Random things

Whilst deciding which files will survive my laptop reformatting, I came across these little pieces of photographic nostalgia.

A view of the Gold Coast from the Q1 with KG.

Riga, from PVDB's trip.


Me and my two little munchkin friends, who are now married (!!!). Tioman in 2005. On the hellish bus ride to the jetty, I sat by an ulamah who screamed his head off because I wearing a sleeveless tee and three quarter pants. Seriously.


The same trip. Brocolli island in the distance as we do a G-rated moon.

On a 3 day, 2 night liveaboard on the Great Barrier Reef in 2006, earning my diving licence. Photo taken by X. Note ridiculously tall Dutch people in surrounds.

One of my most favourite photos ever. The lick was unexpected and very welcome. Singapore 2006 with KJ.

Sigh. The new wing of MidValley. I miss the gigantic centres of mass consumption. And European high street brands.

Pavilion, all shiny and new. Let's hope their management checks for reindeer testicles for this Christmas' decorations.

My French class on the last day of the last term.

The roost is currently ruled by Emperor Moe, as SK, our flatmate has returned to Slovenia. Moe is a bit of an arsehole, but we love him to bits anyway. He alternates between shredding my arm for no apparent reason to acting like a tempura prawn.

"Hi! I'm a cute kitty! Please disregard the fact I just scratched you, left fur all over your fingers so you couldn't use your iPod Touch, constantly interrupt you by sitting on whatever you're doing and then bit you... and feed me. And clean my poo."

"No? Imma seal! How can you resist a cute little furry seal?"

Damn You Auto Correct

This site should be spread generously. Like love and peanut butter.

Sunny Coast

We were invited to spend a few days in Bundaberg where it was apparently turtle-hatching season, but a miscommunication (i.e. they left their phone at home) led to a slight change in plans.

We headed to the Glasshouse Mountains first.

Bluer than blueberries


Weird wormy looking patterns on a tree

My favourite photo of the lot

The weather was ridiculously sticky and hot. We wound up driving around in minimal clothing. We took the advice of a tour guide and headed along the scenic route through to Montville, Mapleton and Maleny. These were very lovely, quaint tourist-friendly towns. Very Dandenong Ranges-ish.

The Mary Cairncross Park was a well worth the drive.

C under a magnificent, centuries-old strangler fig.

Dreamily floaty fungi all along a fallen log

Mushroom clusters tucked into the tree buttress

The roots look very much like a serpentine tongue, no?

Stink bug

More mushies

The rear end of a pademelon, a kind of marsupial. Very adorable. We sighted a family of three and three others separately.

We then drove through Bli Bli (yes, that's the name of a real town. There's even one called Obi Obi, but I couldn't be bothered making such an enormous detour) to get to the coastal towns. We settled at renting a room for AUD56 at Sunshine Beach. Fortunately enough, no one else took the other room so we got the entire house to ourselves. It was no Hyatt but it sure beat sleeping in the car.

Whilst I do live near the Broadwater, there is something so soothing, so comforting about sand between my toes, the waves gently lapping at my ankles and the seemingly infinite vastness of the ocean. It was very nice to wake up to a stroll on the beach.

After a rather uneventful dinner at Pizza Capers (nice meal ruined by a rather lookatmelookatme roach, duly squashed by C's boot), we took the long way to the famed Hastings St (i.e. we got lost). The conversation makes a lot more sense if you remember I was driving in the dark.

Jan: Why is the light flashing?

C: *totally nonchalant* I think because the bridge is up to let the ferries through.

Jan: WHY ARE THERE FERRIES HERE?

Anyway. It was my bad. I had assumed the beachfront area would be called The Esplanade like all the other touristy coastal towns (Cairns, Gold Coast, Caloundra), but the GPS led us to bloody North Shore instead.

After strolling up and down the lovely street, admiring things we couldn't afford, we settled down at Santi's for a drink. His James Squire beer and my hot chocolate in the foreground.

The next day was blessedly enough, a Wednesday. I had wanted to go to the Eumundi Markets for ages, in spite of lacklustre reviews.

It was AWESOME. Loads of interesting, one-off items and food, glorious food.

Freshly fermenting ginger beer, yum.

Ridiculously expensive pancakes (AUD8 for 12). Yum.

Cool stall with interesting plants. They had loads of carnivorous plants too, the sort you read about on the National Geographic - sundews, the Venus Flytrap, pitcher plants, all surprisingly tiny, their legends having morphed into larger than life monsters in my fertile imagination.

Yummy German sausage in background and fried Tibetan momos, another item crossed off my list

How do roses thrive in 28C heat?

We went through Mooloolaba and Caloundra on our way back, even stopping for a quick dip. And then off we were again, to Bribie Island. Which was like a Manly (Sydney, not Brisbane), but much further away. It was quite strange to see land from a western shore - I've never stepped foot on Western Australia.

The Seaside Museum

The trip ended with roast chicken eaten with fingers and strawberry ice cream on cheap cones. C gets extra bonus points for being sweet and patient and not maiming anyone with me (having part of your thumb grated off is surprisingly debilitating).

Ne pas s'oublier sans rien dire

Oh, and C got a car!

At the Eddie Kornhauser park with C, just before his dad's birthday party. Our Star Wars card (A long, long time ago... *cue theme music* You were born.) was well-received.

Boofta the Poofter - his nose always up someone's skirt.

After a sleepless night on my part, C and I set off to Byron Bay to do the usual boring touristy thing. But first a stop at the local op shop so I didn't look ridiculously overdressed in a hippy town (ombre size 10 skirt worn as a dress, with a child's belt). I hadn't been up Cape Byron for ages though. The downpour had us scurrying down the hill, soaked.


3 hours of sleep, 1 hour of watching C dozing peacefully, admiring his tenacity to sleep through trucks, traffic and noisy neighbours, lawn mowers and the cat playing hopcrotch and I was up at 6am for a 2 hour long walk.

I think it's an egret.

Moe rests on the power supply box. Then awoke our guest late at night by placing a curious paw on his head. And us, via hopcrotch.

I needed a haircut, so Aunty Lil made an outing of it. We headed to this Korean place in Sunnybank Plaza. And I then remembered why I hate going to Asian hairdressers.

Jan: Well can you keep the length, but thin it a little? Also, the back keeps tangling...

Hairdresser: ?

Jan: I mean, don't make it too short, but layer it maybe? Just get rid of the tangled bits.

Hairdresser: ?

Jan: ... nevermind. Just do it like that lady beside me.

It turned out very similar to Ramona Flowers' hairstyle, which was a blessing since C and I are massive fans of Scott Pilgrim vs. The World (how can anyone not fall in love with Michael Cera?).

Aunty Lil's creepy foot growth, which moves. Like a movie prop from a B grade movie.

Our foray with the slow cooker was a success! Beef ribs and vegetables.

Rabbit dropping cake. I kid. The recipe called for 2 punnets of blueberries. At AUD7.99 each, I was about to call it quits but we spotted this wonderous invention known to the common world as canned fruit, at a fraction of the price.

A lovely little nook nearby with very decent AUD5 weekend breakfasts (sausage, bacon, tomato, mushooms, toast and egg) and cheap drinks. I'm too selfish to publicise the location though, so email me if you want to know where it is.

Christmas decorations all up already.

A mishap with the Very Awesome Grater. C has officially forbidden me from all kitchen appliances involving sharp blades. Fortunately, the removed epidermis did not fall into the grated cheese but stuck firmly to the blade (unlike the Salad Incident '02). The wound is fairly sizeable and a bit of a bleeder. Brushing one's teeth left-handedly is a nightmare.

The other day at Robina

I was observing some fake moles at a novelty shop. These came with hairs on them, not unlike the one on my brother's face, which I fear mine may morph into.

Someone then stroked my hair.

Now, C is very much a cat person and therefore has a habit of stroking my head and scratching me behind the ears. I have long learnt to stop taking offense at this and instead accept the fact that there will come a day, when he kisses the cat and pats me on the head.

ANYWAY. I turn around and this old lady is standing there, with an expression of utter horror, her hand still frozen in the air. Her grandson stood obliviously nearby. "I'm so sorry! Your hair looked too nice to be real! I thought it was a wig and I was going to pull it off!"

At this I looked around, wondering if I had unwittingly placed myself in the wig section. This is a novelty shop, after all. Nope, no wigs.

I suddenly recalled the time I was 12, innocently checking out some books at the PJ Big Bookshop when someone hugged me from behind. Like full body hug. Then a kiss on the head. You should have seen the guy's face when I turned out not to be his girlfriend.

"That's okay. It happens to me more often than you think."

The plastic stick in my arm

Okay girls and boys, today we talk business: birth control. Whilst we will not speak of the act that necessitates the procedure, I shall talk you through my experience with Implanon.

After a bit of research, I decided upon it because:

a) It's the most cost effective: AUD290 for 3 years, with AUD130 reimbursed by Medicare.
b) No other steps necessary: Most oral contraceptives need to be taken daily, in a timely fashion.
c) Has 0.02% chance of failure.

I had a half hour consultation with a very nice doctor at the Gold Coast Women's Health Centre and had a surgery scheduled for the next Monday in spite of my doubts. The list of possible side effects is ridiculously long; I was in a happy place, physically and mentally and did not wish to rock that boat.

Come Monday, C came along dutifully for the obligatory hand holding. Whilst the implant itself is only about 4cm long, the applicator comes with a DO NOT BE ALARMED BY SIZE OF APPLICATOR warning.

I was duly alarmed.

The anaesthetic shot was quite painful. C's enthusiastic exclaimations of horror were most unhelpful. I cringed and looked the other way. Now, anaesthesia and I occasionally don't get along (i.e. Lasik surgery), so I was relieved to feel nothing during the actual insertion but C's firm grip on my left ankle.

Only after I got over the queasiness of having a foreign object in my body, did I permit C to describe in great detail, how the applicator looked probing around through my skin (really gross, huge and invasive - see bruise below).



Jan: Can I drive home?

Doctor: Of course!

Jan: ...

Doctor: ... I mean you can't do any cooking or housework for a week.

Jan: A month?

Doctor: I mean, a month. Right.

C: I'll take care of her. (He made me instant noodles for dinner.)

Anyhow it's been about six weeks or so now.

The little dot is the extent of my scarring

Pros

- Not preggers


Cons (all chronic - some days I'm totally fine)

- Weight gain: Yet to be quantified because I illogically enough, believe that knowing the actual number will realise the gain. But my shorts which could previously be removed sans unbuttoning is now tight. I do believe much of this is water retention though - the day to day fluctuation is simply too great to be actual fat.

- Joint pain: Mostly my left wrist, now extended to several fingers. One morning, I couldn't even squeeze the toothpaste out. Ibuprofen to the rescue!

- Headache: Only occured twice so far. But completely debilitating - I spent two whole days in bed.

- Acne: Slightly worse than before.

- Bleeding: This is the worst one. According to some forum posts, it's not uncommon for some women to experience it for the entire duration of the implantation. My doctor had assured me mine was unlikely to be bad, given my size and normal period cycle. WRONG. Like everything else, it comes and goes. But mostly stays. Now I just gaze wistfully at the ivory 300 threadcount Egyptian cottons. A girl still can dream.

Conclusion: I'm lazy; it was the right choice for me. Another common side effect is depression. Strangely enough, C claims that I'm a lot more cheerful now (though it's more likely due to the fact he met me when I was PMS-ing and heartbroken).