A good egg

Cadbury Mini Eggs. Have you had these? If not, you're a dead-set silly person. A++ A-mazing, they is.

A bf introduced me to these bad boys when I was living in London. I fell hard and fast (with the eggs). One night he came home and said he'd brought me a surprise (ding! ding! ding!) - opened his backpack and whipped out a bag of mini eggs. What can I say, the boy was smart. We cranked up his Ipod and danced around the lounge room to Hot Chip and Chemical Brothers - his housemates and us - throwing and catching mini eggs in our gobs. Hehe.

Yummy. Get some.

Heart and Mind

I've been following Kina Grannis on YouTube for a while now. She's just released her first album, which has found it's way onto my Ipod. There's no official video yet, but I wanted to share my favourite song, so a gig clip will have to do for now. I love the lyrics...

I write you letters from right to left
See if you have desire yet
To decipher what I said
And learn secrets from my head

It was hard for me to say
Those three words that are so brave
Almost kept them locked away
Deep inside where they'd be safe

Always trying to find
A safer place to hide

Always felt I was protecting my...
Heart and mind
Heart and mind
But it seems like to really feel alive
I cannot hide
My heart and mind

I don't know why I get shy
Tucked away inside my mind
Scared to let someone inside
I sit silent in disguise

Here's her cover of Akon's 'Don't Matter'.

The Kinks vs. Iggy

<3  <3  <3  <3  <3  <3  <3  <3  <3  <3  <3  <3  <3  <3  <3  <3

Iggy Pop... you're doing it wrong (in my humble opinion).


Colorstrology draws a connection between your birthday  and your personal colour. The theory is that a particular hue can balance out certain aspects of your character, bringing out your best. It's an interesting concept...

In any case, it was worth visiting the site for the compliments alone:

The site points out that your birth colour and favourite colour may not be the same. Your birth colour, it says, is your true colour "designed to honour the real you".

If you're interested in colour psychology, I found matchthat.com.au to be worth a visit.

For now, I guess I'm off to find me a crate of oranges. Ooh! Or a can of Fanta. Bag of Sherbies? Terry's Chocolate Orange? This could be fun.

EDIT: Hmm. On hindsight I note that I was told "wearing, meditating or surrounding myself" with Golden Poppy would help. Why is everything in my list edible (with not a carrot or pumpkin in sight!)?

Can not help but smile

My Mum picked these flowers from the garden this morning and put them in my room. She is pretty awesome like that.

An unrelated story - last night I was walking across Pyrmont Bridge, Darling Harbour, when I saw a lady who would have been about 55, wearing some quirky black dress, tights and sparkly heals, with bright, bobbed red hair,  making her way across the bridge on a manual scooter with a basket, which contained a pink feather boa. I could not help but to smile.

She felt like scooting across the bridge in sparkly heals with a feather boa, so she did. I love it.

Happy Sunday <3

Dear John...

Last night I saw 'Dear John' with my friend Kirsten. A modern-day take on the 'Dear John' letter and the experience of love between a soldier and his girl back home - we loved it.

I can't wait to read the book. :)

And here is a letter (genuine, apparently) I found at liberty-ship.com.

"He drives a blue convertable". Way to lessen the blow.


Just saw this on Rage. Heart.


Hmm. Who is going to buy me this military coat from Lucette's Joan of Arc Autumn/Winter 2010 collection?

Brown paper packages tied up with string

I am feeling a little bit blue. So I decided to come and gather some pictures of good things. Raindrops on roses, whiskers on kittens... that type of thing. :)

Bangles from Dinosaur Designs' Goddess collection.

A pink Smeg. Smeg + Pink = Good.

'Karma' bubble bar from Lush - my favourite Lush product. I always have one sitting in my bedroom because it smells so goooood.

Chocolate freckles. Very, very hard to beat these.

John Lennon doing a peace sign.


Play with your food

Don't be silly. 

A few weeks ago I was hankering for a good ol' sugar scrub, but alas the bathroom cupboard was bare.

I googalized 'home-made scrubs' and found care2.com who have a banana scrub recipe that is easy as pie. Way easier actually. Easy as toast.

The site lists a few recipes, including a peach and brown sugar one that I want to try. The appeal of the banana recipe though is that you don't have to have any fancy, posh people ingredients.

It's a bit Neaderthal, I'll admit, but it will leave your skin squeaky clean and soft and this is a great opportunity to throw some food around in the shower. Because I know you've been dying to do that for ages.

I've made it a few times and in the recipe below, I've altered the quantities they originally suggested. The top tip is not to add too much banana because a sloppy scrub maketh not a good exfoliant.


1/3 to 1/2 banana
4-5 tablespoons granulated sugar
¼ teaspoon pure vanilla extract or your favorite essential oil (optional)

Mash ingredients together with a fork into a chunky paste. Yep, that's it.

Enjoy the scrub, and enjoy finding brown bits of banana in your shower the next day!!!


This morning I am going to write about something not in keeping with the usual tone, that is, my drunken night. It's my newspaper, I can write what I like, dammit. Nothing fortunate to be learned here today. In fact, I think my mental capabilities for the day are looking somewhat dim.

Last night started out with sampling a couple of glasses of red (you have to sample the whole glass to get a proper idea of the quality) in the back quarters of the Oak Barrel on Elizabeth Street, my friend Joel's place of work. We moved up the road to the Burdekin, where we took liberties with the complementary bruschetta at the bar, and washed it down with a refreshing beverage. Vodka cranberry for the Miss.

Our group of ten proceeded to the Sydney Taste Festival at Centennial Park, for which we had free tickets, courtesy of Joel. Actually, courtesy of Joel's boss, unbeknownst to Joel's boss. Once there, we swapped our human dollars for 'Crowns'  official festival currency. We felt like we were in Monopoly Land and I strongly approved.

It's called a 'Taste festival', but our consumption was heavily skewed towards alcohol. Food-wise, we swiped lots of free Ferrero's, and then there was the mini pork burger which I swapped my crowns for at the end of the night in desperation. Oh  and some bits of deep-fried prawn, I think they called it 'Fries with Eyes'. I don't even eat prawns, yet there I was popping battered versions, 'eyes and all', as the boys delighted in telling me, several times.

At some point, I was accused of flirting with a Smeg fridge salesman. No, dear friends, I was merely asking the kind man to contrast the price of an average fridge to an amazing Smeg. Why? Well I don't know, do I? I do not seem to be in the market for purchasing a fridge, but it cannot hurt to gather these details, now can it? Okay, so maybe I was trying to get a free fridge. So shoot me!

Such thinking calls for an overview of alcohol consumed. Here's the progression.

Fancy Shiraz  > vodka > whiskey > margarita > absinthe > limoncello > bourbon > tequila > beer > Passion Pop

Notice a pattern?

The one useful thing I did do last night was to cajole Joel into exchanging his last crown for a packet of watercrackers and fancy dip, rather than the shrink-wrapped salmon he actually wanted. "Joel, we're going out, what are we going to do with a salmon?"

As we were being ushered out, my friend Owen and I decided it would be a smart idea to rob the Ferrero stand of its shiny treasures. We loitered  oh we loitered  but sadly that wiley little Ferroro man could not be had.

We departed from the festival, all talking with faux Irish accents (as opposed to talking with our real Irish accents, which we stored away in the name of comedy). I cannot explain why we were doing this. Although we were swigging marshmallow vodka at the same time; I'm not 100% sure, but I think the two might be connected? In any case, we thought we were amazing.

Without any realisation of the time and my train deadline, the five of us who remained paid to get into Spectrum to watch three minutes of some band, only to find ourselves five minutes later sitting in an alley off Oxford Street with a paper-bagged bottle of Passion Pop. Clearly the Taste festival taught us nothing and there is no hope for us whatsoever.

It was around this time, with the fruity overtones of Passion Pop dancing in my mouth, that I decided it was time to pack up and hit the trains.

The day is early, the air is crisp, the head is cloudy. I sit here pondering what hangover-cure delights I shall invest in today.It may be too late to save me today  but guess what  St. Patrick's Day on Wednesday! At least the accent is sorted. Ho ho ho.

Nobody here but us servantless Australian cooks

J'ai fait une omelette française!

(I made a French omelette!)

More about that in a minute.

Have you seen the film Julie & Julia? Meryl Streep is brilliant and hilarious playing the part of Julia Child, well-known chef and cookbook writer. Julia's story, set in Paris, is juxtoposed with the narrative of a thirty year old American woman named Julie, who decides to cook her way through Julia's French cookbook forty years after its publication, blogging her journey along the way. I won't spoil the ending, but the film - based on two true stories -  is a funny and inspiring tale about two women who took some steps towards their dreams and then, voila!

I loved the movie - in fact, I watched it twice within two days.

Well, here we are, 8.34 am on the 11th of March 2010 - Julia's influence soldiers on in spirit, and I must get back to my omelette story. A couple of days ago I youtubed the real Julia Childs and watched a clip about making the traditional French dish. Here it is.


I have made a few omelettes in my time, but not like this. There are three secrets. First: a very hot pan. Second: committment to agitation. And third: The Flip. Did you know, if you grasp the handle 'just so', you can flip the omelette to your will, somersaulting over upon itself into a neat 'omeletty' shape on the plate?

Taste wise, I have to confess there are other things higher on my breakfast list. But that's not the point. My point is that my eyes actually lit up as I saw The Flip. I still need a little practise. Scrambled eggs, though? I am modest about a few things but not about this. I happen to be one of Australia's most talented scrambled egg chefs. There, I said it.

Apprécier vos oeufs! 


Sound of rain on the window pain
Makes a mighty sweet and soft refrain
But I never found a sound as sweet
As the tippity tippity tap of happy feet

-Dean Martin-

I'm going to spend five minutes talking about my boots.

Here in Sydney the weather has just started to get a little cooler. I do enjoy that first autumn day when you get out of bed and there's a distinct chill in the air. Just fresh enough so that having your uggs chaperone you to breakfast becomes both seasonally and socially acceptable.

Today is not a typically nice day, weather wise. It's overcast, chilly and windy - I don't mind though because I'm inside writing an essay (yes, I am actually writing it, just having a break). As I mentioned though, the otherwise crappy day is OK because of my boots.

Each time I get a new pair of uggs I always end up wearing them outside at some point. But I'm going to try and keep this particular pair pure, so, you know, if the need arises (spiders, etc.) I can jump up on my white bedspread, fully booted.

If you like my boots,  they are called 'Grosby Hoodies for Your Feet', and you can find a replica at Big W.

Can't Operate (fired up)

2.59am and the girl can't sleep. >>> Ladyhawke.


L a t e   n i g h t
 waiting by the phone
waiting for an answer.
Heartbeat, drumming double time
I need one more chance to be near you

Still hanging on (for what?)
Can’t operate (fired up)
I won’t eat and I won't sleep for you yeah
No rest till I (get through)
'Coz I’m holding out (for you)
Am I the only one who’s insane?

Hey - you're playing with my d e l i r i u m
And the longer I wait the harder I’m gonna fall
Stop playing with my delirium
'Coz I’m outta my head and outta my self control

* * *

Harassing people into picking up rubbish since '09

Sign up online, and put aside an hour or two on Sunday to give our country some TLC.

Think of it as a hunt - in preparation for the Easter Bunny.

The Power is Yours


Clean Up Australia Day / Sunday 7th March 2010

Being proactive to reduce the rubbish on our landscape and in our waterways reduces hazards to wild animals - many of which are already threatened. We wouldn't like it if a stranger came and threw rubbish all over our home and made us sick - this is their home, let's show some respect.

It is our home too. Clean Up is one way to take care of the aesthetic aspects of the land, from which we take much pride and enjoyment. The land gives us life, so give some back.

Secret Creek

Two weeks ago I boarded a coach with a group of fellow uni students for a 3-day Ecology field trip at the Blue Mountains. One of the highlights of our trip was a night visit to Secret Creek.

Secret Creek is located a short distance from the centre of Lithgow. If you're interested in an outing with a difference, I would highly recommend this experience.

Secret Creek is a tranquil idyll set amongst the trees. The sanctuary was set up in 2004 as an endangered species breeding program. Ten acres of bushland house an array of endangered native species.

Upon our arrival we were ushered into an old logged cabin, which, once the owner's house, has been converted in a restaurant. Stunning food and great service to match.

After choosing from the menu we were taken on a dusk tour to meet the free-range residents, who were busy going about their nocturnal business. From potoroos to  curlews (I fell in love with a curlew- we shared a moment) and spotted quolls (below) - it was such an amazing experience to see these strange creatures for the first time. If you visit, consider adding a guided walk for the cost of $15.

Trevor - the owner and breeder at Secret Creek - is doing a tremendous job with the program he initiated after his previous life as a miner of 20 years. A friendly, personable, delicious and inspirational experience - stamp this one on your To Do list!