spotty/dotty.

Ok. I wasn't going to talk about this here. I've been going to some pretty great pains to hide it in real life, so why publicise it on the internet? Also, there is my fear of being judged (issue #36 'fear of judgement': see also: being teased in year 8 for showering daily in the evening not the morning) and willed back to the dark ages with the lepers and the people with bad teeth. But then I thought, well, maybe people aren't as judgy as I think, and anyway this blog is about my life, and for better or worse, this unfortunate issue is taking up a disproportionate amount of my attention at the moment. Whether or not it's nuts, I fully feel that when I look back in the future on this period of my life, this episode will serve as a reference point, so completely OCD am I getting about the whole thing. And, you know, it's a little bit funny and maybe other people have had the same embarassing experience. So here it is:

Today is the one week anniversary of my brand new Gigantapimple^TM.

(don't worry: no gory details to follow)

It started out as an innocuous tiny lump in my neck. You couldn't see it, but you could feel it, and after 6 months of it being there, I began to worry that maybe I was dying of cancer or goiter or something else BAD (issue #57 'fear of death': see also: irrational terror of mammals in case they bite and infect me with rabies). So when I went to the doctor I asked her about it. And it was all downhill from there. She got her stinking mits on it and it blossomed into the Gigantapimple^TM that I am sporting now. It. Is. HUGE. I'm talking at least 2cm in diameter. It is ginormous to the point that I've actually gotten a stiff neck because it hurts to move my head in various directions. I've done everything I can think of to get rid of it (including messaging my Friendly Neighbourhood Pharmacist), but apparently a blemish this big defies medical/cosmetic science. I think I'm just going to have to sit this one out. At least it's not actually that gross. Just really really large.

So if you see me over the next few days/weeks/months sporting a scarf and a side ponytail in 30 degree weather, it's not a hickey, and it's not that the French lessons are beginning to affect my wardrobe. It's the GigantapimpleTM.

But hey, if it never goes away, I can run off and become a circus freak. At least that will solve issue #77 'fear of not finding a meaningful career' (see also: arts and music degrees).

empowered.

Happy International Women's Day everyone! May you all have elegant and intelligent women in your lives! Give them all a hug today!

unable move my neck without it hurting.

Yesterday I went to the doctor - a new doctor - for a checkup. Nothing drastic: don't worry I'm not marching towards death any faster than usual, and I'll spare you the gory details.

However. I will share with you one thing that the doctor said to me - one thing that I hope none of you ever have to hear:

"Wow! You've got a really high pain threshold!".

I still can't believe she let that one slip. Actually she's wrong. I think what I have is a high politeness-under-pressure threshold.

at work.

My building is being painted at the moment, and this temporary sign appeared a few floors below me. It's not hard to guess where I work, hey.

I should try and get a shot of the (permanent) sign that directs what to do in case of emergency - for one's own "safety".

clucky?

It's weird. I don't really like babies very much. I'm certainly not in the market for one. Yet I can't seem to stop myself from reading parenting blogs. Maybe it's just that babies provide amusing subject matter - lots of poos and wees, and we all know how funny they can be. Or maybe it's that when you're far enough away that you can't actually smell the poos and wees they're kinda cute. Or maybe it's just that stay at home parents have more time to dedicate to perfecting their entries. Or maybe it's that we can all relate to being a little kid. I don't know. A couple of my favourite are already in the links section (Dooce, jmadigan.net, Laid Off Dad, The Trixie Update), but here are a few others that I love, in case you're crazy like me.

Sweet Juniper
Breed 'Em And Weep
Suburban Bliss
Finslippy

deflated.

I had another failed cooking weekend.

On Friday I made three new recipes out of my favourite favourite Philip Johnson cookbooks. I love these books as everything I've ever made from them has been absolutely superb and I thought it was the world's only infallible cookbook. Until now.

I first made a tomato and porcini mushroom soup that ended up as not 'Ooh YAY soup for dinner again!' but rather 'Oh. Soup again. Do we have to finish it?'. The recipe specified 75g of dried porcini mushrooms which is over $30 worth. I used about half of that (still pretty extravagant) and put some fresh swiss browns in too. The result was an overly pungent mushroom soup that was not nice. I think even 40g of porcini was way too much.

The second thing I made was fudge. Hard to stuff that up, right? Wrong. It said to simmer the mixture for 15 minutes until it started to change colour and then to press into a tray to cool and harden. I began to think maybe things weren't right when the mixture after 15 minutes was still the consistency of water - pretty hard to press that into a tray! In the end I boiled it for 45 minutes until it went the colour of chocolate. Aha! Finally I've managed to go too far I thought, but poured it onto the tray anyway, just to see. It turned out that it (amazingly) wasn't burnt, and was the consistency of Russian Toffee rather than fudge. It tasted ok actually, but I still count this a failure. I was aiming for fudge, which was not what I got, and if I'd wanted Russian Toffee I would've made Russian Toffee and it would've been better than what I ended up with.

The third thing I made was a flourless pineapple and coconut cake. It browned within 10 minutes in the oven, and after the allocated cooking time was still undercooked in the centre. That could be my oven though. I count this as a failure too, because I didn't like the cake much. But I detest dessicated coconut, so that explains that. Everyone else seemed to like it, but it certainly wasn't over the moon amazing like Mr Johnson's other recipes. Grrr.

So not only did I have a bad cooking Friday, I have lost faith in my favouite cookbook. Cry!

On Sunday, I tried again. I made Mughlai Chicken from Nigella's 'Feast'. This came highly recommended from Mag. I don't know what went wrong, but it was bland and boring. I won't be cooking it again. What a shame. I also made Thai black rice to go with it after seeing it in a shop and getting excited by black rice. It was ok, but it turns out it's really more a dessert rice. Also, it stains things maroon. It was an interesting experiment, but I think I'll be sticking with regular white or brown rice from now on.

pulling a face.

I am not a grapefruit person. You know how lots of people have a grapefruit for breakfast, and insist that it's the ONLY way to start the day? Well, I've tried before and failed, but then someone told me you have to sprinkle them with sugar the night before so it all soaks up by morning. So a little while ago I bought a lovely big ripe ruby red grapefruit from the markets, took it home, duly sprinkled it with sugar, but the next morning when I tried to eat it, it was still sour. And bitter. And hard to eat with a teaspoon - I pretty much just ended up with spoonfuls of juice. And so I conclude: I am categorically not a grapefruit person. I'm just glad I'm not Italian - those guys love bitter sour things.