Friday, February 29, 2008


I realised the other day that BBQ City is becoming a distant memory. It made me both sad and of course hungry at the same time. It's almost been a year since I had my last meal there. Home is far away. My old life even further.

Deep thinking is over. A good song has come on the office speakers, it's time for chair dancing.

A new addiction

I’m finding it a little hard to write at the moment. You know when you’ve eaten so much that the usually lose skin around your stomach is now so taut that you figure this is the closest feeling to pregnancy? Well, imagine that and then some, maybe think triplets and that’s how I feel. Ugh. It was good though. I love team lunches. I love sausage and mash. And fries. And greens. And dessert. And wine. Lucky I’m heading to Brussels this weekend. I like for my stomach to be prepared for full eating capacity.

So news. Well, at work we are currently looking for an art director to work as my partner. Weird, I know. Especially when some of the people we’ve been interviewing have also been going for creative director roles or have worked at some of the best creative agencies in the world. Hmmm, could I feel anymore inadequate? Probably. Like if I was standing naked next to Gisele Bunchen, or if Dave Eggers read some of my copy. But that’s it. Oh, a humanitarian of some sort would probably do it too. And one of those 18 year olds who have started their own multi million dollar company and retire by 21. The whole process is weird because it’s kind of like being set up for an arranged marriage.

I’ve also been going insane booking things. Holidays and culture are the flavour of the month. I could be my own entertainment company. Wait, I am. I am so freakin’ excited. It’s the type of Vanessa excitement that means bunching my fists, doing an ‘eeek’ (the girliest one I can manage) and squeezing my eyes closed. I may do a shake of the head too. But not in an epileptic way, it’s more of a Hindu performing princess movement. I’m getting to a point where I can’t go a week without booking something. I may have a problem.

Ok, I really need to do some work now.

Sunday, February 24, 2008

Snot good

Cultural difference number 46: Pantene is pronounced Panten. Weird.

In other news I have been sick again. Cold number 4 in the past 2 months. So many germs, so little time. I seriously think that if the world suffered some superbug type thing. Ok, so it has, let me re phrase that, if I was subjected to some kind of superbug I'd definitely be the first to go. I feel weak and disappointed. I am a healthy person. I run. Yes, I get a stitch and can't seem to go past the 30 minute mark, but still, dammit, I sweat and get sore knees. I eat my recommended 5 servings of fruit and veg a day. Why am I at the top of the list for being wiped out? I think I might blame my mother. I am a child of an older woman. While I am more likely to be a genius (1. left handed 2. born to a woman over the age of 40 3. can't remember the third reason), I feel like I am slightly defected in the immune and sporting categories. Wait, I think the latter is my Asian genes. Ok, I'm just susceptible to germs. Do you know what I hate too? People commenting on you always being sick. Like you hadn't noticed that you've blown half of your body weight out in snot for the past 3 days.

I think I'm going to be one of those old people that glares at the young folk and tries to run people over in their old personmobile.

I'm sleepy.

Oh, I booked to go see the New York City Ballet, I can't wait!! I decided that I would go have a me moment and see the ballet on my own. I've been wanting to see them since 1996! Yay!

Ok, I'm going to bed. Excitement over.

Saturday, February 09, 2008

A new quest

I had the most random night last night. It was one of those nights where you plan to have a quiet one, and end up coming home at 4am. So after going to a 'jam session' last night, I am now thinking I want to play the guitar. Along with my signature dish, I could so be one of those really really really handy people who, when going to someone's house can not only whip up a spontaneous yet superb dish, but then gather everyone around for a sing along after. Maybe around a roaring fire.

Let's go back to say, 1994, when I played the flute. Now under the influence of my mother, who wanted me to play a musical instrument and my sister, who I idolised and had played the flute, I attended flute lessons. I sucked. So much so, that my teacher gave up on trying to teach me for exams and indulged in my requests to compose my own music. I was seriously hideous at this. In every piece, there was no kind of rythem or chorus or whatever you call it, instead, I wrote in a 'trill' in every piece. Now this 'trill' sounded like a bird. Why did I included it? Do I like birds? No. It was because I only liked doing things I was good at. Obviously not much has changed, because last night, I made everyone who could actually play the guitar play Babara Ann over and over again so I could join in on the chorus.

But now I want to be a guitar player. I know I'll forget about this by hmmm, next week, but still I'm strumming the idea of this around in my head (HA!).

Tuesday, February 05, 2008

Signed, sealed and delivered

I've decided I don't need a signature dish because I've discovered I can actually cook without trying. Yes, it's like when Teresa grew boobs overnight*, I've tapped into some ninja like culinary powers, and overnight, I'm a iron chef Vanessa.

I am planning on cooking a prawn laksa tonight. There is no end to my capabilities. I can hold my head up high in the communal kitchen now.

*I'm still waiting for this to happen to me