So anyway I thought, being ahlf pie-eyed and unable/unwilling to go to sleep, I'd just visit y'all and... crappuy writing, see apparently everybody is already asleep and andyway
hhhh
start agin.
Why do I develop a half-wit southern (US) states accent? Ah doanno. I jest been readin a particly good buk and it wers set in the wharl waist en ah jest cain git that shit outn mah heed.
So I just been (notice corrected spelling and grammer) over at mah bruther's hayes (bugger. there it goes again) and all the family (being me, brother, sister-in-law, mother, step-father, etc etc) were there to celebrate, or honour, or whatever, the leaving of the ancestral folk for the subcontinent. Ah. The Sub Continent. I feel another haccent heventuating.
You see, the parents are off to the Colonies, where they will be greeted and accompanied in thair travels by some poor bloody little Indian bloke who thinks they're complete tossers, but will at least make a quid out of it.
It's really time for me to go to bed. I amke no sense. Finish story later.
Saturday, February 25, 2006
Monday, February 20, 2006
How to REALLY make dumplings
(Apologies to Elaine)
Chicken and Shitake Dumplings
1. Take the recipe of one pirate.
2. Adjust as required, depending on skill, intelligence, creativity, or lack thereof.
3. Attempt to purchse a dumpling maker.
4. Fail.
5. Go to the butcher and ask him to mince 250 grams of chicken. Weather his bemused gaze. Say, with as much dignity as possible, "Or, you know, roughly."
6. Accept that it is an impossible task for the butcher to mince 250 grams of chicken, and allow him to kindly slice it up into little bits for you. Say "See you again" when leaving, and try to look like you mean it.
7. Get some shitake mushrooms. Marinate in water. Use forks, if necessary, to keep the little bastards submerged.
8. Eat whatever is in the cupboard while you figure out the next bit.
9. If you own a computer and/or printer similar to the ones pictured below, curse the day you wasted your precious money on the stupid machines. They are of no use to you. You will need to walk from the study to the kitchen repeatedly for the rest of the exercise.
10. Imagine it is a good idea to add the sesame oil and light soy sauce to the wok now.
11. Burn them. Repeat step 8.
12. Make an executive decision regarding the bok choy. How much you use is up to you. Whether the green bits or the white bits are used is also your choice. Deliberate.
13. Decide it's all too hard, and chop the lot up. All except the middle bit. It looks like a baby bok choy and that would be cruel.
14. Chop up some ginger. Assuming your butcher wouldn't mince chicken either, further assume that mincing ginger will be out of the question. Deliberate on whether you are supposed to chop up the middle of the ginger, where the little hairy bits are. Decide against it.
15. Punch the garlic. There is no other way to open it.
16. Use as much as you like. Chop it like the ginger.
17. Put the chicken, bok choy, garlic and ginger in the wok.
18. Stir until cooked.
19. Remember the shitake mushrooms.
20. Remove wok from heat.
21. Chop mushrooms as finely as possible under the circumstances. Throw as much as possible into the wok. Cook. Ignore the pooling of fluid in the bottom of the wok. Taste the shitake water.
22. Attempt to separate the frozen dumpling skins. First, try a blunt knife. Then, defrost in the microwave. Neither of these methods will work.
23. Eat anything you can find. For this exercise, I used a flavoured rice cracker.
24. Eventually prise off a whole dumpling skin. Discard the earlier ones. Fill the dumpling skin with one teaspoon of chicken mixture. Pick up the pieces that fall out. Eat them.
25. Verbally abuse any children that enter the kitchen asking if they can help.
26. Fold the dumpling in half, deftly trapping the filling. Pinch the edges together.
This will not work.
27. Remind yourself that the purpose of this whole exercise was to use the dumpling maker.
28. Observe the baby bok choy wilting. Feel disconcerted.
29. Remember Granny's trick with the fork. Use it on the dumplings.
30. Repeat steps 24 and 29 until children reappear.
31. Generously offer a turn at dumpling making. Stay close. Be prepared to mock them mercilessly.
32. Watch the pile of dumplings grow.
33. Eat an easter egg.
34. Ponder what on Earth you can possibly do with the poor little bok choy.
35. Go to the bottle shop. Find the perfect bottle of wine. Notice that it's on special: $12.99 down from $19.99
36. Buy this instead. Pour a glass immediately.
37. In your absence, the dumplings will have attempted to copulate. Begin to prise them apart.
38. Fry several dumplings in hot peanut oil. Remove to a separate dish. Remember you were supposed to splash water into the pan to make them fluffy with steam. Return them to the wok. Steam them. This will make no difference to the final product. Remove them, and repeat for several batches. Come to the understanding that 'lightly fry' is open to interpretation.
39. Finish glass of wine. Burn the last batch.
40. Mix together a splash of sesame oil, white vinegar and supermarket brand soy sauce. Taste it. Try to understand the point of it.
41. Serve dumplings and sauce with a glass of wine.
42. Allow children to tip some of your wine onto their plates with the dipping sauce. Copy them. This will make a mess, but the sauce tastes better with it than without it.
Chicken and Shitake Dumplings
1. Take the recipe of one pirate.
2. Adjust as required, depending on skill, intelligence, creativity, or lack thereof.
3. Attempt to purchse a dumpling maker.
4. Fail.
5. Go to the butcher and ask him to mince 250 grams of chicken. Weather his bemused gaze. Say, with as much dignity as possible, "Or, you know, roughly."
6. Accept that it is an impossible task for the butcher to mince 250 grams of chicken, and allow him to kindly slice it up into little bits for you. Say "See you again" when leaving, and try to look like you mean it.
7. Get some shitake mushrooms. Marinate in water. Use forks, if necessary, to keep the little bastards submerged.
8. Eat whatever is in the cupboard while you figure out the next bit.
9. If you own a computer and/or printer similar to the ones pictured below, curse the day you wasted your precious money on the stupid machines. They are of no use to you. You will need to walk from the study to the kitchen repeatedly for the rest of the exercise.
10. Imagine it is a good idea to add the sesame oil and light soy sauce to the wok now.
11. Burn them. Repeat step 8.
12. Make an executive decision regarding the bok choy. How much you use is up to you. Whether the green bits or the white bits are used is also your choice. Deliberate.
13. Decide it's all too hard, and chop the lot up. All except the middle bit. It looks like a baby bok choy and that would be cruel.
14. Chop up some ginger. Assuming your butcher wouldn't mince chicken either, further assume that mincing ginger will be out of the question. Deliberate on whether you are supposed to chop up the middle of the ginger, where the little hairy bits are. Decide against it.
15. Punch the garlic. There is no other way to open it.
16. Use as much as you like. Chop it like the ginger.
17. Put the chicken, bok choy, garlic and ginger in the wok.
18. Stir until cooked.
19. Remember the shitake mushrooms.
20. Remove wok from heat.
21. Chop mushrooms as finely as possible under the circumstances. Throw as much as possible into the wok. Cook. Ignore the pooling of fluid in the bottom of the wok. Taste the shitake water.
22. Attempt to separate the frozen dumpling skins. First, try a blunt knife. Then, defrost in the microwave. Neither of these methods will work.
23. Eat anything you can find. For this exercise, I used a flavoured rice cracker.
24. Eventually prise off a whole dumpling skin. Discard the earlier ones. Fill the dumpling skin with one teaspoon of chicken mixture. Pick up the pieces that fall out. Eat them.
25. Verbally abuse any children that enter the kitchen asking if they can help.
26. Fold the dumpling in half, deftly trapping the filling. Pinch the edges together.
This will not work.
27. Remind yourself that the purpose of this whole exercise was to use the dumpling maker.
28. Observe the baby bok choy wilting. Feel disconcerted.
29. Remember Granny's trick with the fork. Use it on the dumplings.
30. Repeat steps 24 and 29 until children reappear.
31. Generously offer a turn at dumpling making. Stay close. Be prepared to mock them mercilessly.
32. Watch the pile of dumplings grow.
33. Eat an easter egg.
34. Ponder what on Earth you can possibly do with the poor little bok choy.
35. Go to the bottle shop. Find the perfect bottle of wine. Notice that it's on special: $12.99 down from $19.99
36. Buy this instead. Pour a glass immediately.
37. In your absence, the dumplings will have attempted to copulate. Begin to prise them apart.
38. Fry several dumplings in hot peanut oil. Remove to a separate dish. Remember you were supposed to splash water into the pan to make them fluffy with steam. Return them to the wok. Steam them. This will make no difference to the final product. Remove them, and repeat for several batches. Come to the understanding that 'lightly fry' is open to interpretation.
39. Finish glass of wine. Burn the last batch.
40. Mix together a splash of sesame oil, white vinegar and supermarket brand soy sauce. Taste it. Try to understand the point of it.
41. Serve dumplings and sauce with a glass of wine.
42. Allow children to tip some of your wine onto their plates with the dipping sauce. Copy them. This will make a mess, but the sauce tastes better with it than without it.
It's a sign.
11:11 am.
I think the Lord is saying that I should go to the chinese shop and buy a dumpling maker.
I'll let you know how they turn out.
I think the Lord is saying that I should go to the chinese shop and buy a dumpling maker.
I'll let you know how they turn out.
I am lemming
I start back at uni tomorrow.
*waits for sympathetic groan*
It's my last year. And all my coursework is finished, so all I have to do is hand in the odd lit review and a dissertation.
Now. All I need is some data. Then I'll just collate it, analyse it, read about it, and write about it. Then I'm done.
Good-o.
*waits for sympathetic groan*
It's my last year. And all my coursework is finished, so all I have to do is hand in the odd lit review and a dissertation.
Now. All I need is some data. Then I'll just collate it, analyse it, read about it, and write about it. Then I'm done.
Good-o.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
What you've always suspected...
Ten Top Trivia Tips about Christianity!
- Christianity was originally green, and actually contained cocaine.
- Christianity is the traditional gift for a couple on their third wedding anniversary.
- A thimbleful of Christianity would weigh over 100 million tons!
- In a pinch, the skin from a shark can be used as Christianity.
- Early thermometers were filled with Christianity instead of mercury!
- A rhinoceros horn is made from compacted Christianity!
- Every day in the UK, four people die putting Christianity on.
- The Asteroid Belt between Mars and Jupiter is made entirely of Christianity.
- Lightning strikes Christianity over seven times every hour.
- Christianity can not regurgitate.
Monday, February 13, 2006
This seemed like a good idea at the time. I got it from Auburn. You have to be careful, though. I found the real name of a close friend in there, and I have no idea how! I've never mentioned him on the blog. Fortunately you can get it to ignore words, so this is a word cloud of my blog, minus people's names, and blognames (which come up all the time because they're in my blogroll).
Apparently, I talk about chocolate a lot. See. I knew it would reveal, in compact form, the utter genius of my ramblings.
But 'notify'? 'objectionable'? When do I talk like that? Anyone know how it works?
Apparently, I talk about chocolate a lot. See. I knew it would reveal, in compact form, the utter genius of my ramblings.
But 'notify'? 'objectionable'? When do I talk like that? Anyone know how it works?
Because it actually IS Monday
Thanks Bevis, who got it from Steph.
1. First blog you ever read?
That would be When Crustaceans Attack!, which is still linked to around the place, but hasn't been updated for ages and now I find I can't even find it anymore. So why did I hyperlink it? Sentimental old me. Or mental old me. Or old me. Or me. Me me me me me me! But Hazelblackberry showed it to me, and that's how I found out what blogs are. And then she started her own. So, by default, it's hb. I'm linking to her twice to make up for a particularly rude comment I made over there recently.
2. What inspired you to start your own?
Jealousy. Also vanity. Narcissim. A tendency to over-share. A firm conviction that my opinion is of great fascination to complete strangers. Also the spooky foreknowledge that one day I'm going to be dreadfully famous and admired in international literary circles for my scintillating wit and heart-wrenching profundity.
3. The best and worst about blogging?
The best: Discovering a whole underclass of similarly minded people.
The worst: When I'm totally famous, none of you will know it's me up there, graciously accepting the Pulitzer before my 40th birthday.
4. Who was the first person to comment on your blog? Troll your archives and find out.
Egads! It was Dr Drew: poet, musician, scientist, God-fearer, liar. You'll be back, huh? If I wasn't casks and casks of red wine in your debt, I'd take issue, really I would.
5. What has been your most popular blog entry?
By volume of comments, it looks like this one, but a lot of that was just me being a techno-tard and Chai trying to help me out.
But, really, I feel the most popular ones are where you get no comments. That way you know you've really made people think, you know? And ponder. Probably moved them to such depths of emotional self-reflection that they just can't articulate it. Those are the posts that I'm most proud of.
6. If I re-named my blog I would call it ...
...more often. It feels unloved if I don't check in occasionally.
7. If my blog had a theme song it would be ...
Some Days Are Diamonds
8. If my blog was a room it would look like ...
...my actual room. Stuff everywhere. Stuff I'm hording til I find time to organise it. Way too much dust. The room I keep the door shut on when we get visitors. Also a playroom. Except in the case of the blog I play with strangers, and... well, don't try stretch that metaphor too far.
9. Five bloggers I would like to have over for dinner.
Hazel and Grumpy. Hazel because I know her, and I like her, and she only lives round the corner but we hardly ever see each other. Grumpy, because I don't know him, but I'd like to. Also, he's married to Hazel. Hmmm. Rodney because he's also a local, and also a nice fella, and has a sneaky sense of humour which he's very delicate about showing. Also because I wonder what he'd blog about if he was anonymous. And Jellyfish and Fluffy, because for some reason they go together in my bookmarks and you can't just separate people, and also becasue they're lovely. Also because I learnt the word kvetch from Fluffy, and because Jelly went all over the world and blogged it.
Damn. It seems I've invited the first five people on my bookmark list, which is a list containing, in no particular order, the urls of the most intelligent, witty and charming people on the entire planet, all of whom I would like to meet face to face.
10. Two bloggers you would like to set up on a blind date.
Easy peasy. Bevis and Kranki.
11. Somebody I wish had a blog?
This has to be someone famous, right? Otherwise you won't know what I'm talking about. Right. Well, in that case, my second choice would be the Queen. I've always been fascinated, for instance, by the logical premise that she must go to the toilet like everyone else. I haven't thought about this since primary school, but, now you mention it, the wonder of it is still there. Actually, no its not. Sigh. Who's thoughts would I like to know? I really don't give a rats what famous people think. I mean, if I wanted to know that, I'd just buy New Idea. hey, what about my neighbour? We don't really talk. But technically, we're close enough to be able to bluetooth each others' computers. Creepy. Imagine being able to spy on their anonymous rantings. Imagine being able to make spooky comments, like "Tonght, better make sure the wooden venetians in your lounge room are drawn." Coooooool.
12. If you were only allowed to read one blog ever again, which blog would it be?
Oh for pete's sake. I'd have to give up feeling like I was keeping in touch with everyone, however loosely, and just read for literary enjoyment or something. In that case, this new person I've found could be the one.
13. Is there a fellow blogger you would like to snog / shag / do rude things to? Feel free to name names if you're game.
Um, no. No there's not.
14. Discover a blog. Link to a blog that you have recently found, or a blog you have been reading for a while and haven't blogrolled.
Well, there's cupcake, the new person mentioned above. Also, I found this guy today (thanks to Fluffy), and I've only read his latest post but I'm definitely going back for another look.
Tag five bloggers to complete this meme.
Hmmm...
Any takers? I'm a little shy. If you love me/ or if you occasionally visit here/ or you are a complete stranger who accidentally walked in on this randomly public-possibly one-way conversation, consider yourself tagged.
Thursday, February 09, 2006
So I've been thinking.
Harmless enough, in itself.
But then, following thinking, one is generally inspiried to do something. But just because one is inspired to do something, it doesn't mean anything actually gets done.
That's when you know you've been thinking too much. Or too big.
Follow me?
So I'm down-sizing my thoughts.
Here's my problem: I get an idea to do something. Then I figure it's not a good enough idea on it's own, I have to elaborate on it. I have to do a really big something. A really perfect ingenioius amazing something. Then I think, Ok, this'll take some planning. I need to write lists. I need to gather resources. I need to prepare myself. Already I'm feeling overwhelmed by it. I need chocolate. (After all, I should reward myself for such a great idea, and also, I need to keep my blood sugar up.) Then I think, What if I don't do it perfectly amazingly ingeniously? I start to worry. I check my lists. I eat more chocolate. I wait. I procrastinate.
I don't do it.
So I've figured out that I do this, you see. I realise I need to lighten up on myself (what a good idea). Let me elaborate: I have an intense fear of failure, due to the deep conviction that only perfection is acceptable, which leads me to place extremely unreasonable expectations on myself. You know, I could actually use this process of self-discovery in my counselling. I could use it to help me notice and empathise with similar faulty reasoning in my clients. I could then try a variety of methods to help move people towards greater self-acceptance. I could take note of which methods help the most, and write an article detailing this new technique, which could be published in a really reputable, peer-reviewed journal. Of course, I'll need to think about this further... Where's the chocolate?
So, no really. I have an idea. I'm just going to lighten up on myself.
How do I do that? I mean, really. This is just one more thing for me to figure out. I have to learn to live with failure.
And I need to get it right.
But then, following thinking, one is generally inspiried to do something. But just because one is inspired to do something, it doesn't mean anything actually gets done.
That's when you know you've been thinking too much. Or too big.
Follow me?
So I'm down-sizing my thoughts.
Here's my problem: I get an idea to do something. Then I figure it's not a good enough idea on it's own, I have to elaborate on it. I have to do a really big something. A really perfect ingenioius amazing something. Then I think, Ok, this'll take some planning. I need to write lists. I need to gather resources. I need to prepare myself. Already I'm feeling overwhelmed by it. I need chocolate. (After all, I should reward myself for such a great idea, and also, I need to keep my blood sugar up.) Then I think, What if I don't do it perfectly amazingly ingeniously? I start to worry. I check my lists. I eat more chocolate. I wait. I procrastinate.
I don't do it.
So I've figured out that I do this, you see. I realise I need to lighten up on myself (what a good idea). Let me elaborate: I have an intense fear of failure, due to the deep conviction that only perfection is acceptable, which leads me to place extremely unreasonable expectations on myself. You know, I could actually use this process of self-discovery in my counselling. I could use it to help me notice and empathise with similar faulty reasoning in my clients. I could then try a variety of methods to help move people towards greater self-acceptance. I could take note of which methods help the most, and write an article detailing this new technique, which could be published in a really reputable, peer-reviewed journal. Of course, I'll need to think about this further... Where's the chocolate?
So, no really. I have an idea. I'm just going to lighten up on myself.
How do I do that? I mean, really. This is just one more thing for me to figure out. I have to learn to live with failure.
And I need to get it right.
Morning Tea #6
Sit down a while, and enjoy a healthy snack with me. The gifts from The Negotiator continue (now school's back) but yesterday's gift (or, more accurately, yesterday's extortion) consisted of lollies, two packets of instant porridge and a tin of beetroot. So, I thought, beetroot and porridge just don't go, you know? And lollies are a morning tea habit level to which I'm not yet prepared to sink. So here it is: a healthy snack for you and me.
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