them. Usually, I'm sure, all eyes would have been on the majority of the group who were so insanely good looking, like elite-athlete-bodies-with-supermodel-faces good looking, it was crazy. Today not so much. My eyes were not on them at all, my eyes were on this one girl who looked nothing like the rest of them.
Why? Because you couldn't help but look at her. She exuded not just happiness but confidence and grace and strength, and well, pretty much every characteristic every woman wants to have. I could actually feel myself smiling when I looked at her. If there was one person that would make me want to sign up to that gym, it would have been her; even though she wasn't particularly fit looking and she was no where close to having that "ideal" body gyms usually promote.
Watching her, luckily along with other people otherwise I could have been considered borderline creepy, I heard her enthusiasm for the gym, exercise in general and living the healthy lifestyle. She mentioned nothing about losing weight and trying to look like the others.
Now, she may just have been very good at her job and actually hate all things exercise related, but I don't care. I would like to congratulate this gym, and all other gyms, who promote people of all kinds; who put all people on their posters, on TV, and in the streets. Fat, thin, tall, short, wide, narrow, male, female, muscled, flabby. Whatever. Firstly, it's a very smart advertising move, because it says they welcome all people and that all people enjoy being there. Secondly, and more importantly, it is sending such an important message; exercise is for everyone.
The gym, and exercise in general, is definitely not about looking a particular way. Its not even about looking good really. It's about feeling good. Feeling stronger, feeling fitter, feeling healthier, feeling thinner, feeling more confident.
Now, this isn't a novel brand spanking new idea. People have told me this for ages! I just never truly believed it until I saw this girl. I have never been, nor will I ever be, a daintly built girl. I could exercise every hour of every day and still not have that small, size 8, body. Knowing this, however, never stopped me from turning up to gym classes, seeing these smaller girls and thinking that if I kept working hard and exercising a tonne, I could look like them.
But I can't. And that girl can't. And most people out there can't. And thats okay.
Because exercising is fun, gym is fun, the people who do it are fun; and it makes me happy. It took me a long time to realise this, but in the end, that's all I need from it.
Tuesday, 12 February 2013
Today I Learnt..... How To Eat Out Alone
Today I was bored. My mum was working, my brother (now leading a nocturnal life in a typical teenage boy fashion) was sleeping, all my med friends were on placement and all my non-med friends were working. Usually, at times like these, I go for a run. But I already had two and a half hours of exercise planned for the evening, and because I'm trying to moderate my exercise from fanatical down to sustainable I decided, why not go out and eat food instead?
That's right. Eating food. In public. By myself.
I actually do this quite often, and those who know me already know this, but today was different. See, I always pretend to be completely comfortable going out and doing things by myself, but truthfully I'm always just that little bit aware of it. I go to the movies by myself; but I always take my phone and scroll through facebook or text people while I'm sitting in that cinema seat waiting for the lights to dim and the movie to start, careful to avoid the eye contact of others around me. I often get coffee or go out for lunch by myself; but I always bring a book, my ipad, or study stuff so that I can look busy and less alone, hoping no one will notice.
It's silly really, because if I was out having lunch with a group of friends and saw someone eating by themselves I would firstly, probably not even notice, and secondly, if I did notice, I wouldn't think anything of it. So surely, knowing this, I should feel completely comfortable doing the same myself right?
Wrong.
Because in my head I feel people are looking and saying "Look at that girl, by herself, she must be lonely, the poor thing".
But today I forgot my book and my phone went dead. So I went into the resturant, asked for a table for one, ordered a coffee and some food and then just sat there. By myself. Enjoying the atmosphere, the scenery, the people chatting around me, the music.
There were two girls, probably a few years younger than me, having lunch a couple of tables down. Because the resturant wasn't all that loud, I could hear every word of their conversation.
Girl 1: "That girl is here by herself" (talking about me)
Girl 2: (looking over) "Yeh"
Girl 1: "God, I wish I could do that"
Girl 2: "Yeh, me too, I always feel so judged"
Girl 1: "It must be nice to be so confident in yourself you don't care"
Girl 2: "Maybe we should give it a go"
Girl 1: "Yeh, maybe"
That's right. I ate alone and I was respected for it.
Who would have thought?
That's right. Eating food. In public. By myself.
I actually do this quite often, and those who know me already know this, but today was different. See, I always pretend to be completely comfortable going out and doing things by myself, but truthfully I'm always just that little bit aware of it. I go to the movies by myself; but I always take my phone and scroll through facebook or text people while I'm sitting in that cinema seat waiting for the lights to dim and the movie to start, careful to avoid the eye contact of others around me. I often get coffee or go out for lunch by myself; but I always bring a book, my ipad, or study stuff so that I can look busy and less alone, hoping no one will notice.
It's silly really, because if I was out having lunch with a group of friends and saw someone eating by themselves I would firstly, probably not even notice, and secondly, if I did notice, I wouldn't think anything of it. So surely, knowing this, I should feel completely comfortable doing the same myself right?
Wrong.
Because in my head I feel people are looking and saying "Look at that girl, by herself, she must be lonely, the poor thing".
But today I forgot my book and my phone went dead. So I went into the resturant, asked for a table for one, ordered a coffee and some food and then just sat there. By myself. Enjoying the atmosphere, the scenery, the people chatting around me, the music.
There were two girls, probably a few years younger than me, having lunch a couple of tables down. Because the resturant wasn't all that loud, I could hear every word of their conversation.
Girl 1: "That girl is here by herself" (talking about me)
Girl 2: (looking over) "Yeh"
Girl 1: "God, I wish I could do that"
Girl 2: "Yeh, me too, I always feel so judged"
Girl 1: "It must be nice to be so confident in yourself you don't care"
Girl 2: "Maybe we should give it a go"
Girl 1: "Yeh, maybe"
That's right. I ate alone and I was respected for it.
Who would have thought?
Monday, 11 February 2013
Today I Learnt.... What Happens When You Live Out Of Your Car For A Year
I traveled a lot last year, lived between my house out in Trafalgar, my mum's, my dad's, my step mum's and my friend's houses. Also, I'm lazy. What happened because of this? Well, everything I own slowly ended up in my car. As well as most of the soccer pitch.
Now there are many benefits of living out of your car:
1. You always have a change of clothes
2. You never have to worry about not having the right pair of shoes with you
3. You are prepared for pretty much everything minus a nuclear war
and
4. You know where everything is
But there are a few downsides as well, such as losing an incredible amount of socks and your car smelling of the combination of dust + old coffee + feet.
So today I tackled the seemingly impossible task of cleaning my car, inside and out; and I learnt many things.
1. When you let dirt settle for a year it seems to attach itself with surprising strength to the paintwork of your car. Subsquently even though my car is now sparkling I still have my sister's name and "Wash Me" engraved on the back.
2. It's nice to see the original colour of your car return. In my case this colour is "guava" (welcome back you sparkly not-quite-orange-not-quite-pink colour that makes my car so easy to spot in a carpark)
3. I am now rich in coins
4. I consumed a lot of coffee last year
5. I no longer have to go stationery shopping for the year, in fact, I can probably open my own shop
6. I now own way too many socks. Also, there is surprising joy in uncovering socks one at a time, thinking "Oo I think I found the other one in this pair a few minutes ago", searching through your pile of lone socks, finding the one you're looking for, and then reuniting the two.
And
7. Finding long lost objects is like finding gold. (Hello, guitar tuner, how I've missed you!)
So now my car is all clean, my day has been successful and I have learnt many things. Truthfully, though, I miss my messy car with its oh so distinctive smell. Its okay though, I have the whole year to do it all over again.
Now there are many benefits of living out of your car:
1. You always have a change of clothes
2. You never have to worry about not having the right pair of shoes with you
3. You are prepared for pretty much everything minus a nuclear war
and
4. You know where everything is
But there are a few downsides as well, such as losing an incredible amount of socks and your car smelling of the combination of dust + old coffee + feet.
So today I tackled the seemingly impossible task of cleaning my car, inside and out; and I learnt many things.
1. When you let dirt settle for a year it seems to attach itself with surprising strength to the paintwork of your car. Subsquently even though my car is now sparkling I still have my sister's name and "Wash Me" engraved on the back.
2. It's nice to see the original colour of your car return. In my case this colour is "guava" (welcome back you sparkly not-quite-orange-not-quite-pink colour that makes my car so easy to spot in a carpark)
3. I am now rich in coins
4. I consumed a lot of coffee last year
5. I no longer have to go stationery shopping for the year, in fact, I can probably open my own shop
6. I now own way too many socks. Also, there is surprising joy in uncovering socks one at a time, thinking "Oo I think I found the other one in this pair a few minutes ago", searching through your pile of lone socks, finding the one you're looking for, and then reuniting the two.
And
7. Finding long lost objects is like finding gold. (Hello, guitar tuner, how I've missed you!)
So now my car is all clean, my day has been successful and I have learnt many things. Truthfully, though, I miss my messy car with its oh so distinctive smell. Its okay though, I have the whole year to do it all over again.
Saturday, 9 February 2013
Today I Learnt..... Well, Rediscovered..... The Perfect Lunch
Toast + Margarine + Vegemite + Grated Cheese = The perfect lunch
Now, I bet you're wondering what is so good about the simple combination of vegemite and cheese on toast. Surely there are much better lunch options out there right?!
You are indeed right, I can think of many more favourable lunch options.
But cheese and vegemite holds a special place in my heart.
Is it because I had it for lunch nearly everyday of my high school existence?
Is it because it's impossible to spread vegemite without shredding the bread and making a hole in the process?
Or is it because it simply tastes so damn good?
Probably all of the above really. All I know is that I've had this combination for the past three days and it makes me so happy its actually ridiculous. As soon as I bite into the deliciousness that is my lunch I am filled with memories.
The time my tennis partner spent hours over this same breakfast teaching my dad how to plait my hair
The first time I babysat when I was 13 and could only offer the kids this for lunch
How every time I felt sick in the tummy when I was young, vegemite toast was my mums answer, and she was always right
How I literally lived on toast with basic spreads the whole first year I moved out of home
The endless camps I led on, surrounded by people and children who were so hungry from a jam packed day that they ate these sandwiches like they were the best things they've ever had
And most recently, two days ago, spending time with a friend who is the closest friend I've ever had, and realising just how much I've grown over the last few years and how much I've changed.
Memory Food. Making ordinary food extraordinary.
Now, I bet you're wondering what is so good about the simple combination of vegemite and cheese on toast. Surely there are much better lunch options out there right?!
You are indeed right, I can think of many more favourable lunch options.
But cheese and vegemite holds a special place in my heart.
Is it because I had it for lunch nearly everyday of my high school existence?
Is it because it's impossible to spread vegemite without shredding the bread and making a hole in the process?
Or is it because it simply tastes so damn good?
Probably all of the above really. All I know is that I've had this combination for the past three days and it makes me so happy its actually ridiculous. As soon as I bite into the deliciousness that is my lunch I am filled with memories.
The time my tennis partner spent hours over this same breakfast teaching my dad how to plait my hair
The first time I babysat when I was 13 and could only offer the kids this for lunch
How every time I felt sick in the tummy when I was young, vegemite toast was my mums answer, and she was always right
How I literally lived on toast with basic spreads the whole first year I moved out of home
The endless camps I led on, surrounded by people and children who were so hungry from a jam packed day that they ate these sandwiches like they were the best things they've ever had
And most recently, two days ago, spending time with a friend who is the closest friend I've ever had, and realising just how much I've grown over the last few years and how much I've changed.
Memory Food. Making ordinary food extraordinary.
Friday, 8 February 2013
Today I Learnt..... My Potential New LandLord is Definitely Crazy
This actually happened yesterday, but anyway.
In exactly 23 days I'm moving up to Darwin for 10 months, because I had the brilliant brainwave that it would be grand to move to a place thats 36 degrees all year round with 90% humidity. In a typical me kind of way I have yet to organise any form of accomodation, you know, I'm that everything-always-works-out-2-days-is-plenty-of-time-to-book-flights-and-longterm-accomodation person. So after discovering that Darwin is unreasonably expensive and that I was unwilling to compromise on the presence of airconditioning in my future home, I found the perfect place.
3 bedrooms
$170 per week including all bills
airconditioning
fully furnished rooms
on an acre of rainforest
resort style pool
easy access to public transport
close to the university, beach, shops and hospital
So naturally I jumped at the advertisement, emailed the lady immediately, and secured my position in the hosue. I couldn't believe that this house was still available!! The lady told me to call her before coming up to Darwin. So I did, and this was the following conversation:
Lady: (cough, cough, pause, croaky voice) "Ello"
Me: Hi, is this Suzy?
Lady: Yes
Me: Its Bron from Melbourne, you asked me to call about a room?
Lady: Yes
(Long pause)
Me: So I'm calling?
Lady: Yes
(Long pause)
Me: Do you think you'll have a room for me to rent?
Lady: Are you in Darwin?
Me: No, I'm coming up on the 25th of Feb
Lady: Yes you are
(Long pause)
Me: So do you think you'll have a room?
Lady: what day is it today?
Me: Ahhh Thursday
Lady: no, what DAY is it today
Me: (long pause), ahhh the 7th?
Lady: Okay I'll pick you up from the airport
(Hangs up the phone)
Just a few questions ran through my mind:
1. Why is she picking me up from the airport?
2. Does she even have a house for me?
3. How well do I remember my kickboxing?
4. How much would it hurt to jump out of a moving vehicle in case I have to flee?
Now most people would have the sense to tell the Lady they're not interested, but I'm kind of curious to find out just how crazy she truly is. So I will see her on the 25th, get into her car, and rent a room from her for a year.
I'm going to love Darwin if all its people are like her!
In exactly 23 days I'm moving up to Darwin for 10 months, because I had the brilliant brainwave that it would be grand to move to a place thats 36 degrees all year round with 90% humidity. In a typical me kind of way I have yet to organise any form of accomodation, you know, I'm that everything-always-works-out-2-days-is-plenty-of-time-to-book-flights-and-longterm-accomodation person. So after discovering that Darwin is unreasonably expensive and that I was unwilling to compromise on the presence of airconditioning in my future home, I found the perfect place.
3 bedrooms
$170 per week including all bills
airconditioning
fully furnished rooms
on an acre of rainforest
resort style pool
easy access to public transport
close to the university, beach, shops and hospital
So naturally I jumped at the advertisement, emailed the lady immediately, and secured my position in the hosue. I couldn't believe that this house was still available!! The lady told me to call her before coming up to Darwin. So I did, and this was the following conversation:
Lady: (cough, cough, pause, croaky voice) "Ello"
Me: Hi, is this Suzy?
Lady: Yes
Me: Its Bron from Melbourne, you asked me to call about a room?
Lady: Yes
(Long pause)
Me: So I'm calling?
Lady: Yes
(Long pause)
Me: Do you think you'll have a room for me to rent?
Lady: Are you in Darwin?
Me: No, I'm coming up on the 25th of Feb
Lady: Yes you are
(Long pause)
Me: So do you think you'll have a room?
Lady: what day is it today?
Me: Ahhh Thursday
Lady: no, what DAY is it today
Me: (long pause), ahhh the 7th?
Lady: Okay I'll pick you up from the airport
(Hangs up the phone)
Just a few questions ran through my mind:
1. Why is she picking me up from the airport?
2. Does she even have a house for me?
3. How well do I remember my kickboxing?
4. How much would it hurt to jump out of a moving vehicle in case I have to flee?
Now most people would have the sense to tell the Lady they're not interested, but I'm kind of curious to find out just how crazy she truly is. So I will see her on the 25th, get into her car, and rent a room from her for a year.
I'm going to love Darwin if all its people are like her!
Thursday, 7 February 2013
Today I Learnt..... The Resilience of a 6 year old
So I have a 6 year old sister right, and she's crazy about the ocean, so much so that she has joined the local "Little nippers", which is lifesaving for kids.
So we're on a family holiday at the beach and all she wants to do is to swim in the sea with me; but the beach has a danger rating of 7.5/10 and there are no lifesaving flags at this time of year. I look out at the sea and it is rough! The waves are huge and strong and I can see rips all the way from the beach. There are a few people swimming though and they look okay, so I tell my sister that we can go swimming. On a side note, the water is freezing, like "oh-its-actually-not-so-bad-because-im-so-numb-I-can't-feel-anything" kind of cold.
Anyway, we go swimming and its clearly too rough for her; its even too rough for me. About half an hour in, a gigantic wave comes, knocks us flying and dunks me so hard I feel like I've been thrown in a washing machine. I surface, a little worse for wear, but my sister is nowhere to be seen. So I start to panic because I'm suddenly that crazy person who let her Grade 1 sister swim in a dangerous ocean and then lost her. Suddenly she surfaces, like 50m away from me, close to the shore, coughing and spluttering and looking pretty exhausted.
So I swim up to her, trying madly to think of creative ways to make this whole situation okay. I start freaking out that she's going to be scared of the ocean forever and that i've psychologically destroyed her. Finally I reach her, and before I get a chance to comfort her or even say a word, she turns to me with the biggest smile and goes:
"WOW! That was a BIG one, I felt EXACTLY LIKE A BOOGIE BOARD!!!! Are you okay Bronny? Your eyes are a bit red, if you just blink really fast the salt doesn't hurt them anymore. HOW COOL IS THAT!"
And without another word my tiny, 6-year-old, crazy optimistic, sister runs back into the ocean for round two.
I. Love. Kids.
So we're on a family holiday at the beach and all she wants to do is to swim in the sea with me; but the beach has a danger rating of 7.5/10 and there are no lifesaving flags at this time of year. I look out at the sea and it is rough! The waves are huge and strong and I can see rips all the way from the beach. There are a few people swimming though and they look okay, so I tell my sister that we can go swimming. On a side note, the water is freezing, like "oh-its-actually-not-so-bad-because-im-so-numb-I-can't-feel-anything" kind of cold.
Anyway, we go swimming and its clearly too rough for her; its even too rough for me. About half an hour in, a gigantic wave comes, knocks us flying and dunks me so hard I feel like I've been thrown in a washing machine. I surface, a little worse for wear, but my sister is nowhere to be seen. So I start to panic because I'm suddenly that crazy person who let her Grade 1 sister swim in a dangerous ocean and then lost her. Suddenly she surfaces, like 50m away from me, close to the shore, coughing and spluttering and looking pretty exhausted.
So I swim up to her, trying madly to think of creative ways to make this whole situation okay. I start freaking out that she's going to be scared of the ocean forever and that i've psychologically destroyed her. Finally I reach her, and before I get a chance to comfort her or even say a word, she turns to me with the biggest smile and goes:
"WOW! That was a BIG one, I felt EXACTLY LIKE A BOOGIE BOARD!!!! Are you okay Bronny? Your eyes are a bit red, if you just blink really fast the salt doesn't hurt them anymore. HOW COOL IS THAT!"
And without another word my tiny, 6-year-old, crazy optimistic, sister runs back into the ocean for round two.
I. Love. Kids.
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