Decoybetty

Let's Stay Together (There's an Al Green song for every occasion)

2012-02-14T07:35:00.000+11:00

It's been a week since surgery and I finally am starting to feel more like myself. On Saturday we took a walk that would normally takes me about 9 minutes; I had to stop and sit on benches twice on the way. And then slept for 13 hours.

But today, I put my underoos on all by myself - do you know how much stomach muscles are used in putting on undies? Heaps.

There are moments from the past week that I would not like to forget - no matter how unpleasant or scary. Moments of undeniably kindness and moments of ridiculousness (this goes without saying).

Monday night as I prepared for surgery, I had to take bowel prep. Have you ever prepared your bowel? I'd only heard horror stories of how uncomfortable it is, how bad the stuff tastes, etc etc. And I won't tell you it was akin to a sunset walk in Vanuatu - I'm not a liar. But it was not nearly as horrible as it could of been, I mean you're drinking something that is supposed to give you the shits, it's not going to taste like a soy chai latte. But the hardest part of bowel prep is the waiting....the waiting for it to start. I finished drinking the stuff at 7:20 (lemon and ginger flavoured my ass), and didn't start with the um...bowel cleansing...until 11 - which if you know anything about me is several hours past my bed time.

And I'm sorry for the two males who read my blog...but this must be said. I started my..um...ladies holiday on Tuesday morning. Jorge couldn't just let me win the war without a few more battles. And so, as I put on the backless gown - they gave me throw away hospital granny panties. The sex appeal was undeniable and Inspector Climate and I had a good laugh as I pranced around our curtained off hospital room in a backless gown and jumbo sized undies.

I don't really want to remember the look of fear and sorrow and pain on Inspector Climate's face as he spread the sheet over me in the hospital bed. Shit got real, yo. I cried. We held hands as they put this giant heater on me (called the Bare Hugger). And I waited.

Until I didn't. Those doctors wait for no one. When they're ready. They're ready. With a quick kiss from Inspector Climate I was wheeled off through doors and hallways (to be honest, they could have brought me anywhere as they took away my glasses and I could see...nothing).

I asked the Anesthesiologist if a lot of people say funny things when they're coming out of anesthesia - but apparently they say the funniest stuff when they're going under. Like the one guy who said "I have sex with men in public in St Kilda" as he drifted to unconsciousness. As he finished the punchline of his story, the nurse told me to take a few deep breaths and then I was gone.

I woke up in pain. The nurse gave me more pain killers and then I slept. I couldn't keep my eyes open. Inspector Climate appeared beside me and stayed there. The doctor stopped by twice. I asked to sit up hoping I'd be able to stay awake long enough to tell Inspector Climate that I loved him, but I'm not sure I ever said the words as I'd drifted off to sleep again (and again and again). I asked for my glasses hoping that if I could see, I'd stay awake. I slept.

Once we got home I slept more - I slept the day away. I heard Inspector Climate on the phone saying "I thought it would be much harder taking care of her, but all she does is sleep."

Today is Valentine's Day - a day in which is like any other in Inspector Climate's and my relationship except on Valentine's day we celebrate by buying a gift that we need. This year's is a slotted spatula (which probably is the traditional Valentine's gift for your first Valentine's as a married couple...I'm not 100% on that though).

I really got the best gift of all though - I caught me a man who takes care of me when I'm at my worst, makes me laugh 'til it hurts (which to be fair is easy when you have stomach surgery), and slept on the floor because I was worried that in his sleeping shenanigans he'd hit me in the stomach in my sleep (this is sadly not an irrational fear as a few nights before he slapped me in the face because he thought I had bugs on my head). A guy who still loved me even when I wore gauze-like jumbo sized granny panties. If that ain't the real thing, I don't know what is.

It's Just Flying to the Moon. No Big deal.

2012-02-11T07:52:00.002+11:00

I started writing this post last weekend as I prepared for surgery.

I often feel the need to justify things that don't quite feel right to me. Like I need to kind of make these items seem insignificant to myself and others in hopes that if we rush past we won't realise that all these things have a fairly dramatic impact on Future-Decoybetty. It has something to do with my not meeting my own and others expectations as well.

"Mom, I'm just applying for permanent residency, so you know, I can stay if I want to"

"Oh, that was just a short term job working with a small not for profit"

"He broke up with me on facebook, but we'd only dated for a few months"

"It's just day surgery."

"I don't want to have kids because..."

"I got a great job, but it's only for few a months"

(Probably my all time favourite of these justifications was in a physics class in college. The professor was a bit annoyed with us because we weren't getting some simple concept and finally said "REALLY, it's not like this is ROCKET SCIENCE...well, actually, that part here...that's rocket science.")

And even as I'm doing it, I want to gobble the justifications back into my mouth as they seem to be bubbling out of it. Because all these things didn't need to be justified or belittled.

It was a short term job where I learned some new skills and propelled me into the position I have now (which B T Dubs, I have not once applied this "justify" language to when I tell people about the new job). The relationship was crap. No matter how crap, it's still a horrible thing to do to a person. Sure it's fairly routine surgery, but man it scares the living bejesus out of me. And while I tell myself it pretty natural to feel scared everyone else around me seems to continue to put this in the "it's a not a big deal" box.

So, here I am recovering from just day surgery. And lo, it is taking way longer than I expected it too. All those "Justs" and "Onlys" and "Becauses" made it seem like this was insignificant, however here I sit for days I've struggled to sit up and lie down (seriously, did you know you use your abs for that?!). I have three holes, albeit small ones (there I go again) that cut straight through my abdominal wall, and not only did I have my 4 x 3 cm endo growth (bygones Jorge) - I had several smaller ones which were removed and several adhesions which include my left ovary being stuck underneath my uterus and to my pelvic wall (How? Why?) that were fixed. Why did I think I'd be recovered by now?

Inspector Climate is taking fantastic care of me. He doles out the drugs, he makes sure I drink water, the day after surgery he helped me go the bathroom (humiliating), and is my biggest cheer leader for whatever new achievement I make each day (today it is sitting up with my computer on my lap).

I've missed you, I have more stories to tell from surgery, but first...how have you been?

Dessert Day # 3 - A celebration of Nutella.

2012-02-05T19:57:00.000+11:00

I'm not feeling particularly well. A combination of Jorge being a jerkface, emotional distress about the week ahead, and coming down off the sugar high from all the nutella that was consumer today (ie A LOT).

So, I'm going to keep this short on the words and heavy on the pictures. One, I had another fantastic time cooking with Melbourne on my mind - who you should congratulate because she's the 20 Something Blogger featured blogger of the month!

Anyway, we decided to make this Nutella Cake and this Nutella Pound Cake (lesson: two cakes is always better than one cake. This is basic math 2>1.)

Check out our drool worthy goods:

This is what we started with...Oh yeah.

Hazelnut Nutella Cake - naturally gluten free and rich and delicious.

I'm not a giant chocolate cake lover. I don't know what it is though, but ganache (a sexy word, no?) oozing down the side of a cake just does it for me. You know?

Ooooooh, yeah, baby.

The pound cake....well, look. It wouldn't be dessert day without some...minor set backs. Note to self, use baking paper next time...But this cake is DIVINE. You basically take a tub of nutella and swirl it through your basic pound cake. Cut me off a slice of that.

For those of you keeping track at home (and I imagine you are with bated breath) these two recipes make number 14 and 15 on my life list)

Remember that time I got my visa and we all rejoiced?

2012-02-03T19:59:00.000+11:00

Do you remember it? I remember it like it was...oh, I don't know two days ago.

Well, the joy hasn't completely evaporated. But today, after another delightful visit with my mumbling lawyer (honestly, if he would just not talk under his breath, I might understand what the hell is going on). I'm applying for a spouse visa. A visa that will put me on a slightly quicker track to permanent residency. And to answer some of your questions in the comments of the post linked to above: No, nothing is really being transferred from one visa to the next. It's like starting from scratch but because of where I am in the process now, it should be hopefully a bit quicker. My lawyer is hoping for 3-4 months with the longest estimates at nine months...However, it has been known to take much longer.

(Seriously, I really like my lawyer and he has been nothing but nice to me besides a few lawyer like things that look, it's in their genes or something...so if you need an immigration lawyer in Australia I'd love to hook you up with him).

So, anyway, yeah. I have about 5000 forms to fill out and papers to write (including as Inspector Climate has dubbed it "Our Romantic Novel Love Story" which will be filled with tid bits like how we met, photos of trips we've been on, stories of meeting the parents, and we'll probably mention getting married.). Screen shots of emails sent, and proof of all the joint accounts we have. Fabulous. The good news is the more quickly we do it the less likely I'll have to take any tests again!!

On top of that, on the market for a new phone plan (Hello smart phone, we shall finally meet! And then I could tweet...OUTSIDE OF MY HOME) - except that apparently because my visa is only 18 months they won't give me a 24 month plan. So instead I'll have to pay tons more per month for a 12 month plan.

The truth, the real truth and nothing but the truth so help me ~~God~~ puppies is that I can now count the days before I got under the knife and it scares me. I know it's just routine surgery. And that tons of women have this surgery everyday who are all fine (and so courageous. You go ladies). And that I'll be fine. I know I'll be fine. But I can't help but be scared - and hurt when people tell me "oh, but it's only day surgery. It's not a big deal."

You'll probably get one more post with Jorge still growing inside me. But then, after that I'll be Jorge free. Bonus: You might get some drugged up Decoybetty posts - I've never been drugged up!

It's only taken 27 months to achieve, but man it feels good.

2012-02-01T07:40:00.000+11:00

At the end of 2009, I started the process of applying for a General Skilled Migration visa. This started with making appointments for things like taking an English Test (I passed!) and getting a medical done (You won't believe this, but I STILL don't have TB).

Months ticked by. Years even. And then nearly two years after I started the process, I got an email from my lawyer saying "they need you to re-do all those tests..." And so for the last six months, I have had my medical test done again, I had that lovely four month period of total frustration involved with getting fingerprints which led to getting engaged and married within a few months of each other.

I originally got my finger prints done on 9 November 2011, and decided that I'd immediately make an appointment to have them done again, since it takes months to book in. The Next booking was for February 9, 2012. That felt so far away, I was sure that the FBI would contact me prior to the date.

Once we got back from America, I checked our mail religiously hoping beyond hope that the envelope a self addressed would be sitting there in my mail box. I was totally panicky, what if it doesn't come! What if I didn't fill in the paperwork properly, or what if they can't use the weird voucher I bought at the post office to mail the results back to me! WHAT IF I'M A CRIMINAL.

I started wondering how I was going to make it to the appointment two days after surgery. Was I going to be able to get there? Could I afford NOT going if I didn't hear from the FBI? Would I have to be one of those lame people who takes a taxi two blocks?

On January 27th, 2012 I went to yoga - a normal Friday morning thing I do. I checked the mailbox and there sitting by itself was a nondescript envelope. I opened it up and there it was. A simple letter declaring that (who would a thunk it) I have no criminal record in the US.

I emailed my lawyer asking him if I should bring in the document or could scan it to him. And got an out-of-office reply saying that he wouldn't be in again until Monday. And so, I went around spending the rest of my Friday like I always do, puttering around the internet, packing halfheartedly for our weekend getaway. I of course made time for my "I'm not a crim/I got the FBI letter" dance.

This was interrupted by my mobile ringing and someone at my lawyer's office telling me I URGENTLY needed to get my FBI results to the lawyer's IMMEDIATELY. IMMEDIATELY, people.

There was no time to lose, I threw some toiletries into my backpack, grabbed the letter and rushed to the city.

This guy didn't know I had received them that day. What would have happened if I hadn't?

Anyway, I guess I expected that weeks or months from now, I'd get a call saying "oh yeah, your visa is approved." So imagine my surprise when I was at work yesterday, sitting at my desk, typing away and my phone rang and it was...my lawyer's office. And somehow, my caseworker was able to approve my visa in a day and a half. And just like that it was over.

I'm now the proud recipient of a visa. Of course, on Friday I'll start my application for a spouse visa, but for the next two days I have one more thing ticked off my list.

Visa: check.

Today I learned that Facebook is creepy and when I write about it...it's boring.

2012-01-30T21:40:00.001+11:00

Oh, the irony.

For the past several years, since Facebook has gone public, I've always that I didn't want to join again because I never wanted a job to search me out on Facebook and then see some picture of me in college doing shots of orange juice (Hey, I don't drink!).

And now, I've had to get a Facebook account for my job. I KNOW.

(Although don't bother coming to look for me, I've got some serious privacy restrictions going.)

When I signed in today, I took a look around my blank (very blank) page and noticed a list of people that I might know. They included my brother, a cousin, a friend of high school, and Not Daniel (a guy I dated - and I use that term loosely - for a few months). I'm sure this has been written about to DEATH, but honestly?

___________

Ok, sorry. I lost interest in that post as I was writing it. So I can only imagine how quickly you lost interest in it.

When I was searching my archives for something about Not Daniel. I found this post titled: 90.5% pure lunacy.

I'm so completely overjoyed with the way things turned out, which is exactly as I described them there. Inspector Climate and I don't drink hot chocolate in the morning, but snuggle tucked up in sheets and blankets (in winter) and talk about our day. We dance in grocery store aisles. And while, we didn't entirely skip the awkward getting to know you stage, we did seem to bypass most of it with a little help from chemistry and simply feeling comfortable around each other.

And after, a long, but awesome, second day at work, the reminder that someone chose to adore me...even with my 90.5 % lunacy record is just too much to be grateful for.

Oh Change, and fears, and challenges and amazingness

2012-01-27T07:56:00.000+11:00

Like many a person, I'm not very good at handling change or starting new routines. In fact, I'm terrible at it.

So starting a new job is the ultimate test of my will power - and it goes without saying that a. the new job is awesome and b. that in three months I'm going to be all "why was I so afraid of these things I do every day? Easy peasy."

But right now the change in my routine seems the most overwhelming. You see, I'm a introvert in a big way. I read the most incredible explanation of introvert v. extravert on someone's blog (I thought it was at my friend Ruby's blog but when I went back to find today I couldn't find it. Boo!).

It's not that I can't handle social situations, but that I have a finite well of social situation tolerance and to fill that well back up again, I desperately need time by myself. It just so happens that my social situation tolerance level (what I ~~just made up~~ scientifically deem as SST) is much lower than the average person's.

And starting a new job, this is what scares me the most. I feel the well draining as I enter more and more social engagements that I don't wish to cancel (like going away to visit Inspector Climate's family this weekend) and I can't help but worry that I'll never be able to replenish it again.

I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea either - I'm so grateful for this job, so grateful that I think I'm going to adore the people I work with, and grateful that I'll love the work and am so incredibly passionate about it too.

I'm even grateful for the change, and just have to keep reminding myself that I'm good at a lot of things, but gracefully leaping from one thing to the next is not one of them. And that's ok. What would be the fun in being graceful all the time? It's the bumps and bruises that are real conversation starters.

And so, if you need me, I'll be sitting quietly by myself, replenishing my well of SST.

Lessons learned from Jorge (one of many)

2012-01-24T18:34:00.000+11:00

For the past couple of weeks, my stomach has been in various levels of, how does one put this delicately, bloated. It's not pretty and it's uncomfortable.

What we've noticed however, and this is science y'all, that how grouchy I am (recently very) is proportional to how bloated my stomach is. To demonstrate this best, and scientifically, I've created a graph.

Don't be alarmed by its level of complexity, it's really quite simple.

Unfortunately, I've been hovering between the "Wow the elastic on my pants is digging into my belly" and "I swallowed a basketball. That's so awkward" marks. The "I swallowed a basketball. That's so awkward" phase is also sometimes called "Congratulations on your baby." Both are not ideal and don't feel great.

In fact, sometimes it's so huge that Inspector Climate talks to my belly and tells Jorge to get outta there! (me thinks this isn't the normal "belly talk" that married couples do. But I don't know for sure).

And so, what we've learned is that bloating leads to grouchy pants.

What have you learned recently?

Wish! {Out loud}

2012-01-23T15:54:00.000+11:00

On the first Wish! {Out loud} in December, see my link up here, I wished to combine my two passions into one job - social media and climate change...

Bitches. Accomplished! About 44 minutes ago, I got a job offer for a job that combines these two things absolutely perfectly. I couldn't be more excited in fact, I did an "I got a job" dance for about 10 minutes until I was out of breath and panting uncomfortably (it's HOT in Melbourne today).

I'm just so relieved.

So, again, this opportunity wouldn't have come my way without this blog and this group (that's you!) of dedicated readers who like to stop in here and make me feel like my ramblings are worth listening to.

This must be what it feels like to win an Oscar!

I'd like to thank the interview panel, my husband for reading all my applications and making sure I use the right 'there', my blog readers for putting up with my whining on a daily basis, and of course, puppies. Thank you.

Let's not pass SOPA...unless it's referring to sopapilla sundaes and then I'm all for it. More Sopapillas for everyone, no SOPA

2012-01-19T08:03:00.001+11:00

PROTECT IP / SOPA Breaks The Internet from Fight for the Future on Vimeo.

via Motherjones

11 Things

2012-01-17T18:02:00.000+11:00

So, I've been tagged twice for the "11 things about me" meme by A Quick Succession of Busy Nothings and Vanisha's life in Australia.

Apparently, we need to talk about the rules...

1) You must post these rules.
2) Each person must post 11 things about themselves on their blog.
3) Answer the questions the tagger set for you in their post, and create 11 new questions for the people you tag to answer.
4) You have to choose 11 people to tag and link them on the post.
5) Go to their page and tell them you linked him or her.
6) No tag backs.7) No stuff in the tagging section about "you are tagged if you are reading this." You have to legitimately tag 11 people.

So 11 facts about me...
a. I love chocolate as much as the next person, however I'm not a big fan of chocolate cake.
b. To be fair to cake, I am not a big fan of it in any flavour.
c. I do not like that the mullet dress (short in the front, demure from the back) is making a comeback!
d. I clean the bathroom in my undies.
e. Which means I can get straight into the shower afterwards.
f. I haven't heard from the FBI about my fingerprints yet - I am getting a bit panicky
g. I've mentioned it before, but I'll mention it again, I can not watch just part of an episode of CSI or any other crime drama. I must see the whole thing, other wise I never believe that all the people that should be ok will be ok (even if they're the main characters).
h. Likewise, animal shows where a baby tiger/polar bear/red panda/whatever gets hurt or their mother dies or something is about to eat. I cannot handle it.
i. This has been made worse by Jorge. I used to just get really squeamish. Now I cry. Big fat tears.
j. Over the weekend, I went inside the penguin inclosure at the Melbourne Aquarium.
k. No, I didn't break in. Inspector Climate bought me the Penguin Passport for Christmas. Yes, he knows me well.

Vanisha's Questions:

1. When was the last time you fell down?

Does sledding down count? So, it's a Christmas tradition at my house to go sledding on Christmas morning after presents have been opened. Well, on Christmas Eve I went sledding with my bestie Bobo and her boyfriend and Inspector Climate. And had a wee bit of a crash:

The tip of my nose and cheek were quite scraped up. The best part is I had all these scabs on my face to get my license renewed. Awesome.

2. The last piece of mail you received (in the post) was from?

Qantas. I'm now Frequent Flyer (I don't know why it took my so long to sign up).

3. Would you read the book first or watch the movie first?

I try to always read the book first. But after taking a lot of film classes in college I'm pretty good at remembering that books and films are different mediums and the stories will need to be told differently.

4. The last place you traveled to?

Well, I went home..

5. What song have you got playing in your head?

Soul Sister by Train (but the cover that was on Glee..?) It was playing at the supermarket yesterday.

6. Cupcakes or cakes?

Ahh, definitely cupcakes.

7. How do you spend your Friday nights?

Inspector Climate and I try not to watch a lot of tv (a rule that has gone to hell since I've been ill with Jorge and the tennis is on) so we usually watch a movie or West Wing on Friday nights.

8. Where did you meet your partner? (If you don't have a partner, where did you meet your best friend?)

My best friend and I met in high school, we canoed together.

Oooooh, Inspector Climate...I'm sure you could find it if you really wanted too!

9. Facebook or Twitter?

Twitter. I haven't been on Facebook since 2006 (you know, when it was The Facebook).

10. What's for dinner tonight?

Lemon and pea risotto

11. What is your favorite piece of jewelry?

God, what a question! I wear the same jewelery everyday. Seriously. I've been wearing the earrings (seen in the above picture) since I was about 12. They're the only earrings that my ears didn't have an allergic reaction to, and so I never change them.

I've been wearing the same necklace (not seen in the above photo because the cord broke on the second day of the trip) since I was in high school.

I wear two rings, my engagement ring and a ring my grandmother gave me for my 23 birthday.

And a Cape Cod bracelet.

Everyday. I never take them off.

Melbourne on my mind's Questions:

1) What's your favourite everyone-I-know-must-watch-this movie?

High Fidelity. John Cusack and I go way back. Well, you know, he was my first celebrity crush.

2) What's at the top of your "places I want to go" list?

Faulkland Islands - PENGUINS

3) Where would you want to live if money was taken out of the equation?

8 months in Melbourne/Tasmania, 4 months in New England.

4) What was the first CD you bought? (Don't be ashamed - mine was Aquarium by Aqua!)

Spice Girls.

5) What's your drink of choice?

Half and Halfs. Half ice tea and half lemonade.

6) If you had a time machine, where and when would be your first stop?

I'd love to meet my parents when they first met.

7) Mac or PC?

Mac

8) You can go to any restaurant in the world for dinner. Where do you go?

There is a sushi restaurant near where I went to college that my girlfriends and I used to go to a lot. It had super creative vegetarian rolls and I had the best time with some of my favourite girls.

9) What's the best concert you've been to?

Three way tie: Pat Benatar, the Scissor Sisters, and the Police.

10) What's your favourite type of food?

Fresh, organic produce.

11) Dogs or cats?

I do not discriminate. I like animals with paws.

My questions/statements are as follows:

1. What motivates you?

2. How do you like your tv series, on dvd for watching all at once or doled out once a week?

3. True or False: they don't make boy bands like they used to.

4. What's the comfort food you go to when you need a pick me up?

5. How would you spend your ideal day?

6. If there is something holding you back, what is it?

7. I just heard Sofia Vergara say that she is actually a blonde but dyes her hair brunette. When Ellen asked her who has fun blondes or brunettes Sofia responded "girls with bigger boobs." True or False?

8. Talk me through your next honeymoon.

9. What are you jonesing for right now? (could be food, clothing item, a pair of shoes, whatever!).

10. What's your favourite Roald Dahl book?

11. What sound is the most annoying to you?

And now here are the people I'm tagging.

1. Evolving Revolver

2. Diary of Why

3. The Titleless Blog

4. the best is yet to be

5. Teacher Girl Blogs

Bits and bobs

2012-01-16T07:34:00.000+11:00

Last week, Inspector Climate and I got to eat some home grown tomatoes from our planter box!

I just sliced them up with some fresh basil, goat cheese, and balsamic vinaigrette. Yum!

I was also guest blogging all over the place last week.

Check out this post over at the Many Colours of Happiness.

I also wrote a post about my hopes for 2012 over at my friend Ruby's blog, There is more than one kind of me. In that guest post, I mentioned some hardships about our upcoming wedding that when read a second time I realised probably made me sound like a selfish bitch. What? You're not in my mind and can't see what I really meant? Writing is so hard.

For me the kind of "point" of the wedding itself is two fold. 1. To celebrate the love between two families who are now joined together. 2. An experience for the bride and groom that is very much one of a kind. I'm totally willing to compromise on all "stuff" aspects of the wedding (point taken, a flash mob dance doesn't really fit into a wedding of less than 30 people. And perhaps my dream of having Ellen officiate is just that...a dream) but the experience part of the wedding is harder for me to give up.

I wanted the experience of making my wedding dress with my mom. A simple dress. No ruffles, no beads. And she, understandably I suppose, did not want to have anything to do with it. It's been a hard thing for me to let go of. I wanted the experience of eating 100% gluten free vegetarian food at my wedding, a place where I could eat ANYTHING that was put in front of me - that's a real rarity. And I've had to compromise on that too. There will now be meat (!) at my wedding.

So anyway, go over and check out what else I have in mind for 2012.

The importance of modesty while sleeping...?

2012-01-13T08:11:00.001+11:00

Earlier this week, I suffered from severe Jorge-induced pain and grouchiness (double whammy!). This type of pain makes it really hard for me sleep through the night and get to sleep. Although, I did find that sleeping like a pregnant woman - on my side with pillows between my legs - was way more comfortable. Yay for learning!

Anyway, it was of course these nights when Inspector Climate put on a show of sleep talking/sleep moving and a-shaking that we really should sell tickets too. His conversations were mostly of the mumbled variety.

Him: do you agaljaga=ghwoih alkhgaoigaiw?

long pause

him: Ahhh, right.

But he also got up in the middle of the night, went to the bathroom, left the light on and came back into the bedroom with his towel wrapped around his waist. Now this is odd for several reasons. 1. Inspector Climate is not modest. In fact, he usually comes waltzing into the bedroom after his morning shower, in the buff announcing that he is naked. "Naked!" ... "Naked!" only to say "Not naked" when he begins to dress.

I asked him to turn off the light to which he replied grouchily "In a minute!"

He then slipped his underwear on under the towel - so much modesty!, took the towel off and then went back into the bathroom to hang it up and turn off the light. Then ran his hand over the sheets on his side of the bed, to check for bugs I can only assume, and crawled back into bed for some well earned horizontal sleep.

The next morning I asked him what he was doing, why did he have a sudden urge to change his undies in the middle of the night which he of course did not remember doing at all. In fact, he did not remember anything after getting up and going to the bathroom.

ABCs of Travel

2012-01-11T13:24:00.000+11:00

The ABC's of travel gives bloggers the opportunity to share their favorite and most memorable travel moments from A-Z! Thanks to Oneika from Oneika the Traveller for tagging me! I'll be tagging 3 other bloggers at the end of this post so they can share their ABCs as well!

A: Age you went on your firstinternational trip: I'm not actually entirely sure. I think I must've been three. I went to Mexico. I remember there being a pinata. I didn't take another international trip until I was 11, I went to England to visit my uncle.

B: Best (foreign) beer you’vehad and where: I'm actually allergic (please don't say, "Me too! It gets me drunk!") to beer, but while in Australia I did splurge once or twice (tipsy AND hives - SEXY!). Cascade is probably my favourite. But that might be because it has a Tasmanian Devil on the bottle.

C: Cuisine (favorite): Indian, I love that I can eat it! Nom nom nom.

D: Destinations, favorite,least favorite and why: I think it's pretty obvious that my (continuing) journey to Australia has been my favourite destination. I have never felt as at home and comfortable while traveling and experiencing so many new and beautiful sights as I have in Australia. My least favourite was probably Turkey. And it was not entirely Turkey's fault. There were so many incredibly things to see in Turkey, but mostly what I remember about the 10 day trip was being starving all the time. I had finally gotten a diagnosis from 6 months of stomach pains which was parasites that I had picked up in India and was on some pretty heavy duty drugs that literally ate everything in my stomach. So I was hungry and while many will not believe me, I'm here to tell you that I cannot survive on Hummus alone. I struggled to find gluten free vegetarian food in Turkey, and I cried a lot out of hunger.

E: Event you experienced abroadthat made you say “wow”: Walking into the grounds at the Taj Mahal was just absolutely breath taking. I'm a country girl and the hustle and bustle of Indian cities seemed dirty, outlandishly busy, and then the serenity and cleanliness of the Taj Mahal was just perfection!

F: Favorite mode oftransportation: I love walking until my feet hurt.

G: Greatest feeling whiletraveling: There are probably two greatest feelings. One is that feeling of strength and confidence I get from being some where new and strange - I hardly ever feel like that in my safe shell at home. And second is learning how different average people lives are in different places down to how coffee is ordered and sipped to how pedestrians are treated at road crossings. And I like the similarities too - no matter where you are teenage girls are giggling about some boy.

H: Hottest place you’vetraveled to: In 2009, I experienced heat like I've never felt it before. There was a giant heatwave in Melbourne that led up to the bushfires which devastated whole communities. In Melbourne on the day of the biggest and deadliest bushfires it was 48 degrees Celsius or 118 degrees Fahrenheit. But if that isn't hot enough (and trust me when I say it is) the wind that was like sauna with its incessant blowing - ladies and gentlemen I'm pretty sure that is what hell feels like.

I: Incredible service you’veexperienced and where: Iririki Resort in Vanuatu. It is on its own small island and the people went way out of their way to make you feel comfortable and at home.

J: Journey that took thelongest: The longest non-stop flight I've ever taken is from Los Angeles to Melbourne it's 14.5 hours. The longest trip that I've taken is once while trying to fly home from Australia I had to (for unknown reasons) fly from Melbourne to LAX to JFK to Boston.

K: Keepsake from your travels: I buy postcards a lot - I send a lot of them to family and friends but often keep a few for myself. I hardly ever go clothes shopping so if I find a piece of clothing that I love, I adore to add it to my wardrobe as a memory of where I've been! T-shirts from zoos and aquariums are favourites.

L: Let-down sight, why andwhere: The Giant Ginger Beer in Noosa. It was no longer. I've never been so disappointed.

M: Momentwhere you fell in love with travel: I went to Germany in 2002/2003 to visit an exchange student who had been in my highschool! It was magical.

N: Nicest hotel you’ve stayedin: I loved the Eloise books when I was little. So, when I was quite young my grandmother took me to New York for the weekend to stay at the Plaza hotel like Eloise. They screwed up our reservation and had given our room to someone else. My grandmother, understandably upset, talked to them and instead of just a normal room, they gave us the Honeymoon suite for the night. The luxury was absolutely incredible!

O: Obsession—what are youobsessed with taking pictures of while traveling?: I'm really bad at taking pictures while I travel. I tend to either get obsessed with taking pictures and then I don't really experience what I'm doing - and I hate that feeling. Since I can't seem to experience AND take pictures, I'd much rather just experience it.

P: Passport stamps, how manyand from where? I have quite a few - mostly from Australia. France, Turkey, India, New Zealand, Vanuatu, Fiji, Iceland are also represented.

Q: Quirkiest attraction you’vevisited and where: Probably the underwater post box in Port Vila. AWESOME.

R: Recommended sight, event orexperience: I think everyone should experience living overseas for a while.

S: Splurge; something you haveno problem forking over money for while traveling: Things that make me feel safe. Traveling is quite out of my safety zone so paying a few bucks to make sure I feel better (even if it's kind of a token gesture), I'm all for it. Nicer hotels v. hostels or whatever it might be are examples.

T: Touristy thing you’vedone: Hot air balloon ride in Turkey in Cappadocia.

U: Unforgettable travel memory: Looking up at the stars on a beach somewhere in Western Australia. There is absolutely NO light pollution and I've never seen so many stars or the milky way that bright before.

V: Visas, how many and forwhere? So many. One to India, Turkey, I have two pasted in my passport right now that allow me to leave and reenter Australia. And I've had three electronic ones that let me live in Australia as a student.

W: Wine, best glass of winewhile traveling and where? I don't drink. But I enjoyed the wine tours through the Barossa Valley in South Australia last summer.

X: eXcellent view and fromwhere?: I had the best view ever growing up.

Y: Years spent traveling? All my life. When I was three my parents took my brothers and I sailing around the Florida Keys for 8 months. But I don't think I could possibly stop now. And now that I've married an Australian, I think I'll traveling through hemispheres for the rest of my life.

Z: Zealous sports fans andwhere?: Melbourne is absolutely filled with zealous sports fans! Home of Australian Rules Football, the Australian Open, golf tournaments, and Cricket.

Tag you're it!

Melbourne on My Mind - I've met her in real life and was totally astounded by all the travel she has done!
Crazy Shenanigans - She shares my love for travel and loves Elvis which I totally respect! :)
Evolving Revolver - Seriously, my bloggy soul sister!

Can't wait to hear your responses ladies!

Let's be real, women sweat. Well, accept for me. I don't sweat, no one on my mom's side of the family does.

2012-01-09T06:56:00.000+11:00

Dear Nike, Lacoste, Fila, Adidas, and any other sports wear companies that sponsor women tennis players,

Hello sportswear companies. We need to talk. See, here's the thing. I love tennis season in Australia - it lasts for the month of January and is the only time I can watch tennis on tv throughout the year. And I adore tennis.

I don't discriminate between men's tennis and women's, I love them both. However, I've begun to notice a not so pleasant sweat problem amongst your sportswear on tennis stars. It starts just when the woman in question begins to sweat which inevitably is boob/cleavage sweat. And that soaks through her shirt leaving small sweat marks on her boobs which grow to become a sweat bra and then finally when the match is nearly over a sweat shirt.

Here is my question for you, dear Nike, Lacoste, Fila, Adidas, and any other sports wear companies that sponsor women tennis players, why haven't you made shirts yet that disguise this discoloration due to sweat around the boobs? Surely you are big enough corporations to have a designated "sweat marks" team which is working on this unsightly problem? I'll tell you right now, I'm not leaning towards buying any of your tennis wear (even if it does make me play like Kim Clijsters) if I'm going to have awkward sweat marks that grow out from my nipples.

Just work on it ok?

Love a tennis fan,

D

Honeymoon Day 3: Chasing Waterfalls

2012-01-06T13:12:00.000+11:00

When I left off about describing our fantastic Vanuatu honeymoon (in excruciating detail perhaps?), we had just spent the day hanging out at our resort snorkelling and beaching. One of the best things about going to a resort that does weddings and has a lot of honeymooners is that people kind of expect you to be a bit sickeningly cute. Now, I'll be honest, I am not one to be hanging all over Inspector Climate (I'm looking at you couple who whenever we walked by the pool was macking on each other...), but it was nice to be able to hold hands while snorkelling and not feel too gross, you know?

Sorry, rampage.

Anyway.

On our third day in Vanuatu, we decided to do some exploring a little bit outside the city of Port Vila. First stop, the Mele Cascade Waterfalls.

I have a fear of visiting waterfalls and not being impressed, and as we walked up the short trail we came across these:

Pretty? Sure. But pretty enough to be a tourist attraction?

Don't mind my fugly sunglasses - it's a long story.

The trail winded along next to the river and then opened into a small clearing where a very large pack of Bamboo was growing. It was quite spectacular.

When we finally reached the end of the dirt path it turned into a climb up through the river itself.

And we found ourselves here:

The waterfalls were DEFINITELY worth it. Besides, there was a "tour guide" whose job it was, it seemed, to help bikini clad girls climb up on to some rocks and have their picture taken with him. His dog napped in the shade and occasionally played fetched with a water sogged coconut.

After the waterfalls, we headed to Hideaway Island which is a short 2 minute ferry ride from the main island and has amazing snorkelling and an UNDERWATER POST BOX.

For the underwater post box, you write your postcard on water proof paper with a pencil and then duck dive to put it in the box. Once a day it is attended by a scuba diver who takes the post cards out and mails them normally. It's kind of a weird gimmicky tourist thing, but also so much fun! And the recipients of our post cards were pretty psyched about receiving them!

The water was warm and the fish were friendly and plentiful (SO MANY COLOURS).

And then we took a nap, because that's what we do apparently on honeymoons.

Not ready to get back into the swing of things

2012-01-04T15:52:00.000+11:00

Happy new year my bitches. I'm not much for New Year's resolutions so I didn't make one!

Inspector Climate and I actually flew back to Australia on New Year's eve. Our plane, slightly delayed from leaving the gate, was taking off right as we ticked into the new year. To be honest, the new year was over shadowed by the three year old sitting next to me who was peeing in an empty bag of Doritos.

Yeah.

See, while we were still on the ground and waiting to take off the child sitting next to me announced to his mother that he had to pee like right now. And even I, a woman with no children, know when a toddler needs to pee he cannot wait until the fasten seat belt sign is turned off. The flight attendants wouldn't let the child use the toilet and so the mother compromised and had him pee in a bag. Let's just say, this was not the beginning of a good flight for me.

_____________________

Inspector Climate begged me to blog about this. Begged. And so I'll tell you about our second day back in Australia. I had a doctor's appointment to schedule a surgery to remove Jorge (begone Jorge! Begone! Is be gone two words? who knew?). The doctor explained the surgery to me and told me all about the preparation I'd have to undergo: fasting and bowel prep. He wrote me a prescription for the drink that I'll have to take which he said "will literally give you the shits."

On the way home, we stopped by the chemist to pick it up and I grabbed the bottle, paid for it, and started heading out of there as quickly as possible. Inspector Climate asked to see it and then said..."Um, I thought your doctor wrote a prescription for drink not a do it yourself enema..."

And so, after an awkward conversation with the chemist I returned it for the drink because let me tell right now I draw the line at an enema. Jorge, you win that one.

______________________

I also learned something about you all, you're horrible secret keepers. Go over here to see why, but for the love of Pete don't say who sent you.

How was your holiday?

Guest Post: Elizabeth from Using This not That

2011-12-28T08:14:00.000+11:00

While I'm travelling home for the holidays I asked some of my favourite bloggers to do a few guest posts for me. I've only started reading Elizabeth's blog(s) recently. I particularly enjoy reading her blog on her efforts to live more sustainably over at Using This not That.

Today she is sharing a story that I can personally relate to so much. I think often in the effort to become more green we forget that not everything that is fashionable is functional in our sustainable efforts! Welcome Elizabeth!

Hi everyone! I’m soexcited to be here guest blogging for Deidre while she is off traveling for theholidays.

I thought I’d start by introducing myself. I go by Elizabeth or E online. You can find me on Twitter (@ewiley). I blog at randomstupidness.blogspot.com (alifestyle blog) and usingthisnotthat.wordpress.com (a green living blog). I thought I’d share a story that connects thetwo together.

This fall I moved to a big city for grad school. To be a little more green, I’ve been tryingto ride my bike or walk when I can, but I hadn’t taken the bus yet. A couple weeks ago, I had a networking eventfor school and decided to take the bus so I didn’t have to worry about parking,or having that extra beer.

I mapped out my route, including the walk to and from thebus, and headed out the door with change in hand. When I got off the bus, I discovered theroute Google sent me on went down the darkest street known to man. It was unsafe in the sense that it was pitchblack, downhill, and I was in heels.

I think you can guess how this ended. I made it about 2/3 of the way down thestreet, walking as carefully as possible, when I hit a bump in the sidewalk andcrashed to the grown, skinning my knee.

Needless to say, I won’t be walking that route again. At least not at night in heels.

Guest Post: Evolving Revolver

2011-12-20T07:48:00.000+11:00

While I'm travelling home for the holidays, I thought I'd leave you with some stories and words of wisdom from some of my favourite bloggers. I have been reading Juliet's blog, Evolving Revolver, for years and have often felt that we were living strange parallel lives. She was an expat and unemployed and single. I was an expat, unemployed and single - was there no end to the similarities! She met a boy. I got a job. She got a job, I met a a boy.

My point being that I simply adore her and am so honoured that she would decide to share the story how she met her boy (never told on her blog!) here on mine.

Hello to everyone in Decoybetty-land! It’s a pleasure to bevisiting the land down under, especially because up here in Philadelphia it isdecidedly not summertime. I amenjoying the warmth, to say the least.

When Deidre asked me to guest post I thought to myself “Whatthe hell can I write about?” I went to searching, looking through my blogstatistics trying to discover what it is that you people love to read about.According to my statistics most of my traffic comes from the keyword searches‘Unicorns’, ‘Rainbows’ and ‘Unicorns and Rainbows’. The trapper keeper unicorn brings the most kids to the yardit seems.

While that’s very special, it was not what I wanted to writeabout here. I peeled back the layers of my thoughts and decided, finally, thatI would just tell you a little about myself. I’ll tell a story, because I amgood at telling stories.

This one starts in Paris, where I lived for two years. It iswhere I met my husband and where I learned French. Coincidentally, this is the story about how I met my husband.

I almost didn't go out that evening. It was still winter inParis and I was undoubtedly (as always) broke. But my friend Jane coaxed me outof my little apartment in the suburbs for a book signing. She promised it wouldbe fun and, indeed, there was only one table to be had when we arrived.

Husband was supposed to be at the J-Go much earlier but l’apero at his apartment went wellover the original reservation time. When he got to the restaurant thetable he had reserved for he and his friends wasn't available. Theyhad to wait.

That's how we ended up next to each other, not at allinterested in each other's existence until the moment Sofia and Elissa noticedme

"Exuse me," Sofia approached our table boldly,"but are you single?"

Both Jane and I laughed uncomfortably.

"Um.....yes." We both replied. "Why?"

Sophia explained that it was Husband's birthday and the goalfor the night was to get him a date. Didn't I think he was cute?"Sure, yeah." I replied.

Back at his table, the same question was asked. "She'scute, right?"

"Yeah, she's cute." Husband replied.

When their table was finally called Husband and his friendsstarted to shuffle to the upstairs dining room. As the last of them turnedtheir back to go upstairs, Husband appeared before me, blushing.

"So," he started stumbling, "I have theimpression that I should ask for your number....”

"Sure, why not!" I blushed. I shook a little as Igave him a card from my purse.

Husband seemed completely surprised that I was actuallydoing it.

"He seems nice," Jane said to me when theboisterous party had cleared.

"Yeah. Probablytoo nice. I'm sure I would hate that." I paused, thinking."That's probably the kind of guy I should, like, marry, but I probably won't."

The night wore on. Somehow we missed each other when he and hisfriends left, but thankfully Husband had texted me during the evening: at somepoint he lost my number.

The next Wednesday when we met again it was a littlelike a blind date for both of us. When I walked across Place du Chatelet(late, as always) my own pleasant surprise was mirrored on his face.Thank god we're two good looking people! (Or maybe we weren't as drunk as wethought we were?)

One date and one knee buckling kiss later, Husband and Iwere hooked on each other. It was the beginning of something neither of us hadexpected - the beginning of a great adventure: It was the beginningof our lives together.

Guest Post: Why Girls are Weird

2011-12-16T07:56:00.000+11:00

While I'm travelling home for the holidays, I thought I'd leave you with some stories and words of wisdom from some of my favourite bloggers. This is Krysten from Why Girls are Weird. I've been reading Krysten's blog for nearly a year and every day I'm just so impressed with the amount of positivity and strength that she exudes on her blog.

Today Krysten is sharing some excellent blogging tips.

I've been blogging for a really long time, since 2001. 10 years. The blog world has changed so much since then and so has my blogging style. My current blog has been around since 2007 and it amazes me how far it has come and how far I've come as well.

I've been called a blogging celebrity, which can be a little embarrassing. I certainly don't think that of myself! But I appreciate all the readers I have and it amazes me every day that so many people want to know about me and my life. A lot of people ask me how on earth my blog has become so popular and today I'm going to share with you all some of my blogging secrets.

Krysten's Secrets to a Successful Blog

Comment – If someone leaves a comment on your blog, comment back. The way I see it, if someone it taking time out of their day to read your blog then you should take time to do the same thing. There are days when I get over 100 comments on a post and I make sure to return each of them.
Social Media – I tell you what, when Twitter first came on the scene it sounded insanely lame. But these days I adore tweeting back and forth with my blog friends and readers. For me it's personal and part of my blog. I let people know about giveaways, I tweet about my day, I ask for advice and I give advice. It's a good way to get your name out to not just new readers but to companies as well.
Find A Schedule – Losing my job in early 2010 might just have been the best thing to ever happen to my blog because it helped me to find a blogging schedule. I was so bored being at home that I started blogging every day. These days I still post every day (although I may start taking weekends off) and I schedule my posts for a certain time each day. Readers know what to expect from me and I think that's a good thing.
Be You – This is the most important secret and without it I just don't think a blogger can be successful. Don't lie. Don't pretend to be someone you aren't. Be real. Sure, I do giveaway posts and memes but I also make sure to post about me and my life – the good, the bad and the ugly. I've gone through a job loss, loss of friends, loss of a marriage and I've posted about it all. I want readers to know ME and because of this I've found some really great friends through shared experiences. People want to find someone they can relate to and the most relatable you can be is by being real.

Blogging is such an important part of my life and I love this world. Hopefully my words can find my way to YOU and something I've said can strike you in the way that other bloggers have hit me.

Now go out there and blog.

Wish Outloud: Choices.

2011-12-12T07:50:00.001+11:00

It's time for the Wish! {out loud} link up! I participated a few weeks ago and got some fantastic ideas about how to get started in the career that I want - I haven't really gotten my act enough together to start acting on any of them yet. But soon I will! I promise.

I've loved checking out the other ladies wishes and providing advice where I can.

(As an aside, I just saw this blogger map here at Latte Love that might help Cup 'a Hot Chocolate work on her blogger meet up project! If you know of bloggers in Florida hook 'em up with Cup 'a, ok?) (Also, I signed up on the blogger map).

OK, on to my wish. Nearly every night before we fall asleep, Inspector Climate and I talk about well everything and anything while we cuddle. It's my favourite part of the day. Last night, we were talking about how there seems to be a prevailing trait in people that instead of being happy for others when something happens to them they just ask "why not me?" instead (I'm guilty of it too! But I like to think I, and actively try to, save the woe for my blog and NOT the person's face).

But it goes beyond expressing jealousy (and trust, when I say that I think being envious of someone isn't a total bad thing, but it needs to be well balanced with being happy for them too!) instead of joy to seemingly judging people for how they spend their time or money. "How do you have time to go to yoga 5 times a week? I just don't have the time for that" they say accusingly. "How do you have the time to read so many books?"

"How do you afford to travel?"

"How do you ____ to _____?"

So, for today, I wish that we take a look at some of the choices we make and ask ourselves if that's how we really enjoy spending our money and our time. If we find ourselves asking these how do they do that type questions, perhaps it's time to take a look at what we could do make that happen for ourselves.

My two jealous hotspots are travel and when people get new jobs. I've taken to this thought process regarding the latter: "Yay! Judy got a new job. That's so great for her. She's been looking for one for so long. This one sounds awesome and is just what she wanted. I've been unemployed forever. I hope that happens for me someday. What did Judy do that I'm not doing? She volunteered more? She has better connections? etc"

What are some choices that you make that if you made a slightly different choice you'd be spending your time or money more how you wish you did? (Uh, does that make any sense at all?).

Honeymoon Day 2: Doing Everything Iririki has to offer - which to be honest was a lot.

2011-12-10T07:09:00.000+11:00

One of the joys of flying in a 10 seater plane to an island with an extremely small airport is that the pilot can just decide to change the time of the flight by two hours and you only have to leave for the airport 15 minutes prior to the flight.

Our flight had been scheduled to take off at 10 am, and we had been excited to wake up early and spend the morning exploring the Evergreen Resort in Tanna before heading back to Port Vila. The resort was supposed to have an awesome beach with some spectacular snorkelling that we were quite excited about checking out. However, after the volcano tour we were told that the pilot had decided that we were to leave at 8 am instead and we should be ready to head the airport at 7:45. Easy Peasy.

As a giant aside, Oneika of Oneika the Traveller fame asked in my last post about malaria. There is malaria on Tanna and some of the outer islands of Vanuatu but not on Efate (except in the swampy bits that no one goes too) where we spent the majority of our time. We had asked a travel doctor their opinion on whether we should take anti-malaria tablets or not and he had not seemed that concerned seeing as we'd only be in Tanna for one night. So Inspector Climate and I opted to use a great of precaution with long sleeves, long pants, and serious bug spray instead of taking the tablets which have a range of pretty serious side effects. I probably got 2 bug bites the whole time I was there and Inspector Climate didn't get any.

We got up had a breakfast of tropical fruit. Hello, mangoes, you are delicious. Does anyone know what that white fruit is? I was not a fan.

And so ended our whirl wind 18 hour trip to the island of Tanna and we were headed back to the capital. Inspector Climate and I, after much deliberation, decided to stay at Iririki Resort. Iririki is teeny island about a two minute ferry ride away from the hustle and bustle of down town Port Vila.

This is a crazy lamp that resides in reception. Crazy - Awesome that is.

After we checked into our room, which had a balcony looking out on to this:

We took a little stroll around the island, about 15 minutes to circumnavigate, and passed the island's little beach where I finally got to say I've sunbathed in Vanuatu - life list, Check!

While we were near the beach, we hired some snorkel gear (free), and went back to room to change and get ready to do a bit of snorkelling off of Iririki. Did it compare to the snorkelling that we did in Lady Elliot - no, no it did not. Although we did find Nemo. Coral wasn't nearly as vibrant nor was the range of fishies nearly so diverse. However, it was still tons of fun and still quite ~~terrifying~~ magical to be able to breathe underwater.

What I didn't realise I'd spend a lot of my doing on my honeymoon is napping. But nap I did. A lot. And so after our swim, we came back to our room and napped.

One of the coolest things about Port Vila is that any minivan with a B on the license plate is a bus that you can hail. It will take you anywhere; around the city it's a $1.50 (or 150 vatu) per person per ride. There are some drawbacks of course, they take whoever was in the bus first to their destination so you might go in the complete opposite direction of where you're heading before looping back to where you're going. I liked to think of it as a bonus tour of the city. The other thing that is nice about it is that locals use them too - so if you're not the only one in the bus you get to see where the locals go and where they live. This is always an important part of travel for me, sure I like to stay in my plush hotel room with the enormous bed and numerous pools, but I also want to see where the locals live, what they eat, and how they get to where they're going.

We'd heard that there was a good Thai restaurant in Port Vila (which is known for it's food), and Thai is a cuisine I can generally find something to eat. So we hailed a bus and asked for the Thai restaurant...be ye not so stupid. We ended up at a Thai restaurant that was completely devoid of customers besides us. The food wasn't great (but it was gluten free and fishless/meatless so I dug in). Note to self, find out names of restaurants before asking for directions.

I'd like to thank Iririki resort for giving me a discount on our deluxe pool view room because I'm a blogger. I'd recommend for all of you stay there. The staff was fantastic, helpful, and determined to make our stay as enjoyable as possible.

Dessert Day Raspberry "Macarons" and Vanilla Bean Ice Cream

2011-12-08T07:47:00.001+11:00

Yesterday, I had the pleasure of baking with the delightful Melbourne on My Mind (MoMM) from A Quick Succession of Busy Nothings. A couple of weeks ago she posted about making Macarons and I immediately was like "you're so brave" and then I posted about making ice cream she was like "I've never tried that!" and so Dessert Day was born. The day that you try making desserts that are intimidating for whatever reason (in my case Macarons = scary egg whites).

And also we're both unemployed.

(And care not for fabulous food presentation - but for yumminess)

So when MoMM suggested that we make these Raspberry and Chocolate macarons, I was on board. First of all they are naturally gluten free, which is ALWAYS a bonus.

I met MoMM at the train station because I'm terrible at giving directions to my apartment. As I walked to meet her, I noticed three Oxfam street fundraisers standing on the corner talking to each other and somewhere deep in my gut (maybe it was Jorge?) told me we were going to meet again. Soon (Foreshadowing?).

As we walked back to my apartment chatting about all things inane, and Oxfam fundraiser named Scott tried to pull us over on the sidewalk. I've been Scott. I've done street fundraising and I know deep down that they aren't particularly injured when you just brush by them or say no thank you. And I know that the Scotts of the street fundraising world ask questions like "what's your name" and "what are you doing today" because they are profitable ways for them to meet their quotas. But it doesn't make me like it any more. So when he asked me what my name is, I replied:

"No time! We've got important things to do! It's DESSERT DAY!"

And then we giggled (which by the way, you can check out MoMM's post about Dessert Day here.)

I knew that MoMM and I would be great baking buddies because when she sent me the recipe she was like "we'll make this, but instead of jam we'll use raspberry essence. And instead of white chocolate we'll use dark."

And they were delicious.

But as you can see less Macaron-y and more Meringue-y with chocolate smooshed between them. And when has that ever been a bad idea? Never.

I'm not sure what went awry. Did we beat the eggs too long? With our skills - I doubt it. Does the recipe have some errors in it - I don't want to diss the recipe writer...but maybe.

The point is this. Dessert Day is awesome. And I'd highly recommend you grab a friend and bake.

What would you make if you weren't intimidated by baking?

Also, if you're keeping track at home (and I know you are) this is recipe 13 on my life list.

Honeymoon Day 1, Tanna and Mt Yasur

2011-12-06T13:48:00.001+11:00

I flew into Port Vila, Vanuatu late on a Friday night to meet Inspector Climate for our honeymoon. The next morning I woke up to this view outside our hotel room. Oh Hello, Vanuatu.

One of the Vanuatu locals that Inspector Climate had met on a different work trip and told him that we HAD to fly over to Tanna, one of Vanuatu's southern islands, and go to the top of Mt Yasur, an active volcano. I've always had a love of all things geological and so I knew it was something we must do. We did a bit of research and decided to go with Unity Airlines who offer overnight tours of the volcano.

To get to the Tanna, we had to fly in a ten seater plane. Which was obviously a good opportunity to be a bit silly. And we never miss a opportunity for silliness (It's in our vows).

Once we landed, we had a brief minute to put on some bug spray (Tanna has had cases of Malaria) and some long sleeves and jump into a truck to take us up the volcano. It was a long drive and outrageously bumpy, but incredibly beautiful. We drove through little villages of thatched roofed (roofed? Really? Rooved?) houses. They all had little gardens with fruit trees (bananas? Mangoes? Anyone?) and small fields with corn and other things growing everywhere. Not to mention free range chickens, pigs and cows wandering about along the road.

After about an hour we arrived at what Inspector Climate and I took to calling "the moon." It was an ash field that lay at the foot of the volcano (pictured behind us). I expected the ash to be really fine between my fingers, but it was actually quite coarse like sand. (I may look like I'm in pajamas...but I swear those are linen ~~pajamas~~ pants)

The volcano was shrouded in clouds and steam. We were sitting in back of the pick up truck on some "cushioned" bench seats (bumpy!), but it was so cool to watch steam coming out of the road as we drove up and up and up!

I wish I could have taken a photograph that actually encapsulated what it felt like to standing on the rim of a volcano. However, none of them came out very well. The weather left this giant cloud of steam and occasionally sulphur just hovering over the volcano which made it impossible to capture the size of the volcano. While we were up there, for nearly an hour or more (my watch broke prior to this trip), we could hear the bubbling and gurgling of the volcano and occasionally there would be a big eruption and we could see red sparks flying up from the depths of the cloud.

It was a completely indescribable experience. It was magical to feel the wind whipping around the volcano, the only downside was the incredibly pungent, sulphur smells like rotten eggs and while the scenery was breathtaking the smell was certainly a bit overwhelming as well (breathcatching? breathstifling?).

After a long drive back, in the back of the truck, Inspector Climate and I returned to our hotel in Tanna called Evergreen for a late dinner (well late for me, dinner past about 7 is late for me. Sad but true). For Inspector Climate, it was the best meal he'd had the whole time he was Vanuatu. He had local fish cooked in a banana leaf with vegetables and rice. I had just the vegetables and rice (success, the gluten free vegetarian had food to eat too!).

We spent the night under this mosquito netting in a small little cottage (can it be a cottage sans kitchen?)

Again, Inspector Climate using every opportunity to be silly:

I'd like to thank Unity Airlines for giving us a discount on this trip because of this blog. It was an absolute pleasure to fly with them and be part of their tour and I'd highly recommend them to anyone who is planning a trip to Vanuatu. You cannot go to Vanuatu without going to Mt Yasur, I didn't write the rules, btiches.

It's the start of something new, maybe. It's definitely pretty though.

2011-12-05T06:49:00.001+11:00

After NaBloPoMo, a blogging break of even a day seems like a huge and tremendous extended break from the blog. And here it's been nearly five days! I know. See first I was busy honeymooning (more on that later!), and then I had to leave my blog alone while the fantastic Kyla from Kyla Roma and Freckled Nest Designs launched my new design!

So please stop on by to check it out.

Working with Kyla was an absolute pleasure. When she first asked me what I wanted my blog to look like, I think I might have said "like a groovy Motown song" which is an image, sure. But certainly didn't give her a lot of visual images to go by in creating a design! And yet, she made this! Which is only to say, she's amazing at what she does.

A big thank you to Kyla (who if you're not reading her blog, by the way, you should be!).

Welcome to the new digs, I'll still be here, verbose as ever! But in the near(ish) future I'll be launching a bit of a sponsorship program (you interested?).

Take a look around, bitches.

I've missed you, how've you been?

NaBloPoMo Day 30: The End

2011-11-30T22:08:00.000+11:00

Bitches, it's over. I've survived another NaBloPoMo and here are some of the lessons I've learned:

1. sometimes lowering quality for quantity in the short term, boosts quality in the long term.
2. getting married during NaBloPoMo gives more material than normal (Note to self, plan more weddings for November).
3. staying up past your bedtime to post is never a good idea.

NaBloPoMo Day 29: Am I a fraud?

2011-11-29T19:27:00.000+11:00

I was reading this post over at Citizen of the Month about a post he wrote that caused the misconception that he is a short man when really he is six feet tall.

This got me thinking if there any misconceptions about me because of this blog.

But the truth is I really do ask Inspector Climate on nearly a daily basis if we can get a pet tiger.

I'm all of 5'4 and a half. Which someone once told me is perfectly average height.

I don't actually hate my hair - it's just unruly and I find that humorous, so I jest about it.

I'm a fussy eater. But I like nearly all vegetables except eggplant (it's a deadly nightshade people, A DEADLY nightshade) and cooked mushrooms (slimy) and I'm not sold on chard (Swiss or otherwise).

I honestly don't own a single pair of jeans. I do wear khakis the majority of time and if not khakis cords. and if not cords, pajamas.

That's the real truth.

What are some misconceptions people might have about you?

NaBloPoMo Day 28: My body is a wonderland...for parasites

2011-11-28T14:30:00.000+11:00

I quite adore travelling, but one of the struggles I have revolves around food. On a good day, at home I'm a picky eater. I want what I want when I want it and other wise I'd rather not eat. Regardless of that issue being a gluten free vegetarian is, I'll just say it, a pain in the ass when travelling. In Turkey, I spent many a meal sobbing as my option was hummus, olives, and roasted peppers which on a normal day would be delicious but I needed "real" food.

Anyway, on top of that, I get parasites whenever I travel to a slightly less developed country: Fiji and India are two examples. And it's made me really paranoid.

This time, I've been taking an herbal parasite remedy that taken prior to travel and a little bit after is supposed to make your tummy an inhospitable place for parasites.

I'm also coming prepared with two boxes of gluten free granola bars in case there is literally nothing to eat while I'm in Vanuatu.

The hardest part is going to be the inner struggle in terms of all the tropical fruit that will be available (I hear it's mango season in Vanuatu) that my mind will tell me not to eat because it could carry some parasites and my tummy will beg to consume because MANGO OFF A TREE. Dilemma.

Do you face any travel issues? Let's commiserate.

NaBloPoMo Day 27: Wish {Out loud}

2011-11-27T07:13:00.000+11:00

So, a few days ago I was reading one of my favourite new blogs Cup 'a Hot Chocolate is starting a link up Wish {Outloud}:

The idea being that if you write about your wish and put it out there then this community of bloggers that we so love can offer any help with their years of experience and expertise to help you take steps to make your wish come true!

Well, this sounds pretty brilliant to me right?

And so, here is my wish:

I want to make a career of combining social media work and climate change. Blogging and not for profits. And I don't really know how that looks like. Whether that is blogging about sustainable food, energy efficiency, or just being a part of a not for profit as their social media person.

To be honest, I can't really see how it would look because it seems so foreign to me. You see, after I had the two job interviews that then kind of didn't pan out. Well, interviewing for those jobs made me wish that is just what I did or a living. And so I wish for that!

What do you wish for?

NaBloPoMo Day 26: Inspector Climate left on our honeymoon without me...Awkward.

2011-11-26T20:57:00.000+11:00

A week ago, Inspector Climate left for our honeymoon. I on the other hand...stayed in Melbourne until yesterday when I joined him. You see, when we planned this holiday it was just that. A holiday. An excuse to get away since Inspector Climate's work was paying him to go anyway, I'd fly when the conference was over and we'd spend an extra few days there. But then, we decided to get married. And it just happened that our getting married ceremony was just a few weeks before our already booked holiday - kismit!

And so there I was kissing my new husband goodbye as he left without me. And here's the thing about goodbyes - you'd think I'd be amazing at them. As an expat and a traveller goodbye is something that just happens a lot. People come in and out of your life as you navigate to different continents, university degrees, and suburbs and cities.

Each visit home is ended with another tearful goodbye at the airport and an open ended question of "when will I see you again?"

While this was just a short-term goodbye, a mere week before I hopped on a plane to meet him there were still tears. Puddles on his shirt, snot everywhere, hugs that were not long enough and kisses that made me forget I was in a public place at all.

I can only last so long in these goodbyes that wrench my heart (short and long term goodbyes), and eventually just have to walk away, through security at the air port, down the escalator at the train station, or simply walk away. To linger just seems to cause more - more emotion, more tears, and more nervous tension about what happens once we part ways.

What's your goodbye strategy?

NaBloPoMo Day 25: Noms, Drunk, Kitchens, Seriously, what is not to love about this?

2011-11-25T12:30:00.000+11:00

A couple of weeks ago when I was having (yet another) really crap day induced by Jorge (God, Jorge get a life, man) I found out about My Drunk Kitchen. Are you watching My Drunk Kitchen?

I thought this would be an appropriate time to show some videos because it's Thanksgiving and I think most of us have spent a lot of time drinking, in the kitchen, and getting our noms on....

So first, I'd like you to watch Hannah Hart's music video about eating...

And then, you should probably watch my favourite episode:

Enjoy

NaBloPoMo Day 24: Thankful for Kimbirdy and Annie's mac n cheese.

2011-11-24T17:42:00.001+11:00

Yesterday was a pretty hard day for me, I had huge highs and lows as I faced the prospect of unemployment again. So much possibility for finding the job that is going to make me feel like I'm making quantitative and effective change for the environment and fill with me so much joy. And so much rejection, heartbreak, and the sound of hopes crashing (which I'm pretty sure sounds like a dog crying while a glass breaks and there is a dramatic da da duum sound).

And not only that but I've just been waiting for Friday to come so that I can be on a plane on the way to honeymoon land and I'm just so excited that time on Wednesday crawled by. So, when I got home when the day was finally over and opened my mail box to see a package slip, I just couldn't WAIT to go to the post office today to pick it up!

So after yoga today, I RAN to the post office to pick it up. The amazing Kimbirdy from Fill Your Well had sent me a package! Oh blogging world, you never cease to surprise and delight. And if just a box that has been sent around the world by someone who is thinking about you isn't enough (and trust me, just the box is enough), inside was a gift so incredibly thoughtful that my heart just flutters every time I think about it.

Inside was boxes of Annie's Gluten Free Mac N Cheese which is just the best comfort food EVER for me. And Reese's Peanut Butter cups which make any day better.

Kim, you have made my day and that card is the best card I think I have ever received EVER.

Excuse me, while I go and cuddle with Annie - I think we need some alone time, we've been apart for so long.

So, I'm not going to actually make them now, because Inspector Climate isn't home and it doesn't seem right to be selfish about mac n cheese this early in our marriage.

NaBloPoMo Day 23: Officially Unemployed (again)

2011-11-23T20:39:00.001+11:00

Today my short term contract ended at my current position. And so, I'm unemployed again.

NaBloPoMo day 22: Jorge, you little prankster

2011-11-22T14:01:00.001+11:00

About two weeks ago, I started seeing an OBGYN who we were hoping was going to be like "Let's get Jorge out RIGHT NOW" while the cast from Scrubs sang a song in the background and I was wheeled into the surgery room. But alas, apparently although it is "only key hole" surgery it takes at least two weeks to recover and can take up to six weeks. Plus, my doctor wasn't convinced that Jorge was causing all my pain. Sure he was fucking with my period, but those pain attacks where I can barely walk for 24 hours afterwards and I'm exhausted for at least 48? The doc wasn't convinced that little Jorge could be found guilty for those, too.

So, he sent me out to get some blood work done (I had to go to another person to get my blood taken. Because obviously, a doctor couldn't DARE take your blood or have you pee in a cup while you're, you know, THERE SEEING THE DOCTOR. Ahem, I'm so annoyed by this system, no one seems to know or do anything themselves and I keep having to get referred to different places over and over again for things like blood work - is this how it is where you live or is this an Australian phenomenon). My blood work came back funky. Apparently, my bilirubin was acting out. Oh, you silly bilirubin (I just like saying bilirubin. Go ahead, say it. I promise your mouth will enjoy it. Bilirubin!). So I had the tests again.

And then my OBGYN wanted to see me again, only to refer me to someone else because he was concerned about my kidney and liver function due to said bilirubin (biliruben!) (how bored are you guys right now?) and insisted that I go get an ultrasound to check on said organs.

Which by the way an external ultrasound on my upper tummy seemed WAY more personal than the internal ultrasound sans pants. I don't know why that is, perhaps because of the internal ultrasound involved no technician - patient touching where as the external ultrasound there was contact. I don't have all the answers, ya'll.

(also, as yet another aside, Inspector Climate has been coming with me to get the scary internal ultrasounds because he's lovely like that. And he couldn't believe that all these men were accompanying their partners to get ultrasounds. He kept saying "All of these women can't have such loyal boyfriends" it wasn't until I pointed out that they were ALL PREGNANT and that their partners were there to see the images of their baby that it clicked for him).

But because my OBGYN only deals with lady bits, he wanted me to see some one who understood my organs (um, which I thought would be any doctor, but apparently I was mistaken as my OBGYN seemed hesitant to even pose POSSIBLE diagnosis because he was not an "expert", whatever doc, you went to medical school, I'm sure they talked about bilirubin a couple times).

(I know I can't believe I'm still talking about this either).

And so, I told yet another doctor about Jorge, the possibility of their being another cause to my pain attacks aside from Jorge (Bilirubin!). And yet another doctor who sent me home telling me I was fine, Jorge seemed to be the sole problem and that I might just be one of those people who have funky bilirubin (ie people with Gilberts Disease) (bilirubin). He was all "there are no signs of liver disease (hadn't known that was a possibility!) and you're organs are fine."

Oh Jorge, you had everyone going there for a while. You really did.

I know I seem a bit mean to my doctor here, but he actually is a really nice guy and I think he is being super thorough, that doesn't mean that I don't get frustrated with all the tests and referrals particularly for things like blood tests which I feel like any doctor could take my blood without sending me somewhere else first, surely they learned THAT in med school?

(bilirubin)

NaBloPoMo day 21: Ten on Last Tuesday

2011-11-21T21:14:00.001+11:00

I was looking for some blog inspiration tonight and found these Ten on Tuesday Questions on My Life in a Nutshell and promptly decided to join in, only a week late!

Apparently last week’s questions were provided by Lauren From Texas, and are hosted over at Roots and Rings.

1. What are your pantry staples?
Rice, pasta, gluten free flour, quinoa, sesame seeds

2. What are your refrigerator staples?
Butter, cheddar cheese, yogurt, and salad makings.

3. You already look like Heidi Klum (or your favorite supermodel). Now, what are the top three non-physical things you would change about yourself?
I'd worry less, dream bigger, and use my good looks to convince a scientist to get working on teleportation.

4. What’s holding you back from your dream job? (If you already have your dream job, how did you get there?)
oh, so many things. What is my dream job? I'm not sure. That's probably the biggest factor.

5. You have $500 to spend but it has to be on one item only. Go.
Probably a yoga pass for several months.

6. What is something that you are embarrassed to admit you buy on a regular basis?
I cannot think of a single thing. When I was a teenager I used to get super embarrassed whenever I had to go to the grocery store because my dad would want me to buy pounds (literally POUNDS) of carrots for our horses.

7. What’s in/on your bed every night?
When i didn't live with Inspector Climate, my bed was my desk. So, my computer some note books, probably a pen. Now, Inspector Climate, a sheet, two pillows, a comforter, a blanket.

8. What is a non-necessity item that, no matter how expensive it gets or how tight your budget if, you will always find room for it?
Avocados

9. What is the weirdest sandwich you’ve ever made?
Well, I don't think I've ever really done the weird sandwich thing, but I do love slabs of butter with nutritional yeast on my toast. Holy Mother of Moses - it's good stuff.

10. Would you rather: Be banned from Pinterest forever, but gain a million captive Twitter followers; or, never get on Facebook again but gain five thousand blog readers?
I'm already not on facebook so definitely the second one!

NaBloPoMo Day 20: On a scale of one to ten, I'm apparently adorable?

2011-11-20T21:13:00.001+11:00

Have you taken my survey? No? Well, you've got until 30 Nov to be eligible to win the Tim Tams. If you have taken the survey, thank you it's a huge boost to my ego to hear that all ya'll think I'm adorable.

I thought I'd spend sometime today answering some of your questions.

Can we do a blog swap or something?

Yes, yes we can! Just email me (email address is located in the "did you know" section to your right) or leave a comment if you'd be interested in swapping blogs or doing guest posts, or having me do a guest post. Any of those things! I guess my only real requirement for that kind of thing is that I want to swap with people who write about their lives, their travels, their life lessons. I think it'd be inappropriate for example to have a very generic post about what a generic person might do should they travel to London versus your personal experience travelling to the UK living it. Does that make sense?

Dude, you write about being unemployed all the time, how do you afford to travel and have a lawyer on retainer? (this is not a direct quote - the person did not say dude).

First of all, that having a lawyer on retainer thing, that was a joke. I do have an immigration lawyer who I paid a flat fee to (on top of the cost of the visa) to process my visa. I made this choice because I knew I'd freak out and hyperventilate if I didn't have someone making sure I did all the right forms and stuff. And for the peace of mind, I kind of think the lawyer was worth every penny. However, I do not have to pay him every time I see him (thank goodness, because we've had SEVERAL meetings).

Second, I have been EMployed for about 16 months out of the last 24, but they've all been short term contracts (ok, well the first one wasn't but I was miserable and needed to quit fast like lightening). As such, I have been essentially constantly looking for work since November 2009, but have also had some income coming in as well. And yes, it is exhausting.

So, I afford to travel because I save basically every penny I earn that doesn't go into rent and food and yoga (my three necessities). Inspector Climate and I made a very thorough budget when we moved in together. Combined with the fact that we probably go out to eat or the movies or to the baseball about once or twice a month and that's it - we're pretty frugal people.

Do you have a question for me? A story you'd like to hear (maybe the super awkward way I told Inspector Climate I didn't want to have his babies (or anyone's babies))? How Jorge's doing? About Billiruben? Anything? Please do not hesitate to ask!

NaBloPoMo Day 19: A Mo to remember

2011-11-19T22:36:00.001+11:00

Last weekend, Inspector Climate and I went to the first home series for the Melbourne Aces baseball team. We rocked our Red Sox caps because that's what we do.

And then, I fell in love with this guy:

That's Dominic Ramos who has the most awesome Movember Mo ever. Well done, Ramos. Well done.

How do you like your mo? Handlebar (a la Ramos)? Pirate curl? The Lip EyeBrow*? The Porn Star?

*Not its real name...probably. But you know the thin line moustache? Looks like a plucked eye brow?

Updated! NaBloPoMo day 18: Pumpkin Icecream Experiment

2011-11-18T16:04:00.001+11:00

I've been having a craving for something pumpkin-y for the past couple of weeks. It's the combination of my homesickness and the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday which feels so out of place right now in Australia as summer is nearly upon us!

Anyway, the point is I woke this morning thinking I was going to make pumpkin pie. But it's 91 degrees out, and slaving in the kitchen didn't seem like a great idea. So, using some inspiration from Smitten Kitchen and some experimenting, I decided to make ice cream. It's in the machine as we speak whirling away. I'll let you know tomorrow how tasted.

But right now, I'll tell you how I made it.

So using Smitten Kitchen's method to make a super smooth pie...

I took some homemade pureed frozen pumpkin I had in the freezer and put it on the stove to defrost it.

Then in a small bowl I added 1 teaspoon of cinnamon, 1/2 a teaspoon of ginger, and 1/4 teaspoon of nutmeg.

Once the pumpkin was well defrosted (not pictured below), I added the spices and a tablespoon of molasses to it and let it bubble like lava for about 5 minutes while I stirred occasionally.

Then, I took it off the heat and added 1 cup of milk, and 2 cups of cream. I combined it well and then let it cool in the fridge for several hours.

After it had chilled for several hours, I got my blender out dumped in one can of sweetened condensed milk, a splash of vanilla, and the pumpkin mixture and blended it together.

Now it's in the ice cream maker and if my little taste of the mixture is anything to judge it by it's going to taste like pumpkin pie ice cream. DELICIOUS.

Anything you're cooking up this weekend?

For anyone keeping track this is number 12 on my life list!

Updated: It was delicious. It tasted like pumpkin pie and was smooth and silky. It was seriously fabulous. Even Inspector Climate quite enjoyed it, which is surprising because, from my experience, most Australians think pumpkin in sweet things is just plain weird. Pumpkin pie? That sounds GROSS. However, all that have tried it, loved it.

NaBloPoMo Day 17: Signed, Sealed, Hopefully Delivered soon.

2011-11-17T16:21:00.001+11:00

Remember the story of how Inspector Climate and I got engaged, unofficially? Oh, fingerprinting, how funny you are. And then remember when my lawyer INSISTED that I could get it done before November and so I called and they said I COULD and then said I couldn't? Fun times.

Well, the day after our getting married ceremony Inspector Climate and I celebrated by first going to a doctor's appointment to get some answers regarding my painful abdomen (no answers, more questions) and my ovaries (sup Jorge). So that was pretty exciting. Although it was the first time I got to say 'husband' out loud and I quite enjoyed that.

And so, after the doctor's appointment I went and hung out in the city for a while waiting for my next appointment (Ya'll I know how to celebrate a MARRIAGE). The appointment that has been holding me back from finally getting a visa. The appointment that had been such a PAIN IN THE ASS to get: The Finger Printing Appointment.

It happened to be raining that day. Quite heavily. And I had to make my way to a part of Melbourne that I have spent approximately zero time in since moving here 4 years ago (GULP): The World Trade Centre. And so, I walked down there. I got lost in the sidestreet/parking lot (true story), and finally made my way into the finger printing office. After waiting in line for several minutes, where the staff kept saying "you're appointment isn't until 12 so just wait outside and we'll call you shortly." My appointment wasn't until 12 either, so I was fairly certain this is what I'd hear too.

Then, it was my turn and boy did I imagine there to be heaps of hoops and red tap and an obstacle course and some jumps and then I was pretty sure they were going to make me do chin ups (I can only do ONE! ONE!) before they'd let me put finger to paper.

But no. I was about 40 minutes early (see above fears regarding hoops) and they told me they'd be with me in a few minutes. And about 2 minutes later, a woman called me into a room, stuck my fingers on some inky paper and then proceeded to finger print me. After months of hassle, tears, being told yes when they meant no, and having my whole visa process stalled just for this moment, this was it. Anti-climax much?

And so, I've sent them off to the FBI. The lady who did the prints said that they looked fine to her, but she wasn't an expert (um, who is then finger printing lady? who is?). So, while I'll be keeping my fingers crossed that in 6 - 8 weeks (you cannot rush these things people!) the FBI will be all "these are some fantastic fingerprints and you haven't committed a crime!" (I haven't! I swear!) and then I can get my visa, I also am trying to come to terms with the fact that they might not be ok, in which case, I'll have to get them done again.

Which reminds me, I should make an appointment right now - the fingerprinting lady said they were already booked out until February.

NaBloPoMo Day 16: What I Wear Wednesday Episode the third

2011-11-16T19:13:00.001+11:00

Are you ready for ANOTHER fascinating edition of what I wear everyday (sans Tuesday because I felt ill and decided no pictures would be taken that day).

On Thursday I wore...a t-shirt and a black skirt from Patagonia! Now people are very insistent that the little black dress is the most have in every closet. For me it is a simple A-line black skirt. I wear this skirt hiking, I wear it out to dinner, I wear it ALL the time.

Friday I wore, yes the same, black skirt, a gross sweater with that needs to be thrown out, and a blue t-shirt. And a flashbulb for a head.

Inspector Climate LOVES this outfit. This is what I wore on Saturday to yoga. Homemade tie dyed leggings and a t-shirt. Seriously, Inspector Climate asks me most days if I am going to wear these particular yoga pants.

On Sunday I wore, a Scissor Sister's t-shirt and Jcrew Khaki pants. Who is surprised?

On Monday, I felt sick and worked from home in some flannel jim jams and a penguin hoodie, as you do! I can't remember where I purchased either item, but I wear them a lot.

As previously mentioned, no Tuesday photo. But today, Wednesday, I wore ... wait for it... BLACK (did you see that change up coming) khaki pants and a bright orange Lacoste Tee.

NaBloPoMo Day 15: Getting Married, Part 1

2011-11-15T13:42:00.001+11:00

A week ago today, Inspector Climate and I got married.

First things first, thank you so much to Sister Climate for taking all of these photos!!

I don't think it is a secret that I had my reservations about our less intimate than I wanted marriage ceremony. That morning, Inspector Climate and I got ready together and I waited for the butterflies to hit. I waited for the tell tale signs of nervousness to hit: stomach ache, nausea, and irrational grumpiness. I applied make up (looking at the pictures now, possibly too much sparkle around the eyes), Inspector Climate ironed his shirt. I tried on several pairs of shoes before deciding on these. We took the train into the city to meet his family. My biggest fear is that I would say the vows wrong or that they would say something in Australian that I wouldn't understand. No nerves. No fears. Just happiness.

We talked to the celebrant to decide on the very simple and quick ceremony that we wanted. We were going to exchange rings (I'm still wearing my engagement ring until our second wedding). And then we walked into the room hand in hand and stood in front of a large wooden desk in the Old Treasury Building in Melbourne, which is located amongst a selection of other "old" (by Australian standards) buildings.

And so. There we were. Standing in front of Inspector Climate's grandparents, parents, Sister Climate, and Sister Climate's boyfriend. And my friend Jess.

Here's a hot tip for any Justice of the Peaces/Celebrants out there - learn the names of the bride and groom. My middle name is not Terry. But for the moment, let's pretend it is. To get married in Australia, you must say the bride's (and groom's) full name. Deidre Terry Decoybetty. And yet, the celebrant could not pronounce it. Deidre Terrorist Decoybitty? Terr-or-or-orist Dick-oyBitty? To the point where Inspector Climate and I had to step in and say it, but by then Inspector Climate had lost his place in repeating his vows and we had to start over. My feelings aren't hurt that she couldn't pronounce my name, I was just relieved it wasn't me who was making the errors in our vows.

Then it was my turn, my voice quivered as I repeated my part after the celebrant and Inspector Climate smiled down on me as we declared our commitment to loving and caring for each other for ever.

We exchanged rings.

And then we were married! I had waited all day to feel just a smidge of uneasiness, and there was just happiness! (Is there another way to show happiness other than spirit fingers? If there is, please enlighten me!).

After our short (less than ten minutes) ceremony, Inspector Climate's family came up to congratulate us and welcome me to the family. As his grandmother hugged me and cried, I felt so grateful that I had put aside some of my own selfish desires so that Inspector Climate's grandparents could celebrant this day with us. She hugged me so tightly, it made it all so worth it. As we left the building as husband and wife we try to take a jumping photo ... It's blurry, but I kind of like it anyway:

Happy one week anniversary, Inspector Climate. It's been basically just the same as it was before except now I get to awkwardly call you Husband and giggle because it doesn't seem quite real yet.

NaBloPoMo Day 14: Preview to tomorrow's wedding post, SHOES

2011-11-14T20:14:00.001+11:00

Let's talk about Inspector Climate's wedding shoes. They're brown. He wears them to work. They have a hole on the bottom.

Oh, my shoes? Yeah, they're pretty adorable. Urban Outfitters 2003. They're a bit too big but who cares when shoes are that cute? Am I right?

NaBloPoMo Day 13: Overheard on the tram

2011-11-13T20:04:00.001+11:00

I apologise in advance because this post will include a lot of profanity.

"Why are you announcing Franklin St? I hate fucking Franklin St. I'm not getting off at fucking Franklin st. Fuck off. Watch your fucking mouth."

NaBloPoMo Day 12: Haikus

2011-11-12T17:25:00.001+11:00

Knitting sweater for
Inspector Climate's best mate's
baby. It is red.

Remember when I
didn't take a picture on
Sunday? I did. Cute!

NaBloPoMo Day 11: International Cordoroy Day + This has nothing to do with anything.

2011-11-11T17:14:00.001+11:00

Inspector Climate and I have been trying to limit the amount of TV that we watch. Which mostly goes pretty well until I start feeling yucky or sad and then I crave Friends Reruns and anything fluffy.

I love cute cuddly animals. I hate seeing animals in any kind of distress - this makes watching ANY animal show a bit of Russian Roulette. Will I end up crying or clapping my hands in glee over cuteness?

There is a show on Thursdays nights called "baby planet" and ho baby it is all things amazing. Cute baby fuzzy animals that only end in happy stories.

Any time I get to see some of this

From this tumblr

I'm a happy girl.

What do you watch when you're feeling a bit yucky?

NaBloPoMo Day 10: Just Married

2011-11-10T08:02:00.001+11:00

My sister in law takes quite amazing photos when she travels (and she travels, ya'll), and so when she asked us for some hints for our engagement present/getting married gift I knew instantly what we wanted. We wanted her to be our paparazzi for the day.

This weekend, I'll get the rest of the images from our Getting Married ceremony and hopefully be able to weave together a coherent story about our day (spoiler: it was fairly awesome). But until then, I leave you with the one (and only picture) I've seen of us from the day.

I'll also point out that I stole the making a sign for us to hold idea from Andi at My Beautiful Adventures. But more on that later.

(Have you taken my survey yet? Check it out)

NaBloPoMo day 9: What I Wore Wednesday Second Edition

2011-11-09T07:50:00.000+11:00

This week, I'm bringing the blurry edition of What I Wear Wednesday. I'm sorry for that. But I can never remember (ok, that's a lie, I am usually typing away at my computer on my bed in jammies) before Inspector Climate goes to work and thus have to take the pictures in our dimly lit apartment. Again. Sorry.

On Thursday, I wore what I like to call my "Autumn Tree" look. Which is to say, that I was sporting a bright orange Lacoste polo on top and JCrew brown cords on the bottom.

On Friday, I wore JCrew Khakis and a Scissor Sisters t-shirt from their 2006 concert tour. It's true, everyone does want the same thing.

What's that you say? Why yes, on Saturday I did wear the same t-shirt coupled with my JCrew linen pants circa 2007.

Sunday's outfit is missing. Apologies. My guess is I wore khakis and a t-shirt. But I could have mixed it up with a pair of chords from 2004 and ... wait for it... a t-shirt.

On Monday, I sported a Supre cardigan from 2008 and ... khaki pants.

On Tuesday...I got married. Do you like how I just slipped that in there! I hope to have pictures soon, but until then, let's talk about what I wore. Which was a sun dress I bought in Hawaii in 2008 because it was polka dotty and adorable. However, it did not fit me very well around the area of the boobs. My friend Jess who has skills with a needle said she'd fix it easy peasy. And so I left it with her, and then promptly forgot about it until...I wanted to get married. And that is how you turn an old dress into one you've never won on your Getting Married day! I paired it with some white heels with yellow suns and pink birds on them - as you do. That I got from Urban Outfitters in 2003. Those are not shown, as you can see to get the full body shot, I had to stand on my bed.

Which brings us to Wednesday. I am currently wearing (SURPRISE!) a t-shirt from the Taronga Zoo in Sydney (kid sized) and khaki pants. That smile below? That's the "We just got married and have 4 billion people take our picture yesterday, and I'm tired" smile.

As the weather gets warmer you'll see me turning away from khaki pants (I know it doesn't seem possible at the moment) and embracing black skirts.

NaBloPoMo Day 8: Man, I knew we should have gone to that pre-marriage education

2011-11-08T09:24:00.001+11:00

This morning as we get ready to get married, we looked over the paper work one more time. The very informative pamphlet suggests that with the unrealistic portrayals of marriage in tv and movies as well as the very different upbringings people have that pre-marriage counselling can be ideal. And so, I decided to make sure Inspector Climate and I were on the same page before we get hitched in just a few short hours.

"I don't want to have kids, how do you feel about that?"

"Good"

"I like to save money, not spend it"

"Me too"

"We might have to move to the US in a few years"

"Great"

"But in the long run I want to move to Tassie"

"Me too"

"I want to have a baby lion cub"

"No"

"This marriage is off"

"We should have gone to the premartial counselling to learn that exotic pets could be a deal breaker"

"I know, sorry....Ok, fine. How about just kitties and puppies??"

"Yes, we can have kitties and puppies"

"Ok"

"Yay! The wedding's back on!"

NaBloPoMo Day 7: Life List addition

2011-11-07T07:43:00.000+11:00

A few days ago, I was talking to my bestie Anne about how we've never really travelled together. Of course we also both realised that we've got some financial hurdles to overcome before we could embark on any kind of girl's trip. So we're giving ourselves ten years (I know it seems like a long time, but seriously we both need the time to save!). And then we just had to narrow down where we wanted to go.

It had to be somewhere neither of us has been. It also had to be somewhere that our significant others weren't hugely keen on going to either. We talked about Vietnam. But eventually decided that that wasn't the right fit for us.

And then we settled on Chile and Easter Island. Mark your calendars Emily in Chile and Kyle Hepp, ten years from now we'll be visiting!

We were particularly inspired by Oneika's trip the Chilean Atacama salt flats and Andi's trip to Easter Island.

And so to my life list, I add 'Girl's Holiday with Anne!'

Have you ever taken a girl's holiday? Where'd you go?

NaBloPoMo Day 6: Sleeping arrangments

2011-11-06T10:36:00.000+11:00

Like most people, there are parts of my life where I am extremely high maintenance (see food) and parts of my life where I am incredibly low maintenance (see fashion). Inspector Climate on the other hand is extremely low maintenance in nearly all parts of his life. Except one: sleeping. I've talked a lot about his night time escapades but sadly that's really only the tip of the iceberg.

Like most couples, Inspector Climate and I have designated sides of the bed. My bed side table is on the right and his on the left. However, we swap sides of the bed for sleeping every night. It doesn't matter what side we start on, right before we fall asleep Inspector Climate will ~~ask~~ demand "Let's swap sides" and then we have to switch sides of the bed. Every. Night.

He also has strict rules about napping and sleeping (which are very different things, don't you know?). He can nap any where and in basically any position - sitting up, lying on his back, and in all the other ways he can't sleep at night. However, as soon as he deems it sleeping (and trust me it's an arbitrary choice) all the rules change and everything needs to be just so.

Me on the otherhand?

Well, let me just give you an example. Yesterday, I was lying on the couch bemoaning Jorge and saying how I need to take a nap (I'm not sure if it's true or if I'm just using it as an excuse, but I seriously have been needing much more sleep since I began growing something inside me). Inspector Climate was determined to vacuum and so he piled my knitting, Penguin and Baby Penguin on to the couch with me. And I fell asleep while he vacuumed. True story. Inspector Climate then snapped pictures of me sleeping, spooning Penguin, and when he woke me up nearly an hour later giggling at his handiwork.

This is what I call, low maintenance napping:

Do you have any sleeping rules? Any strange sleeping behaviours? Do you have a side of the bed? Do swap sides? Tell me everything!

NaBloPoMo Day 5: What the heck is a Tim Tam?

2011-11-05T08:05:00.000+11:00

Thank you to everyone who has filled out the survey (if you haven't here is a link to take you straight there). I have found a lot of fascinating information from it - mostly that ya'll think I'm adorable and funny. And also that several of you don't know what a tim tam is. This is heartbreaking.

To be fair, I can't eat tim tams because they have the gluten in them. But when I first studied abroad in Australia, I couldn't handle all my friends RAVING about them any more, and made them each buy a box of their favourite flavour and then ate one of each. And then I got really sick from The Gluten (that does not reflect the deliciousness that is the Tim Tam by the way, just the fact that my body doesn't like food that is yummy).

Anyway, Tim Tams are cookies (biscuits or bikkies if you're Australian). They have two cookie like things with soft chocolate, caramel, or other type of flavouring in the middle and then they are surrounded by a coating of chocolate. They come in a multitude of flavours and are made by Arnott's (rumour has it that Pepperidge Farm in the US has been making them as well but only in the classic flavour I think).

Now, if I was a gluten eating individual, I would have bought some tim tams and made a video of me eating them and having a foodgasm - and trust me, I would have enjoyed that more than you would. But it could not be.

So, instead, I'm going to send you over to my pal Kimbirdy who last April wrote a post that changed lives regarding two things close to any Australians heart: Tim Tams + Hot Chocolate = The Tim Tam Slam. I'm leaving you in good hands, my bitches, go and be amazed by the most exported Australian entity*: the tim tam.

*I totally made this up. But after seeing the selection of tim tams that you can buy in the duty free lounge in Australian airports, I totally believe it.

NaBloPoMo Day 4: Recipe! Halva

2011-11-04T07:30:00.000+11:00

Several months ago, when I was working from home a lot, I would watch Channel 10s Everyday Gourmet cooking show most afternoons. I know, I am embarrassed about it now.

One day they had a special guest come on and make Halva and I've been desperate to make it every since. You can check out her recipe here.

A couple of weeks after Inspector Climate and I had moved in together, I insisted that we buy the incredibly large tub of honey (seen below) in preparation for the day when we'd make halva. Months later I finally purchased tahini to complete the very complex ingredients list.

Halva Recipe

1 cup hulled tahini
1 cup honey
some toasted chopped almonds (optional)
toasted sesame seeds (optional)

Mix together honey and halva until it forms a play doh like consistency:

Mix in almonds if using, and next time I don't think I would use them (Inspector Climate didn't like that he had to chew the almonds, but preferred to just let the halva melt in his mouth).

Refrigerate for several hours or overnight. Then form into small balls and roll through the sesame seeds.

Keep them in the refrigerator, they'll last about a month; so they're perfect as "I'm starving but I'm cooking dinner and don't want to eat anything huge" snack.

After I visited Turkey and had tried Halva for the first time, I came home raving about it only to find that my dad used to make it all the time when my brothers were little and before I was born, and then stopped. Thanks dad.

His recipe is a bit different to the one above and next time I make it, I think I'll combine both to develop a more yummy smack.

He uses a bit of powdered milk in his to make them a bit more firm and take the kick out of the sweetness a bit. I think that would really add to this recipe and that is definitely how I am going to make them next time.

Apparently both honey and tahini are aphrodisiac foods and give a boost to women's reproductive systems and hormones.

(I like to think I'm craving it because my ovaries are struggling...but maybe since they seem pretty ace at growing things (I'm talking to you Jorge), I should stop eating these foods?).

Regardless, I find Halva to be quite delicious. Have you had it?

(Hey, have you taken my survey? Go here to check it out - you could win Tim Tams!)

NaBloPoMo Day 3: Help me?

2011-11-03T15:45:00.001+11:00

So a couple of weeks ago, I attended the ProBlogger event in Melbourne. I learned lots of new things. Met lots of new people.

Funny story, a few days after the event my Canadian blog friend Jummy messaged and asked "is that the back of your head?" (scroll down to the last picture) - which both made me so happy that she could recognise me from the back my head and also a bit creeped out (in the best blogging way possible!).

But a couple of the main things I took away were learning more about how my readers (that's you!) connect with this blog, what my readers want and don't want, and a little bit more about them.

If you comment, I probably read your blog and thus know who you are, but if you don't comment, well, I have no idea. So I'm hoping commenters and noncommenters will take a few minutes to feel out this nine question survey.

In fact, if you fill it out and submit your email address I may decide to do a giveaway. I'm thinking a package (or TWO) of Tim Tams. I know. So, please, I beg you to answer these questions.

Create your free online surveys with SurveyMonkey, the world's leading questionnaire tool.

And, I'd love to do one of those posts where I answer all the questions you've ever had about me (or cheese) (or Jorge) (or anything). So go ahead and ask away in the comments.

NaBloPoMo Day 2: What I Wore Wednesday

2011-11-02T07:06:00.000+11:00

I got the inspiration from my pal Teacher Girl, to rock the What I Wore Wednesday posts. Rock obviously being a relative term.

So, I only decided to start doing this (ie taking pictures of) on Sunday, so I only have pictures of my "outfits" (seriously, I say this SOOO loosely) from Sunday night until today.

Let's begin.

Sunday

On Sunday Evening, after getting home from an outdoor picnic I changed into picnic wear on top (Jcrew cardigan circa 2005, and Jcrew long sleeve cotton top circa 2004) and fleecy warm pants on the bottom (Patagonia fleece rhythm pants circa 2006). No, I don't know what's going on with my hair.

Monday

I apologise for our bespeckled mirror (and that wee bit of mid-drift). Sunday I went to yoga, and so I wore a Patagonia yoga top (circa 2004) and Patagonia rhythm yoga pants (2010) - this is my second pair of Patagonia rhythm pants and they aren't as good as the originals, but I clearly love them (as seen below).

Tuesday

Another Yoga day. Another day wearing the same pants (the shame!). However, this time I'm wearing a bright yellow t-shirt. So you know, there is that. It was a birthday gift from my brother...That is all I know.

Wednesday

The LONG awaited khakis. I'm finally headed to work today. Sporting Jcrew khaki pants (2010), and a long sleeve cotton t-shirt from unknown origin. The sweater is really the show stealer though. It is missing a button - which I have yet to fix. It cost about $5 but I've had it for 3 years. It's on it's last legs. But I can't let it go.

NaBloPoMo Day 1: Already biting my thumb at my own plans...

2011-11-01T15:26:00.000+11:00

So, in my previous post I wrote that Tuesdays (today) were going to be posts about my upcoming getting married ceremony, or wedding, or "honeymoon" and I'm already ignoring that. See I was going to write a post about the compromise I made with Inspector Climate about more of his family attending our Getting Married ceremony - about it becoming a bigger deal than I wanted (the fact that it's a deal at all is bigger than I wanted). But there's not point in rehashing it. A week from today (TODAY), I'll be marrying him, and the truth is, that's all that matters.

So instead, I think we should probably talk about my ovary.

Yesterday I had my third doctor's appointment in 5 days regarding my left ovary (who I am no longer speaking to). I had to go to visit my GP so that she could send me to yet another specialist who will perform the surgery to remove the growth. The growth which by the way has grown substantially over the past month and is now 4cm by 3cm. That's bigger than a golf ball. That's huge. I've named it Jorge.

And as I said on twitter earlier - I kind of want to give my left ovary a high five, 4 by 3 cm. That's a commitment. Well done, ovary. Well done. But we're not on speaking terms at the moment, so how'd'ya like them apples.

It's starting to push on my psoas which is causing some awkward discomfort in my groin. So, now do I not only walk around absent mindedly rubbing my tummy from previous pain episodes, but I also rub my left groin unconsciously. Yes, it is as awkward as you're imagining it.

The next steps are to make an appointment with a specialist (which I tried to do yesterday but they were all closed because it was the Monday prior to Cup Day...A day off for horse racing...No, seriously!) and then trying to book a surgery sometime between our Getting Married ceremony and our trip to Vanuatu (hopefully).

How likely do you think that is?

November, we meet again.

2011-10-30T19:06:00.002+11:00

I know, I know it's not November yet, but this year, much to Magneto Bold Too!'s dismay, I'll be participating in NaBloPoMo, again.

To try and make this as painless (for both you and me) as possible, I am going to try and be a little bit more formal with posts this time around. This will hopefully prevent any "Oh no! I've nearly forgot to post" posts. Because no one enjoys that.

So for the month of November I'm instituting:

Getting Married Tuesday's where I'll write about our 'Getting Married' ceremony, our wedding in 2012, or some honeymoon tidbits.

What I Wear Wednesdays where I will demonstrate the numerous ways to wear khaki pants and pajamas (probably not together...).

I'll try to post some new recipes one day a week, too.

(I'm notoriously bad at actually posting weekly prompts on the days they're supposed to be posted - so you know these are rough estimates, I make no promises)

I'm sure, as is Decoybetty tradition, there will be some fantastic posts with just haikus.

Are there any weekly prompts you'd love me to join in on?

Are there any questions you'd love for me to answer (ask me anything)?

(No, seriously, I can promise to answer your questions though, pinkie swear!)

Are you participating in NaBloPoMo? Or are you annoyed by the amount of posts in your feed?

I need a bigger plate or a new set of ovaries. Your choice universe.

2011-10-28T07:57:00.002+11:00

So, hi, let's commence with a slight rant shall we? I'm very sorry it has to happen this way, the ranting that is. But I'm a bit scared, severely overwhelmed, and procrastinating on writing a cover letter.

In my last post, I mentioned that I had to go in to get a second internal ultrasound and a couple of you were like "um, why?" So, let's recap shall we?

My ovaries seem to be a bit on the fucked up side. There I said it. Since about mid August I've had severe episodes of pain in my ovary/uterus/reproductive organ area. Well, I've had the pains for few months before that as well, but it was/is getting worse, and I went to the ER and they sent me home after doing nothing. The last two times have been well, to quote Inspector Climate "you're writhing in pain, unable to move, your body is completely spasming, and this last time the blood rushed out of your extremities leaving you with no feeling in them and you're panicking - that's not normal." In other words, it HURTS, yo.

(This is what I do, and possibly why doctors didn't take me quite as seriously previously to this last episode - I jest about the pain because if I don't, I cry. And I am not a huge fan of crying in front of strangers).

And so, yesterday I went to have a second ultrasound because in the first one the ultrasound guy said this "you have blood around your left ovary, it's probably nothing but I need you to come back in 7 weeks to make sure it's gone"... however, that is NOT what he said this time. This time he said, "Last time you were here we discussed that there was the possibility that you have endometriosis and we're seeing if our hunch was correct previously"... he said while I was splayed out on the table with my legs spread and not pants on and then proceeded to shake my hand which one of the more awkward moments in my life.

Well, apparently his hunch was correct because he is now nearly 100% certain that I have endometriosis. Yay for a diagnosis. Boo for endometriosis. I have an appointment with my doctor for Monday which will hopefully give me a better idea of what we're going to do to help me (the technician seemed confident that key hole surgery was in my future).

Stop being on the fritz, ovaries. I don't have the time for this right now.

I feel extremely overwhelmed. As you know, I am getting married in less than two weeks and while that in itself doesn't scare me at all, it is something that I have penned into my date book. My booking for my fingerprints is the day after Inspector Climate and I get married (I know how to PARTY). I've got jobs I'm applying for and interviewing for (and getting calls like this "we're keeping your application on hold because you're a strong candidate but we're waiting to hear back from our first choice candidate FIRST" Nothing makes me feel more like Toby Ziegler than being told I'm the second choice). I'm working two days a week, I have two vacations planned for the next two months and I don't really feel I have time for doctor's appointments (which I have UP THE WAZOOO) and possibly surgeries or not being able to function for 36 hours because of a pain episode.

Plus you know, making time for the things that relax and refuel me like knitting, yoga, baking, and blogging. I'm simply just overwhelmed. I'm sorry about that, too.

I believe this is what is referred to as phoning it in

2011-10-26T07:46:00.000+11:00

I have to go to work in a few minutes but I feel compelled to blog.

Here's the thing, first of all by "I have to go to work soon" I basically mean I'll be leaving to get there about 20 minutes early. I don't know why I do this, I often feel guilty then for leaving early (which is totally feasible we have a flexible work day). So there's that.

I'm also preparing myself mentally for my second internal ultrasound tomorrow. Why yes, I am squeezing my thighs together as we speak. I am not looking forward to having it done again, that's $250 I could spend on smoothies.

In brighter and lighter news, Inspector Climate and I are getting married in T-13 days. Last night as we cuddled in bed we talked about how two weeks from now we'll be married. We talked about how unscary that seems and how lucky we are. We talked about how in past relationships we felt compelled to try to change ourselves or try to be someone we're not to make the other person like us...but together we don't need to try so hard. We don't need to change ourselves. Because together our individual neurosis (and trust me, we both have them. Although his are more along the lines of the fact he panics when a lap top isn't plugged in and mind are more along the lines of being a bit of a nut) just work together.

Yesterday, I went to buy a good friend a birthday present and started talking to the cashier and partners and fiancées came up and I mentioned I was getting married in two weeks and she told me that I seemed calm and collected for a bride-to-be. What's to freak out about? I'm marrying someone I love. What's scary in that?

What's more scary is this internal ultrasound. I insist on wearing socks (and you know how I feel about socks (I hate socks. I never wear socks. Snowing: no socks)) because I feel like if I'm going to be naked from the waist down my feet better be covered. Look I cannot explain it, but socks must be worn.

So um, how are you?

When it comes to pesto, I am a purist...but this is an exception

2011-10-24T07:18:00.001+11:00

I've been a bad blogger, I attended the ProBlogger event in Melbourne on Friday where I learned all kinds of new stuff that hopefully will lead to some short and long term goals for this blog that I'll probably update with you later. Including all the lovely people I met. And trust me when I say, I meant to write about all that over the weekend, but on Sunday I suffered from another Cyst Episode Too Many: Except not a cyst because ultrasounds show I don't have any and Doctor's are perplexed (I don't expect this title to gain ground in the movie industry). For the first time, Inspector Climate witnessed an episode from beginning to end and I'm embarrassed to admit the extreme pain only lasts like 20 minutes (IF THAT). It feels like hours and I seriously just don't know how people with chronic pain or "real" pain do it. ~~To make me not look like a total wimp~~ To be fair, it was so bad that my body started pulling all the blood from my extremities so that they started to lose feeling - terrifying.

Anyway, I feel better now after a full night's sleep, I even sat up this morning using my own abs instead of Inspector Climate's muscles. True story.

No, today, I really wanted to discuss pesto with you. I love pesto and have grown up spoiled, eating it freshly picked (or freshly picked then frozen for winter use) from my mom's garden. In fact one of the main plans for my planter box is to grow basil by the .... um ... planter box so that I can start freezing some for our winter.

So when I found this recipe for Roasted Tomato Basil Pesto over at Oh she Glows I knew I had to give it a try. Except that here's the thing, we didn't have any basil, the market didn't have any organic basil (and herbs are one of the things I insist on buying organic) and so, instead, I made...

Roasted Tomato and Cilantro Pesto

You'll need:

9 large roma tomatoes (I would use more like 15 I think in the future)
1/2 cup almonds lightly toasted
2 garlic cloves
1 cup tightly packed of basil or cilantro
1/4 cup of olive oil, plus some for drizzling
Salt and pepper
Pasta for two or three

First, cut your roma's in half lengthwise and preheat the oven to 400 F. Then be ye not as stupid as I and put down a piece of parchment paper over your cookie sheet before putting your tomatoes on said sheet. Trust me, I learned this the hard way. Then drizzle olive oil over your tomatoes and some salt and pepper.

Cook for about an hour and some minutes (I probably overcooked mine slightly). If you have neglected that integral step, as I did, of using baking paper carefully remove tomatoes from burnt areas of the pan don't worry, they'll be fine. Measure out about 1.5 cup of tomatoes. I only had 1.5 cup of tomatoes, but if you have extra set them aside.

Toast your almonds in oven at 325 F for 8-10 minutes. Use 1/3 of a cup and put them in your food processor to be pulsed a few times, I wanted them to be a bit crunchy so I left the chunks pretty big.

Remove from processor and set aside. With food processor turned on, drop garlic in until it is well and truly chopped up. Then add your cilantro or basil to the garlic and process until it is well chopped. Add in oil and tomatoes and process until smooth. Then add in the 1/3 cup of already chopped almonds and some salt and pepper to taste, pulse until smooth.

Roughly chop the remaining almonds and if have any left over tomatoes chop those as well.

Mix the pesto through your cooked pasta. Sprinkle roughly chopped almonds on top and some of the leftover chopped roasted tomatoes if you have any.

Oh She Glows is a vegan blog, and I hope she won't think I've trashed her recipe by adding some grated parmesan on top (although to be fair, it TOTALLY didn't need it).

I ended up having enough pesto left over to have it for lunch on pasta again the next day AND I spread it on crackers while I was at work. It is absolutely delicious. Using cilantro instead of basil adds a bit of a Mexican salsa feel to the pesto that is altogether lovely. But I am still eager to try it with real basil! Yum!

What are you cooking up this weekend?

Two years since he kissed me (I mean the first time...he's kissed me since. it would be weird if he hadn't).

2011-10-20T08:36:00.000+11:00

Yesterday was Inspector Climate and my anniversary. We have a traditionally anniversary celebration. I cook him the dinner I cooked him two years ago (quiche with a potato (ie gluten free) crust with broccoli and caramelised onion and capsicum) and we watch the movie we saw on our first date: 500 Days of Summer.

I tried to convince Inspector Climate that we teach the bridal party this dance for when we walk down the aisle after being pronounced husband and wife (with Ellen in tow...obviously):

But he is refusing. REFUSING to shimmy, ladies and gentlemen. And this is the man I'm marrying?

Yes, yes it is.

He is also the man who while I was ~~on my lady holiday~~ feeling sick he made me dinner, baked me gluten free crackers (FROM SCRATCH) and withstood several crying episodes that, trust me, NO ONE enjoyed. And then when I was lying on the couch practising my moaning he ran down the street to get me some Ben and Jerry's Phish Food ice cream. Y'all if that is not true love, I am not sure what is.

We're getting married now in mere weeks and I couldn't be more relaxed about it. This is who we are:

And I quite adore us together.

So, here's to many more years of twists and shouts, kitchen dance parties, and Ben and Jerry's ice cream.

Occupying Melbourne

2011-10-17T05:00:00.000+11:00

On Saturday, I stopped by Occupy Melbourne to show my support as one of 99%

The signs that were up were absolutely amazing. This giant baby is some piece of artwork that's in City Square (I don't know why) and someone put "Monsanto Mutant Baby" underneath of it. LOVE it. What you can't really see in this photo is that this baby has a dinosaur-like tail!

Here are some more signs. Above this wall was a microphone which Inspector Climate describes as "leftie karoke" - anyone who wanted to could get up there and have the stage to express their beliefs. And that was nice. Not that I did it - I'm not much for public speaking. But it was nice to hear average people getting a place to talk.

And so, while I spent the weekend doing what I normal do - Occupying Melbourne - this time I did it with awareness.

How was your weekend?

Be careful with that knife, you might have to kiss the nearest boy!

2011-10-14T13:01:00.002+11:00

A couple of weekends ago, Inspector Climate and I attended his cousins second birthday party where I was reminded of a strange Australian tradition.

When Australian's cut a birthday cake if the knife touches the bottom of the cake you have to kiss the nearest person of the opposite sex. Which basically means you always have to kiss someone of the opposite sex because how do you NOT touch the bottom of the cake? It's a knife and you're making a slice - what are you going to do only cut 3/4 of the way down?

Is this something your family does? What birthday traditions do you have? And most of all, have a great weekend!

Well, that was a slap in the face...followed by a kick in the stomach

2011-10-13T07:28:00.000+11:00

Remember when I was all, this blog created opportunities for me and yay two job interviews. Well, neither of those panned out. And, why yes, I am devastated.

And before you get all Inspector Climate on me, yes, I can see the silver lining. I had two job interviews, they went really well. I was myself in both of them, was knowledgeable and both interviewers said I was a strong candidate. And yes, this kind of emphasised that what I'd like to be doing with my life is combining social media with environmental not-for-profits. And that's pretty huge in itself. I get it.

I also get that I am completely heartbroken. See this is what happened. The first job interview happened so fast, I read the description sent in a coverletter and was asked to come into an interview THE VERY NEXT DAY. I went to the interview, I rocked it. The interviewer told me he definitely wanted me to come in to meet the CEO and that basically they'd just be ironing out the details after that. He even emailed me before the weekend to tell me not to panic because I hadn't heard from them, but he was going to be out of office early the next week and that he'd get in touch shortly. Sounds promising doesn't it? Almost dare I say it, like a job offer?

Meanwhile, I emailed my dream job to say, "hey look, I got offered a second interview somewhere else, but I'd much prefer to work with you, so what's the status of my application." And they said, come in for an interview. And I did.

Days went by, and I hadn't heard from interviewer #1 so I emailed to see how things were going...they decided to shift things around internally and not hire anyone at all. But I was a "strong candidate" and they hope I'll apply again if they re-advertise in the future. Um, ok.

And more days went by, and I emailed the dream job to check in - I was not going to let this one slip by - but they too had passed. "You interviewed really well, I can't really give you any feedback, some of the other candidates were just bet...more experienced." She said on the phone.

I was at work when she called and I had to hold it together for hours before I could head home. By the time I was off the train and walking towards my apartment, I was biting my lip and coming to terms to the fact I was about to have a major sob fest on the streets of Melbourne. By the time, I had shut the door on my apartment the hacking sobs had arrived accompanied by tears and the occasionally blurted out swear word.

I'm devastated. Jobs like those don't come around all the time, those job descriptions, it was like they wrote them with me in mind. And yet, here I sit knowing yet again that November is probably going to come and go and I'll unemployed for the third year in a row. That's how I roll, I get a job in April and it all ends in November. I wanted so badly to break the cycle. I wanted so badly to not have to worry on embarking on this new married life relying on only one income which isn't mine. I wanted to finally start working at a job that I loved with people who are kind but also as passionate about this stuff as I am.

And instead, here I am facing unemployment again. I know in a few days or maybe next week I'll be able to pick up the pieces and start applying for jobs again. It may only be hours from now. But until then I just need to grieve for the opportunities lost and the dreams that have crumbled.

Ellen Degeneres, Could you do me a favour?

2011-10-11T07:30:00.002+11:00

Hi Ellen,

I've been a big fan of yours for a long time. Once I tried one of your jokes from your Here and Now show on a guy I was dating. It did NOT go as planned.

But that's neither here nor there now, because I've fallen love and am getting married at the end of September 2012 in New England. And I was hoping you'd officiate. The best part is that you don't have to be a justice of the peace or get ordained because technically, my fiancé and I will already be married. But look, I think your resume could use the boost of having that one extra credential - so go and get ordained if you wish.

Here's the thing Ellen, we already have so much in common.

You married an Australian.

I'm about to marry an Australian.

Your Australian is from Victoria.

My Australian is from Victoria.

There will be a variety of vegetarian gluten free food at the ceremony - and if you're there, there will be dancing. Oh so much dancing.

So anyway, Ellen, would you do me the honour of officiating my 29 September 2012 wedding?

We'll even rent you a Winnebago to be parked on our property so you can be near the action - or a hotel room, look we can iron out the details later.

Much love and respect,

Decoybetty

Let me let you in on why this is a secret.

2011-10-07T15:57:00.000+11:00

First of all, a few days ago I posted about how the hardest thing about using my blogging experience as resume building is talking about my blog with The Real World. And lots of you were all "Your blog is a secret? What is UP with that?"

My blog isn't a secret because my parents or family wouldn't be supportive. And it isn't a secret because my friends think blogging is whack. It isn't a secret so that I have the space to vent about family affairs (although there have been times when I've come close) or discuss friends' secrets. No, it isn't for any of those reasons.

The reason my family doesn't know is because I have a long long history of not telling them anything. They don't know that I was so depressed at college that I often ignored their phone calls because I wasn't up to lying about how I felt that day. Similarly, they don't know about the 9 months I was on the pill and the horrible depression that that sent me into. They don't know about my trip to the Emergency Room, the story of my engagement part 1 or 2 (I mean, they know I am engaged, I have to share somethings), or how sometimes I get homesick. And it's not because they wouldn't understand or because they wouldn't be loving and compassionate - it's because of me. I'm just not that good at sharing with my parents. A bunch of strangers - sure! Hi!

No, no, no. None of this secrecy can be blamed on my parents (although, when I was 11 and had been getting my period for a few sporadic months but was embarrassed to tell my mother but finally told her because you know, it is some rite of passage or something. She told my whole family and wanted to throw me a period party. A. Period. Party. You know where a bunch of her friends could tell me what it's like being a woman or something? I don't know, I emphatically said I couldn't think of anything WORSE and then proceeded to never trust her with a secret again...I mean she told everyone).

No, it's because of me.

See I use this space to think through decisions, vent about emotions I can't process using my verbal words, and to find humour in situations that are just down right getting me down. Then once I've worked through all that shiznit, I can verbalise my decision, what I'm actually feeling, or the humour once I've found it. But I don't want them to see the mess behind what I tell them, I don't want them to worry about their little girl around the world, and I don't want them to suggest solutions. So without this space to work through my problems and deal with change and emotion and anxiety and worry, I'd be...well, probably less communicative. (Inspector Climate just rolled his eyes saying "hah, that's not possible).

So is this just me? Did your mom want to throw you a period party? Why do you keep your blog a secret? Or not?

Garden pickings

2011-10-06T13:28:00.000+11:00

First I wrote a guest post over at Her Packing List about one of my favourite books. If you like travel, adventure, and AMAZING writing skills I'd highly recommend going to check out this post. Seriously, just go.

If you don't like travel, adventure, or amazing writing skills, then you can hang here with me and we'll talk about garden spinach. Hey hey now, don't leave. Spinach is delicious.

On Tuesday night, I picked our first garden goodies from my planter box: spinach and coriander. I picked it brought it inside and put it in the sink to give it a good wash and get all the bugs off of it - growing up on a farm has made me both paranoid about eating slugs and kind of blasé about bugs in my food.

Because fresh garden spinach isn't something I get to eat very often, I wanted to make sure I was eating it raw and right after it was picked to capitalise on its freshness. Now if I lived alone, I probably would have made a salad with some Gorgonzola cheese, apples and pears, spinach and some pine nuts. But I don't live alone. I live with Inspector Climate who thinks that lettuce and spinach (raw, he's fine with it cooked) is rabbit food (which so are carrots, and he eats those. His logic is full of holes).

So instead I made his favourite meal home made refried black beans (bean loaf, recipe from on my blog previously here) with home made corn tortillas, home made fresh salsa, some grated cheese and sliced spinach.

Holy Yum!

You ask and you shall receive...No really.

2011-10-05T07:31:00.000+11:00

A few posts ago I wrote about how this blog has landed me a job interview (or three) recently and I've received a few comments about how I've been leveraging my blog to get said interviews and some discounts for my upcoming travels. You ask, and you shall receive my dears. Literally.

However, the answer isn't so much a magical and mythical one as it is common sense. The travelling one is the easiest. I asked. I emailed the hotel that we wanted to stay at and one of the activities we wanted to do that was a bit expensive and explained about my blog (some stats and how I would write about my experience), when we were going to be there, and what kind of offer I was looking for. And they both said yes. One gave me a discounted price on the activity we wanted to do (to be divulged when we embark on said trip) and the hotel upgraded us to a nicer room for majorly discounted price.

Lesson: Asking doesn't hurt.

As for the jobs, recently there have been some business in Melbourne who have been advertising social media AND environment jobs (hello dream job, how are you?). I've been able to use my nine years of blogging experience as well as my experience in fundraising and the environment sector to my advantage. The hardest part about this for me is I've spent a lot of time and effort keeping my blog a secret. My family doesn't know it exists, a lot of real life friends don't know it exists, and most of all the places that I work do not know that it exists. So for me to be open about this space has been a bit of a challenge and learning curve for me. However, if the pay off is that I get paid to blog and use social media to help the environment - then YES PLEASE.

Lesson: When applying to jobs utilise ALL your skills and hobbies.

Is there anything else you'd like to know? Ask me, bitches.

Sleep and Meaningfuls

2011-10-03T07:56:00.000+11:00

I've been looking forward to writing this post for the last twenty four hours, Inspector Climate's behaviour at night time is so completely different to his behaviour when he is awake, that I've even had to add a 'sleep and meaningfuls' category to my blog to document his out of character actions.

Inspector Climate is a notorious sleep talker (see here and here), as well as a sleep mover and a shaker. Most of his night time shenanigans arise because he thinks that there are bugs in the bed.

Over the weekend we went to his parents house for a weekend out of the city. On Saturday night, Inspector Climate woke me up as he usually does by turning on the light and starting to get out of bed. Before I could ask him what he was doing, he pulled down his undies - checked himself out, and pulled them back up again.

"What are you doing?" I asked, knowing the answer as he started to pull the sheet back and look for bugs in the bed.

"I thought there were bugs in the bed."

When he woke up the next morning, I asked if he remembered any of his nudist activities of the night before. Not a clue.

Y'all, I got a streaker on my hands!

He liked it so he put a ring on it

2011-09-30T08:01:00.002+10:00

About nine or ten months ago, I found a ring on etsy and fell so in love with it that I told Inspector Climate that I wanted it as my engagement ring - you know whenever he felt like proposing (this was back before visas became a daily discussion, we'd moved in together, and were getting married in approximately 5 weeks). I've never been a big fan of diamonds. In fact, I don't like them at all.

When Inspector Climate actually proposed the first time it was so impromptu that there was no talk of a ring. And the second time, he gave me a ring I already owned until we could order the one I fell so madly in love with online.

Here's the thing with me, I'm allergic to everything - absolutely everything. Including metals: gold, nickel, copper, bronze...you know, the things that make up jewellery. I am not allergic to sterling silver IF the alloy isn't made up of too much copper, and it's a fine fine balance, some pieces of jewellery I'm fine with and others cause whole hand rashes that look like poison ivy. FANTASTIC.

My point is when I was ordering the ring from the etsy shop, NODEFORM, I wanted to make sure that I wasn't going to be allergic to the ring. After emailing back and forth with NODEFORM for a couple of weeks to see if we could pin down what alloy of sterling silver I'm allergic to and what one I am not, Inspector Climate and I finally ordered the ring a few weeks ago. And it arrived yesterday. When I opened the package, I was so excited to finally see it in the flesh, because I mean...look at it. It's just stunning...

Image from NODEFORM

I've been wearing it for about 18 hours now and so far haven't gotten an allergic reaction to it, so fingers crossed that it stays that way. Because I'm simply smitten with my ring and I refuse to give it back.

Image from NODEFORM

I knew if the ring was too expensive I wouldn't want to wear it because I'd be scared of losing it or ruining it, I also knew I wanted something that seemed quintessentially me. I think this ring is both of these things. I'm going to give myself until tomorrow to see if my body rejects the ring, in which case, body, we're going to have to have a serious discussion about what is good for us. First it was wheat...and I said "fine, you don't like wheat, I won't eat it even though it is delicious" but my engagement/getting married ring?...I must put my foot down).

Also, my dear Inspector Climate, thank you for liking it and for putting not just any ring on it, but a ring that I am quite smitten with. I adore it, and you!

I'd highly recommend ordering from NODEFORM (website here; shop here; or follow on twitter here) (and no, I'm not getting any compensation for this post), not only are the pieces completely unique and absolutely lovely, but you cannot buy fantastic service - 12 emails were exchanged - and I could even send it back within a few days if I did have an allergic reaction to it!

How to prepare for an interview: Decoybetty Style

2011-09-27T19:07:00.000+10:00

Today I had an interview for a job because of this blog. And so now, I must bow to you, blog, and to you, bloggers, for letting this little space on the internet be a place that causes me so much joy that I can't help but blog every day. No seriously, thank you. I adore you, blog, and each one of you. If I could get a puppy to give you a kiss right now I would. THAT is how much I love you.

With that in mind, I thought I'd show my gratitude the only way I know how, which is to impart a bit advice I've learned from my panic attacks over job interviews. Let thee not panic in case a job interview falls in your lap. Just follow this step by step process.

Sit on your bed and contemplate how this happened to you. That's right, remind yourself why you deserve to have a job interview - which is because you're awesome. As if that needs explaining.
Research the organisation's mission and history. You know to find out what they do.
Read it about 12 times.
Convince yourself you have no idea what they do or how they do it.
Assume that sometime in the interview you'll have a major epiphany and the reading you've done will come out of your month in your own words.
Write questions for when the interviewer asks you if you have any questions.
Write back up questions for your questions because chances are they'll answer the question you so cleverly wrote.
Remind yourself of your "biggest weakness" and remember to turn it into your biggest asset.
Take a shower.
Ahhh, hot water.
Iron your foxy interview outfit.
Hold it up and realise that you've somehow added MORE wrinkles. Curse.
Re-iron shirt.
Realise that you keep making it worse.
Iron skirt.
Be slightly more successful in skirt de-wrinkling objective (this is good start throwing around words like 'horizontal integration' and 'key objectives')
Leave for interview so that you arrive one-hour early to your destination.
Find the building you're going to while nonchalantly walking past, you know in case they're watching you.
Find a Hudson's or Gloria Jean's coffee shop.
Order a soy chai latte.
Check watch.
Burn your tongue.
Re-read your notes, realise that your hand writing is an abomination.
Freak out that you have no idea what you're doing or why your doing it.
Worry that you have soy foam on your nose.
Check watch again.
Notice that you're 'freshly' ironed shirt is wrinkled.
Wish you took home-ec so that you learned how to iron.
Check your watch again.
Tell yourself to man up, and walk to the building where the interview will be held.

I can't give you any advice past that point. And you wouldn't want me to, today during the interview I said "vivor" instead of vigor. Le sigh.

7 things and spreading the bloggy love

2011-09-23T15:04:00.002+10:00

Hello my pretties. Happy Weekend or Friday I guess, depending on where you are located.

Angela over at Grahangela gave me the '7 things' award, type thing - Thank you!

You know how these things work right? I tell you 7 things about me. I spread some bloggy love. And then we all bust a move to 'Everybody wants the same thing' by the scissor sisters.

7. The Scissor Sisters got me through college. True story.

6. I'm trying two new kinds of cheese (maybe, I am unsure of the rules of this 1000 cheese project) today. A Jensen's Red that is locally made in Gippsland. It is some variation on Brie I think. I don't know I found it hard to concentrate because the guy selling the cheese was super chatty and he made me blush by assuming I was buying fancy cheese to woo my boyfriend who was apparently coming over tonight for some cheesy love. Or something.

The other is a very aged cheddar with black wax on it. Aptly named "Black wax cheddar"...Would it taste different if it was red wax? So many questions.

5. I'm actually having a cheese lunch with my friend Jess. We'll watch a terrible movie and stuff ourselves with cheese (not shown is the soon to be baked camembert ... sorry, I had to wipe up my drool).

4. A few of you asked what my new job was, which I can't really disclose but I am writing some copy for an environmental not-for-profit and helping them with some social media stuff. It's only a two day a week temporary (until November) position. But it came at a GREAT time because my other job is ending.

3. I just found out that Kyle Hepp and Seba are coming to Australia next year. If they can book a wedding. So if you know anyone who is having a wedding in Australia and needs a photographer duo that is totally kick ass. Send them to their website. Do it so your hypothetical friend can have super awesome wedding/boudoir/engagement/family photos of themselves, or because Kyle and I really want to meet each other and dance awkwardly in public while our Significant Others laugh at us. Look, I don't care what the motive is...just do it.

2. I like to pretend that Inspector Climate and I were so in sync with our future selves that we planned our "getting married" honeymoon way before we knew we were getting married. We leave for our trip to Vanuatu a mere 2 weeks after getting married! We're very intuitive.

1. The other night at about 3 AM Inspector Climate mumbled "happy birthday" and then said loudly "WHAT DID YOU SAY" and when I said "nothing, you said happy birhday." He angrily replied "Nevermind, go back to sleep." Seriously, the boy is feisty in his sleep.

And here are some blogs you should probably check out:

Little lo Hood

Melbourne on my Mind

Cup 'a Hot Chocolate

The Short and the Sweet of it

Now let's dance...?

Environmental Wednesday on Thursday: We change

2011-09-22T12:54:00.000+10:00

"An agriculture that is whole nourishes the whole person, body and soul.

We do not live by bread alone"

~Wendell Berry~

I've talked about my desire eat locally grown (hopefully by me) and organic food a lot on this blog. Like when I made the most lemon-y lemon bars. Inspector Climate hasn't always been on board with this love affair. And that's not surprising considering it wasn't all that long ago that he wasn't interested in climate change or the environment at all. And it has only been recently that he's seen the connection between how we grow our food, our health, and our environment.

The interconnectedness was helped along by the book by Michael Pollan that came out several years ago called The Omnivore's Dilemma. We all know how much I like Michael Pollan, I wrote him a love letter. And I must admit, I bought this book for Inspector Climate knowing that after reading it he would change his eating habits. Inspector Climate eats meat, and that's fine, this I did not go out of my way to change (as long as he doesn't ask me to cook it for him, or touch it, or doesn't leave it near other food in the fridge - look I'm picky). I am not one of those vegetarians that gets offended or hurt or will lecture meat eaters. However, I do think it is important to know where that meat comes from that you're eating. Just like it's important to know where that broccoli came from.

And so, we found a place at the Prahran Market that sells organic free range sandwich ham, Hagens. I can't tell you how it tastes or if it is different from the non-organic, hormone taking, caged ham that they sell across the aisle, but I can tell you that the people selling the organic ham seem happier than those selling the other stuff.

The Omnivore's Dilemma goes into great detail describing where American meat and produce comes from. And most importantly, to me, it follows the production of where organic food comes from. When I hear the world organic, I think about gardens like my mom's. Where organic means an alternative way of growing fruit and vegetables. But big business has stolen organic from the 'alternative life style, locally grown, free ranging animal' meaning that it used to have. And that disturbs me.

For my birthday, Mr Climate made me a planter box so that I could make my dreams of growing even a little bit of my own food myself, even in suburbia, come true.

So far I have some happy flowers (pansies? I am horrible with flower names) growing in my flower box, and coriander happily meeting the sun. My basil is suffering and I am not sure if that's because it's getting too much sun or not enough water or what! My tomato plant is blossoming! And my spinach is flourishing.

And our lemon tree, oh our lemon tree has blossoms all over it! After months of seeming like it couldn't make up its mind on whether to continue growing or boycott life, it has decided to flower.

It is unrealistic to think that at this point in our lives, Inspector Climate and I could grow any significant amount of our food. And while we've recently decided to make a more concerted effort to step away from all things big business (Inspector Climate has even started referring to the supermarket as the stupidmarket. Go ahead and roll your eyes, I know I do), growing even this small box of vegetables has cemented our view that the relationship that we were cultivating with Coles and Safeway wasn't healthy.

Another birthday gift from my old housemate was a book called The One-Straw Revolution by Masanobu Fukuoka, I'm only on page 13. So I can't give you a full run down on this guy's beliefs. BUT in the preface by Wendell Berry this quote struck me "When we change the way we grow our food, we change our food, we change society, we change our values. And so this book is about paying attention to relationships, to causes and effects, and it is about being responsible for what one knows."

I don't write this in hopes that you suddenly decide to buy all organic food for the rest of your days or so you drop your careers and start an organic farm (although I'd totally support both those choices). No, I write this in the hope that we can all start having just a small amount of awareness about our actions because they all matter.

I'm too busy being Grumpet

2011-09-20T21:19:00.000+10:00

I am having an extremely Grumpet kind of day (Grumpet clearly being a grumpy muppet). I'm homesick. Very very homesick.

I even tried to cover up the homesickness by eating four Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.

It helped a little.

So, um, that's what's new with me. What's new with you?

Pick your men based on yellow ear patches...It's science.

2011-09-19T07:39:00.000+10:00

A couple of days ago on twitter, the BBC posted this. First of all, how much do you want to just cuddle with those fuzzy baby penguins? I love penguins. I think this is fairly well known. And besides the obvious reasons to love them: their waddle; their formal attire; and their ability slide on their tummy, I love their relationships with each other. When penguins mate, they pick a partner for the long haul. And daddy penguins? Well, they're just plain good dads. And there is nothing hotter than a good dad, amiright ladies (this of course is being said from the girl who doesn't want kids...but still!)?

Over the weekend, I insisted that Inspector Climate watch March of the Penguins which is probably in my top 10 love stories and it makes me want to visit Antarctica even more (despite that harsh cold windy winter). But what is so amazing about that footage (besides everything) is the amount of love between the parents as they carefully transfer the egg from the mama's feet to the daddy's feet, and bow their heads together sharing little penguin beak kisses.

Oh the penguin love. It is real, yo.

This is just to say, that I was looking for a thank you card to send to one of Inspector Climate's family members at this little bookstore on Degraves St last week and I found this card:

Which is awesome for many reasons, see those brown flaps on the back? That's what you write on and then remove and can put a different piece of paper in there to reuse the gift card which is just brilliant! (I'd show you the inside but it's a love note to IC and no one needs to read that) You can check out their 100% post consumer recycled cards printed with vegetable ink at Merrygoround.com.au - and no they didn't pay me to write this.

Secondly, the swans necks intertwined meant that I knew I had to buy this card for Inspector Climate (he bought me an engagement ring - and I bought him a card? Yeah. Sure, that's the same...) (More on the ring later...I promise). I adore the tangled nature of the card, the intertwined necks. That's love. Bird love. But love.

What is my point?

Eh, I don't really have one. It's Monday morning and I've got penguins on the brain and love is, well, everywhere!

Oh yeah, and if you're looking for a mate, take one out of the penguin handbook...try dying your ear patches brighter yellow...Sexy.

Mark your calenders people...Nov 8

2011-09-16T13:38:00.000+10:00

Spring is springing in Melbourne. When I moved here in 2008, I was prepared for a lot of things. I was prepared for the warmer climate, the reverse seasons, that there would be accent issues and language mis-slips. But what I didn't know, what I couldn't prepare for was what spring would feel like without the melting snow, the muddy grass, and gradual climb to warmer days.

Melbourne Springs are windy. And each year, the wind catches me off guard.

Things are changing rapidly around me. So rapidly, I am having a hard time keeping up. And for someone who doesn't handle change with grace, this brings more than a few challenges with it. I started a new job last week. And while so far it is fantastic, it is still new. I am still learning the ropes, learning my role, learning what is expected from me and what I need to achieve.

I haven't had any recent Attack of the Cysts episodes recently, but the fact that the ultrasound didn't show any problems has left me worried and unsure about what the next steps are to better diagnose my problem.

And on top of that, Inspector Climate and I made a date with the wedding registry and are getting married on November 8th. There is very little planning involved there really, his grandparents and parents will come. My closest friend in Australia will come as my witness. And while we tell ourselves this isn't the real wedding, this is the real deal. We will be really married after our 30 minute ceremony with the celebrant. In fact, I refuse to call it our wedding. Our wedding will be in New England. We're just getting married. We're having a "getting married" ceremony. You know, as you do.

This is, needless to say, not how I pictured it. And 'it' doesn't even begin to refer to the ceremony in and of its self. Both my brothers were with their wives for nearly 10 years before they got married. Of course they met when they were in their teens. I just assumed that is how it would be for me. But I wasn't ready to meet a boy and fall in love when I was 18. I had a lot of growing and self exploration to do. I didn't picture being so worried about everyone's feelings - will my parents feel left out that their only daughter is getting married 15,000 miles away? Will people think it is silly for us to have the "real deal" wedding ceremony in 2013? What if no one is excited then? What if I'm not excited then? What if...?

One of my yoga instructors talks at length about using the seasons to help process emotions that we hold to. And spring is the time for creating new habits and letting go of habits that no longer serve us. Making room in our lives for the changes and growth that spring brings. And so, I am striving to create new habits: I want to watch less tv, read more books, take advantage of sunny days and enjoy the new life that I am trying to cultivate.

My little tomato plant.

And with that, I am trying to let go of the things that don't serve me so well. To embrace the fantastic new changes that life has brought me, and put aside the worry and the fear of all those "what ifs." I can't do it all today. But I can start making the habits that will let me do it all for someday.

And until then, bitches, I am getting married on November 8th!!

It's divine. It's delicious. It's scrumptious. It's down right delectable.

2011-09-13T08:07:00.004+10:00

Again, I bring you a post that I started writing months ago and have finally decided to bite the bullet and post. Because I live on the edge like that. You see, I'm suffering from some bloggers block. I'd love to tell you about how last week I had to go get an ultrasound and not just any ultrasound but an internal ultra sound. And if you're a mother or pregnant you're all "whatevs" because hey doctors look at your nether regions all the time. But let me tell you I was totally freaking out about the whole ordeal (I looked truly fabulous in my polka dotted smock though, next time I'll be brave enough to take a picture, I promise). And when it was over the guy was all "I can't see anything wrong with your ovaries" and I breathed a big sigh of relief until he was all "well, except for the blood around that one, it's probably nothing but I want you in for another ultrasound in seven weeks" which obviously was terrible news because it means I have to go through the trauma of being probed AGAIN. So instead of talking about that (which of course, I've now talked about for a very large and clumsy paragraph) I bring you a small observation about Australians.

There are words that I would use to describe food - and by food I mean the taste of food. Things like "It's delightfully crunchy" or "or that hint of lemon is just yummy!"

However, I've found that most Australians, when presented with something absolutely delicious will describe it as "beautiful." I find this fascinating, beautiful things to me are visual and not based on the taste. I love it.

Of course they mean something entirely different when they say "you beauty."

As addictive as popcorn, but yummier.

2011-09-10T12:33:00.000+10:00

Remember when I lost my shit in front of a police station? Well, turns out that still makes me ridiculously angry.

I went to have another visit with my lawyer this week, and he said that people have gotten it done without the centralised booking service and he gave me a list of a few metropolitan police stations I should try. And so I called a couple, and got an officer who assured me that he could do it. I just needed to call before hand to make sure there was a female officer present. And so I called today, all ready to get this finger printing business done and of course I got a different officer who said that no, no they couldn't do it. I mean, hadn't I heard, there is a centralised booking service now. I know that talking smack to a police officer probably isn't wise - but hey maybe THAT would get me some fingerprinting done, amiright?

I was devastated. Yet another example where I can't regulate my hopes and then they crash so hard that I lose all rational sense.

After the complete high that was getting engaged, I have been faced with some challenges about how and when we'd like to get married and when and how we'd like our wedding to be. And yes, there is a different between those two things. Which I am sure I can bore you all with at length at later date if you so desire.

So I of course turned to my oven to make me feel better and made sweet and salty chickpeas.

Roasted chickpeas are outstandingly delicious. I mean seriously, there something about the crunch that is just so addicting that I end up eating whole cans of chickpeas by myself. And during moments where I HAVE to share, I do so begrudgingly. I like roasted chickpeas both savoury or sweet, but last night I had to have the sweet ones.

First: Preheat your oven to something hot like 200 C or 450 F.

Second: drain your chickpeas into a colander and rinse. I like to let them dry out as much as a possible - but these are so delicious that I am often too impatient to get them in the oven.

Third: Dump chickpeas onto a baking tray (I like to cover my tray with piece of parchment paper first - and I've found that my silpat doesn't work well with these) and stick them into the oven. Yup that's right. No oil no nothing. Just stick 'em in.

Fourth: Wait for 30 minutes. They should be incredibly crispy. I always am afraid they're going to burn, but be as patient as possible.

While they are roasting. Take two teaspoons of brown sugar and put it in a bowl large enough to hold the can of chickpeas. Add a 1/4 teaspoon of salt and 1 teaspoon of olive oil to the sugar. Mix until it's all combined.

Once the chickpeas are well and truly roasted, dump them into the sugar mixture and mix thoroughly making sure the chickpeas are well coated.

Eat while warm (is my preference). But apparently these last for a few days in a sealed container at room temperature and they taste good then too.

I am sorry I don't have any pictures of them. I was too busy stuffing my face with their delectable crunchy sweet and saltiness.

How we got engaged. Officially. Part two

2011-09-07T13:49:00.001+10:00

Haven't read part 1, go here.

So we're sitting in the car. I'm a snotty disgusting mess with a grouchy personality to match and Inspector Climate is being a knight in shining armour hoping to whisk me away from every thing that is horrible.

In between sobs, I told him he didn't mean it. That this isn't how he wanted it to be. And it should be how he wanted.

He assured me he meant it, that he didn't care that this isn't how he pictured it. He had been thinking about it for days and had been planning on asking me in the next two weeks but seeing me so distraught he had to ask me now.

My tears slowly dried up and we started on our way back to The Climates house, neither of us could quite face telling people that day that we were engaged so we decided to wait until Tuesday when Inspector Climate would ask me officially. When we were alone, we'd giggle to ourselves about our little secret and test out calling each other fiancé. I'd say "you're going to marry me" and he'd say "Yes I am."

That night Mrs Climate made threw me a birthday party complete with polka dot orange balloons (not pictured), fairy lights, a delicious cake, and unbeknownst to her, but quite fittingly balloons that said "congratulations" because she couldn't find any Happy Birthday ones in orange.

On Monday, I had to have my visa medical redone because apparently my results had expired. This is me rocking (a new haircut) and the gown for the chest xray. My mother said that I look like I'm at a concentration camp - she always knows how to cheer me up that one. That grumpy look on my face? That's the "I can't believe I am wearing an open backed hospital gown AGAIN" look.

On Tuesday, both Inspector Climate and I worked from home. Any thoughts that I wasn't ready for this (and there were many) dissipated as we enjoyed being able to spend the day together. On a weekday. The novelty! While I worked, Inspector Climate went to the market to pick up our groceries for the week and came back to our apartment carrying these

I never thought having fresh flowers was that important, but I love having them in the house, and I love that Inspector Climate would go out of his way to make the whole day a little special. After we finished our work days, we climbed into bed for an afternoon nap. Snuggled together as we talked, Inspector Climate reached into his bedside table and pulled out the ring (the ring that I had given him as our "temporary" engagement ring until we order the real deal) and asked me if I'd marry him. I don't remember what I said. I mumbled incoherently until he asked if that was a 'yes'. "Yes, of course it's a yes!"

To celebrate we went out to eat at a restaurant that I've been meaning to go to for several months. It's a 100% gluten free Mexican restaurant, that even serves black beans and uses chipotle, Mamasita. I decided to get a little dressed up for the occasion because I rarely utilise the chance to don a pretty dress.

This is what it looked like out of focus:

And this what I looked like in focus.

When we got back from dinner, Inspector Climate called his parents to tell him the news. They were beyond excited. And the next morning, I skyped with my family to tell them the news. They were thrilled as well. I guess I didn't quite anticipate that as being one of the perks of being engaged. Everyone is so incredibly happy for you. The happiness is palpable.

How we got engaged. Unofficially. Part 1

2011-09-05T21:00:00.000+10:00

About two weeks ago, Inspector Climate and I, fresh from our angst after hearing from my lawyer, realised that how we pictured the time line of our relationship might in fact be very different from the realities with which we are faced. We started pondering that maybe we should just go ahead and get engaged.

Inspector Climate said he needed to think about it. Which let's be honest - is TOTALLY reasonable. You see, he had always thought that he would propose on our 3rd anniversary (October 2012). So, feeling like I was being a pushy bitch, I told him that when and if (and only when or if) he was ready, to just ask me and I would stop bringing it up and stop agonising over The Process that is immigrating and just got on with you know, actually immigrating.

One of the things that I have to do is get my fingerprints taken to be sent to the FBI. So I called a few police stations in my 'hood and asked if they had the facilities to go about doing such a thing. And these police stations directed me to a "centralised booking system" which now deals with all non-criminal fingerprint bookings. Bear in mind that this part of the visa process was most important to get done quickly because it was going to take the longest, so I called in and they said the earliest appointment they had was in November. NOVEMBER. But they said, don't you fret none because LOTS of police stations will do it for you if you just call and ask (HAHAHAHA, you're funny centralised booking system).

I knew I'd be in Gippsland for my birthday, and I figured that a country town might be more laidback and more likely to ignore this centralised booking system nonsense. So I called a police station nearest to where The Climates live.

"Of course you can get your fingerprints done here! Just call before you drive down to make sure there hasn't been some crazy crime and there is an officer here" Officer 'I don't know what I am talking about' said!

Fantastic said I! See you on Saturday.

So, on Saturday, my birthday, I called this police station and asked if I could stop in and the guy was all "haven't you heard, we have moved to a centralised booking system and no longer do non-criminal fingerprints. But I can give you a number if you want?"

"Oh, but the guy at the centralised booking office said that police stations with the facilities to do fingerprints sometimes still do them... AND the officer I talked to a few days ago said that it was fine?"

"Oh yeah, no sorry, we can't - you should try a different station."

And so, I called 5 other police stations. Who all assured me that the centralised booking system was the way to go, or they didn't have the facilities but other police stations in the areas did. The 6th police station I called said, that he was pretty sure he could do it, he just had to wait until his superior returned and he'd give me a buzz back. I waited for an hour for his call, and was getting so frustrated...I tried a 7th a police station.

"Yeah, of course you can get your fingerprints done!"

"REALLLY?!"

"Yeah, no problem"

"Are you sure? Because there seems to be some confusion with centralised booking service ... "

"No, I am sure"

"Ok! I'll see you in an hour!"

So, Inspector Climate and I drove for an hour and some minutes to arrive at a police station. We parked out front, I was nearly clapping with glee and walked inside where the police officer came out and said "oh yeah, sorry, we can't actually do the fingerprints if they're non-criminal...you should try the main police station for the area [station #6 who never did call me back], and they should be able to do it."

And so we left said police station, sat in the car in the parking lot and I called that main area police station who assured me that the centralised booking system was what everyone used these days and that they were sorry they couldn't help me.

And as soon as I hung up, I cried. I cried big ugly tears with spit bubbles coming out of my mouth and snot shooting out of my nose in the most unlady like fashion. I wailed how unfair it is that each and every FUCKING step of this process has to be so hard. I was distraught, the frustration and the pain and the angst just all came pouring out.

Inspector Climate dutifully rubbed my back and told me it would be ok and I angrily said "It's not going to be ok! Stop saying it's going to be OK! Nothing is ok! This is too hard!"And more spit bubbles.

"I've been thinking...maybe we should get married" he said.

"You're just saying that to make me stop crying...you'll do anything to make me stop crying" I sobbed.

Because the truth is...I don't always say the right thing either.

Let's rewind...to my birthday

2011-09-03T12:27:00.002+10:00

Last Saturday, I turned twenty six. I find that birthdays are a better time to make some yearly goals than the New Year for me. I am not sure why that is.

Lets take a look at last year's goals:

1. Get a job. I want a job that fulfils my visa requirements, that makes me feel like I am contributing to something useful in this world, that is hopefully in melbourne - but if not somewhere that's beautiful to live and near good yoga (one can't be too picky), that while I may not love going to work EVERY day makes me inspired and excited. Also, not to be too you know...picky, but soon would be nice...Just Sayin',

Ok, so the year prior I had these goals where I learned that perhaps I should be specific in visualising what I want. A lesson I clearly needed to remember this time - I did get a job that fulfilled my visa, however I only had it for 3 months. Which is unfortunately not even close to long enough to appease the visa gods.

Anyway, That's not the point the point is that this year I have some new goals.

1. I want to find fulfilling work in the environment sector that I love and that I am good at.

2. I want to get better at taking pictures. Now notice I didn't saw photographs - and there is a difference. As such, I promise to post more pictures in my posts. In fact this week, I took a picture every day here are some of them:

The birthday cake that Mrs Climate made me (hazelnut sponge cake with chocolate cream layers)

A door into a mine:

The tower in Melbourne Central

The flower Inspector Climate picked for me after getting engaged

Tune in next time for the engagement story.

Let's shout from the roof tops! And of course dance in the streets.

2011-09-01T07:40:00.001+10:00

On Tuesday, Inspector Climate asked me to marry him.

I, of course said "YES!"

It was while we cuddled up in bed about to take a nap, snuggled up inside blankets and wrapped around each other to keep warm.

It was both unexpected and completely predetermined (more on that later).

Our families are beyond excited with skype phone calls had and emails sent and normal phone calls - a truly international experience.

I am supposed to be working, but I couldn't keep it in any more - and I certainly couldn't keep this secret from the internet for a second more, I was going to burst!

For someone who is asleep, he has a lot of attitude.

2011-08-28T19:49:00.000+10:00

This past weekend was my birthday, I am now 26. I know, it came as kind of a surprise to me too. Today in the car on the drive back from our country weekend, I was thinking about how it felt to be 27...several minutes later I realised that, um, I had turned 26 only the day before. And then I put my shoes on the wrong the feet.

Anyway, I'll give a full birthday recap throughout the week, but today I want to talk about Inspector Climate.

Some of you gave him a bit of a hard time in the comments on the last post about getting married. And trust me I know he says the wrong things sometimes, but I know exactly where his heart is (with me).

In the middle of last week I had Return of the Cyst: Episode Two. In the middle of the night I woke up with such intense pain that I wondered if I was getting killed by Gaddafi (which also holds an important lesson: don't watch the news before bedtime). As I woke up more and realised that my ovaries and possible my uterus were trying to claw their way out of my stomach I knew I was in for a long night. I didn't want to wake up Inspector Climate, so I just held on to my belly and practiced my moaning.

About an hour later, Inspector Climate rolled over - looked at me and asked if I was ok.

I grimaced and said no I wasn't and that my tummy hurt a little.

"Oh, because of the [Insert Name of the Report Here]?"

(Now let me back up a bit and say that Inspector Climate not only has had to deal with the whole visa thing, the cyst thing, but has been working insane hours to get this [Name of the Report Here] in on time....And we're back in).

"Um, no...I've been up for about an hour with really bad tummy pains...are you actually awake?"

"Yes, you just said that you're tummy hurts because you've been working on [Insert Name of the Report Here] for a month"

"Uh...Inspector Climate that's not what I said, but way to make this about you. You're not awake..."

"WhatEVER" he pouted.

Of course, when he did wake up fully and naturally didn't remember a single part of that conversation...he brought me some panadol (for you Americans that's Tylenol) and was careful not to touch me the rest of the night.

Waiting and seeing...(with a pinch of "How I Pictured It")

2011-08-25T07:56:00.001+10:00

A couple of posts ago, I left you with a bit of a cliff hanger. I'd apologise for that except that is exactly how I feel. I am hanging off the cliff hoping someone will tell me it's ok to jump. Because I am ready. I'd rather be jumping and making the mistake then hanging here waiting.

You see, I've been waiting for my visa to get approved for 18 months. It is only a 18 month visa and my further progress in immigrating here means that it needs to be approved AND I need to get a job in my 'field' for 12 of the 18 months of the visa. Are we all clear on the details.

Well, the day before the hospital visit, I received an email from my lawyer which said that the process of them approving my visa is starting which means that I have to re-do all the tests that I've already done like the medical test where I need to get more chest xrays, tested for HIV, and a bunch of other stuff because the tests expire after one year. And I might have to get my English test retaken.

Has that sunk in. The English test. The English test I already took (and passed with flying colours, one might add), and is the only language I speak. Yes, that English test. Those results have potentially "expired".

It is the most ludicrous thing ever. And of course, I have to pay for them all again. When it's not my fault that apparently I'm a "low priority" and so it took them so long to process the stupid pieces of paper.

I also need to get an FBI test where I need to mail my fingerprints to the FBI and a police check here. So that's hundreds of dollars in tests that I've already completed. Just talking about this makes my blood pressure rise and steam come out of my ears.

To add insult to injury, I went to have a meeting with my lawyer to see if there were better options. Inspector Climate and I haven't been living together long enough for us to be "de facto" and we would have to wait until July 2012 to able to apply for that visa. What my lawyer did say was basically "I don't see you getting a job in your appointed field for 12 months."

That's heart warming isn't it? I am so glad he believes in me. Of course part of his reservation is that the requirements are incredibly specific and most of the jobs I WANT to get wouldn't even comply.

He strongly suggested that Inspector Climate and I consider getting married (of course, not for the visa). This is not how Inspector Climate and I pictured getting married, in fact we picture getting married in my mom's garden with our immediate family and gluten free vegetarian organic food piled on plates (ok, maybe that's just my dream). We want to get married in leaf peeper season when the leaves are orange and red and yellow and we want Kyle Hepp and Seba to take our pictures (wedding tentatively planned for 2013 or 2014...Kyle be prepared to be in New England in September - I jest...sort of). This is, clearly, not the first time Inspector Climate and I have talked about marriage, in fact we talk about it quite a lot. But this is the first time we talked about marriage in that we'd be getting married in just a few months.

To be honest, I was kind of excited about it. I love him, I plan on spending the rest of my life with him. Why not get married here with his grandparents present and call it day and have our "real" ceremony later when we planned on it? Inspector Climate is...less ready, and that's ok (and keeps saying the wrong things like "If I have to marry you, I will" what every girl wants to hear). He would much prefer for an impromptu courthouse wedding to be the last resort and would like the wedding that we pictured to be, you know, the real wedding. And how can I argue with that?

To add confusion to this, there is no point in us getting married if this current approval process takes more than 7 months from now - because then we'd be nearly de facto anyway and applying for the new visa would take a while (which means that the current tests I am taking would expire and I'd have to pay for them again). But if the current approval process happens quickly then it makes sense to get married in hopes that THAT visa will go through quickly enough for me to not have to get more chest xrays and take more English tests, potentially.

So basically, we're just waiting and seeing. Waiting to see what hoops to jump through next and waiting on things we can't control (how quickly does the FBI turn around finger prints?). We're waiting and seeing how my most recent email to my lawyer filled with questions and queries about the future state of my life in Australia, my relationship, and my job status will be answered. The man takes days to respond to things, it's ok dude take your time, it's only questions about MARRIAGE (which by the way is not how I thought I would be getting proposed to via my lawyer. Romantic) and my very existence. It's cool, take your time.

It is stressful and exhausting.

So basically, I have no more information to give you. I potentially might be getting married in the next few months or maybe the next few years. I guess we're engaged to be in engaged. We're waiting and seeing.

I've been avoiding writing this

2011-08-23T15:14:00.000+10:00

It wasn't so long ago that I was writing a very similar post for another furry friend. In that post, my friend Kim from Fill Your Well, wrote a comment about how in one native American culture they believe that animal friends stay around your feet once they've passed away which I find both incredibly comforting and heartbreaking. As I walked home from yoga last night, I looked around my feet and saw them all and sobbed for all my friends lost.

About two weeks ago, my dad emailed me to say that our indoor/outdoor cat, Carlita, hadn't come home in about three days which is the longest she's ever been away. Carlita is a food hound and so while in summer she'd go out at night to do some recreational hunting for squirrels, chipmunks, and mice, she'd always be meowing by the screen door in the morning to get her breakfast.

My parents have a flock of guinea hens which just hatched 18 chicks. The inability of the chicks to defend themselves means easy prey for predators like coyotes who have decided to lurk near our house in hopes to get some easy food. In fact, they've killed the two mama guinea hens. The fact they've been hanging out and our precious kitty has now disappeared is more than just a coincidence me thinks.

I've found this death harder to come to terms with because I keep hoping that maybe she's just taking a little kitty vacation in a tree house somewhere on our property. I emailed my dad daily asking if she had come home for days like a child unable to bear the news and the truth. And she was so young, only 11, and so funny. As a kitten she always used to walk around with a hook in her tail and we figured she just grow out of that, like kittens do, but she didn't. She wore it proudly, as she sat on kitchen counters as if she was royalty and demanded to be loved.

She had a fantastic sense of humour, slightly sick, but good. We had a dog that was completely blind, and she'd sit up on a chair and when the blind dog would walk by she'd swipe it with her paw with an evil smile on her face.

She was loving and cuddily.

When we adopted her, she was an abandoned by her mama, she stayed in my bedroom until she was old enough to handle being around the dogs. She slept under the blankets of my bed occasionally attacking my feet. She lazily chased string and as a wee kitten always got poop stuck in her paws, but strangely didn't seem to mind getting put in the bath to have it washed off.

It just doesn't seem quite real. I had big plans for going home this Christmas and opening up the kitty door on my bedroom door (cut especially for her) and letting her snuggle with me at night while I slept. For watching her enjoy playing with the decorations on the Christmas tree, and curling up on the green chair (a chair which is green...?) and reading Vanity Fair while she purred lovingly on my lap. For the first time since before I was born, there is not a cat at my parents' house and I honestly cannot comprehend it.

When Inspector Climate came to my house last year, he sat down on a chair and was totally and utterly shocked when Carlita came to sit on his lap for a cuddle. Having only grown up with a shy slightly mean kitty, Inspector Climate refused to move while Carlita was near him for fear that she would leave his lap. Carlita was a sucker for love and wouldn't leave unless you literally forced her off your lap. "take a picture, take a picture" Inspector Climate would insist when she'd cuddle with him made my heart bubble over that he was excited to be with one of my furry friends, but more importantly that she had given my love her furry stamp of approval.

And so, while I can't help but hold out a little bit of hope that perhaps now, weeks later, she'll somehow come home, I must finally say goodbye to the sweetest kitty.

There has been too much 'living the content' for my liking.

2011-08-21T15:07:00.000+10:00

Bitches, it's been quite the week. It started off with an email from my lawyer to discuss the hell that is visas and immigration and ended with a job offer on a Saturday which only confused me more because seriously, what day of the week is it anyway?

On Friday (a week ago), I received a call from a job being all "can you come in on Wednesday for an interview" which OF COURSE I can. As I got on the train home from work, my stomach started to feel not so nice. Well, not so much my stomach but there was a stabbing pain in my side right next to my hip bone. In fact it hurt so much, that it took me twenty three minutes to walk the 6 minutes home from the train station which included 4 stops to sit down on the side of the street. I slumped against a wall holding my lower abdomen and grimacing, a young man carrying golf clubs stopped to ask if I was ok. With tears streaming down my face, I forced a smile and nodded that I was fine and he kept walking. I was touched that he'd even bother to ask but what could I tell him?

I curled up in bed, unable to stand up straight, and waited for Inspector Climate to come home. We ate some food, and when 9 pm rolled around and the stabbing pain continued and the moaning was reaching an obscene level, Inspector Climate asked me to look on line to check my symptoms which I declared with a stead fast "no, google will say I have cancer of the abs and that death is imminent!" But Inspector Climate didn't heed my warnings and we googled. It was then that we got a little bit terrified that I was suffering from a hernia and so, I crossed something off my list of things that I never wanted to do in a foreign country which was take a trip to the emergency room.

By 12, I'd seen the doctor and many a man who had been apart of some kind of drunken early Friday night brawl and had left the ER with a $140 bill and the diagnosis of cysts in my ovaries. Fantastic. While I have to go get an ultra sound a various other tests before anything is known for sure, I've been putting it off because in a week I have to get another medical for my visa (including yet another chest x-ray to make sure I don't have TB).

As it's my first trip to the ER ever, I don't have much to compare it to. But I did find it a little strange that I had to discuss my symptoms in detail in basically the waiting room. "oh yes, my last menstrual cycle was two weeks ago...does that guy who just got hit by a car need to know that too?" I also found it strange that there was no paperwork for me to fill out - and that I had to stand for like 15 minutes to talk through my issues when I was in quite a bit of pain, "no I'm not doubled over in pain, I am just inspecting the cleanliness of the floor..."

Anyway, I feel better now, thank you for your concerned tweets, tune in next time to hear my visa woes.

(Sneak preview: I might be donning a white dress sooner than expected).

Since you asked, yes, I am doing a happy dance.

2011-08-18T05:00:00.007+10:00

A big thank you to the SITS girls for allowing thousands (literally thousands, ya'll) of women (and men? maybe?) to roll in the sauce, which isn't so much a secret recipe as a giant sprinkling of comments and support spread thickly over blogs. Yum.

Welcome My SITStahs. I am a 25 year old American who has found her self a home in Melbourne, Australia. Yeah, I am not really sure how that happened either, but I am loving it!

I just moved in with my boyfriend, Inspector Climate (spoiler not his real name) and our lemon tree.

If there are three things you should know about me it's this:

1. I dance when I am happy
2. I am a gluten free vegetarian...which basically means I don't eat out much. But I bake a lot.
3. I share an uncanny resemblance to Shirley Temple...

Thank you for stopping by, I'm so excited to visit your blogs!

Also, I'm in the middle of getting my blog redesigned, so until there are pretty buttons on the sidebar, if you're interested in following me on twitter here's the link!

I cook other things besides lemon desserts - No, really, it's true!

2011-08-15T17:00:00.001+10:00

Come on over and check out my new shiny about me page. Fancy!

Last weekend, after slaving over some Whole Lemon Muffins, I made some lentil burgers for dinner. Having been a vegetarian for more than half my life, burgers make me really skeptical. I HATE when they try to make veggie burgers taste like meat - I don't eat meat, why would I want some artificial substitute. Ew. Anyway, the point is these lentil burgers from Four Leaf Clover, seemed like the perfect veggie-tastic lentil mix.

You'll need:

1 cup red lentils
4 Carrots
3 Celery Ribs
2 small onions or one jumbo onion
salt and pepper
1/2 teaspoon of cayenne
1 teaspoon of chopped herb (I used Coriander because it is what I had - and I used more than a teaspoon).
1 cup bread crumbs (I used gluten free corn crumb)
olive oil.

Boil some water and dump your lentils in, cook for 10-13ish minutes or until lentils are soft. Preheat the oven to 180 C.

Meanwhile, in food processor chop onion, carrot, celery together:

Dump into bowl and add the bread crumbs, salt and pepper, and spices. Once lentils are cooked, drain them and add them to the bowl. Mix together. Form into small patties and place on a baking tray. Take a truly terrible, slightly blurry, low light photo of said burgers. Now the recipe calls for lightly brushing the burgers with some olive oil on both sides. I only brushed the top of the burgers and they totally stuck on the bottom (lessen learned, brush the bottom too). However, the tops never really got super crispy or lightly browned like I expected them too which was kind of disappointing. So I might have to experiment a little on how to get them crisp and brown better. Also I think chopping some garlic with the rest of the veggies might be yummy as well.

These are absolutely delicious with ketchup!

We made a full recipe and got 15 burgers or so. And they were super yummy for lunches. Do you have any ideas on how to make them crisp and brown better? They were starting to burn on the edges because I'd left them in for so long, but still no browning on top! Grr!

This makes recipe 11 for my life list!

How I pictured it: What I was going to do (Spoiler unemployment was not considered)

2011-08-11T05:00:00.002+10:00

I am amazed and thankful for the outpouring of comments on my last "How I pictured it" post. I had the post in my draft folder for months and almost deleted it because I thought no one would care, and then I remembered I write this blog for me and hit publish because I like to live on the edge. And who woulda thunk it, but ya'll had childhood dreams too - CRAZY.

Anyway, so again, this is a post about the dreams I had as a kid and what my life has now turned out like as well, still a kid I guess. I know some kids have many dreams "I am going to be a pilot" "An Astronaut" "a professional princess", but I only had one dream as a kid, well in fact right up until my first year of college. I had pretty strong convictions about what being a grown up was going to look like and how I would turn what I love into making money. (Tune in next week for who I thought I would be spending my life with).

I've always loved animals. I mean love to the point where I've never seen Bambi because (spoiler) a baby animal loses its parent. Lassie is probably the most heart wrenching thing ever, and don't even THINK you can get me to watch an episode. Who cares about Timmy? It's his own damn fault for falling in the well. And don't get me started on Homeward Bound. That movie has SCARRED ME.

Ahem, particularly, and I may have mentioned this, I love puppies. I have a special connection with dogs - I draw them to me and we cuddle. It's just what I do. In fact just the another night I came back to our apartment from yoga and announced to Inspector Climate "I got puppy kisses today!" I just was walking down the street and a dog just had to stop and lick my hand.

I remember being 6 or 7 and people asking what I was going to be when I grew up and the answer was always a vet. Always. Through high school I always wanted to be vet. I even did an equine massage class and a 3 month internship with a vet. I decided that I didn't really want to be a normal vet, I wanted to do acupuncture, massage, and chiropractics on horses, dogs and cats. I pictured living on a farm (ie the one in New England with the view that I'd kick my parents out of) and having animals and living my life like James Harriot saving animals and forming connections with them. Loving them.

It became pretty obvious to me when I started college that the courses I selected would determine what I could do in regards to graduate school. It also became clear that I wasn't up for years and years of schooling for a job that wasn't perfect for me anyway. Vet programs are seriously competitive, more so than med school, and in the end, I wouldn't be doing what I wanted. And while there are courses that offer animal acupuncture and chiropractics few people take you seriously if you aren't a vet first. And maybe these sound like excuses to you, they sound like excuses to me now too. But one December day in my first semester, after looking up vet schools in Canada and the US to find out the requirements to their programs and picturing being 30 before I was doing what I wanted - I decided that maybe it wasn't for me after all.

It sounds callous now, but the pain of working nights at some vet clinic when I am so obviously a morning person, and the stress of competing for spots in programs that didn't 100 per cent fit my dreams, I couldn't do it. So I let it go.

So what I am doing now? Now I am fighting to get a job in protecting the environment so animals will have a place to live. If direct hands on animal action wasn't for me, then I was going to go to the biggest problem that we all face: Climate Change.

And what I pictured, with the idyllic James Harriot farm land, I still envision for myself. And if I move back to the states, it will still be on my parents farm. And if I stay in Australia, Tassie watch out - there's an American coming. The puppies, the kitties, a cow, horses and some chickens, all living together interconnected and interdependent and sustaining me (mostly with kisses). Breathing their animal joy into me so I can go fight other battles - like getting you to stop buying water bottles (no really, stop).

I guess the real difference is I am perfectly happy to pay someone else to neuter my dog, but I'll still give my horses shots thank you very much.

Are you doing what you thought you'd be doing as a kid?

When you spend the weekend baking, you better have something to show for it. And I do.

2011-08-09T07:21:00.001+10:00

Besides making lemon curd on a weekly basis (you should see my arms, whisking makes you ripped), our lemon stash is slowly slowly shrinking due to baking adventures. This week, the baking adventure was whole lemon muffins. I used this recipe from the blog Smells like Home. I have a secret to tell you, I've found the secret to gluten-free baking and that secret is sour cream. Shhh. It makes everything delicious.

So you'll need.

1 whole lemon cut into quarters with the seeds removed (remember because you're using a WHOLE lemon, I really must insist you use an organic one).
1 cup walnuts (although if you're allergic substituting poppy seeds looks yummy!).
1 cup butter softened
1.5 cups sugar
3 eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 teaspoon baking soda
2 tablespoons baking powder
2 2/3 cups flour (I used all purpose white wings gluten free flour)
1 teaspoon salt
1 2/3 cups sour cream or plain yogurt

Preheat the oven to 350 F. And lightly grease or line your muffin tin. This recipe made 12 jumbo muffins for me and 5 petite muffins. Which all in all is a LOT of muffins.

First in a food processor grind up the lemon and remove from bowl. Without cleaning the food processor grind up walnuts and add to the lemon it should look something like this (although it probably won't have my shadow):

The recipe calls for fitting your food processor with a paddle attachment, but I just used a big bowl and a handmixer for the following steps. Before you get to that though measure your flour and rising agents and set them aside and measure out your sour cream and set that aside.

Then, cream the butter. Add the sugar and beat until light and fluffy. Add all the eggs, all at once - I know, it's wild. Then beat until well combined. Then add the vanilla and beat again. Next begin adding 1/3 of the flour mixture and beat until incorporated. Then add 1/2 of the sour cream. And beat again. Continue in this way, ending with flour, until it has all been incorporated. Then gently mix in the lemon and nut mixture.

Gently spoon the mixture into the muffin tin until it comes just to the top of tray and bake for 18-25 minutes or until a tooth pick comes out crumb free.

I serve mine with a dollop of lemon curd because I can't help myself and we have tubs of it in the fridge! Not shown because I can never remember to take a picture when the lemon curd is near, I am too busy spooning it into my mouth with a ladle.

Updated this is number 10 on my life list to cook 100 new recipes.

How I Pictured It: The Setting

2011-08-04T15:30:00.001+10:00

In recent days I've been thinking a lot about what I imagined my life would like when I was a tween - you know when teen angst was just setting in - to how it's turned out now. Like most people, I had a picture what I thought I was going to turn out like, where I was going to live, what I was going to be doing, who I was going to be in love with (John Cusack) and how that relationship would unfold.

And to be clear, it isn't that I had some calendar with dates marked for when stuff would be accomplished or how I'd feel at what age, but there are certainly some things that I pictured that certainly aren't my reality and now. Some are clear choices I made a long the way. Decisions had to be made and I chose one thing over another for whatever reason and that doesn't mean that they're wrong choices or right ones, but they have certainly led the way to different. I thought maybe I'd take some time to reflect on those childhood aspirations and projections.

Growing up if anyone asked me where I was going to live when I was an adult I only had one answer -- I was going to kick my parents out of our house and live there. Clearly. I could never imagine "home" being somewhere else besides that house on a hill in New England. What would waking up look like if I didn't have this view:

I mean seriously.

My mom brings up these stories of my explaining to family members how I would kick them out and live in our house a lot now. She shakes her head sadly and wonders where things went wrong, how instead of never leaving home, I ended up, literally, on the opposite side of the world. In some ways it's easy to chronicle how I came to live in Australia. It was a three part move

1. I hated college so much that I really needed to escape it.

2. I've always been obsessed with Australia - kind of inexplicably.

3. Once I did a semester abroad in Australia, and was so happy, I had to come back.

In other ways, it still boggles the mind that when I open my door I walk outside into Melbourne. Where my August birthday is a winter event and my view isn't various shades of green but a suburban street. To say this isn't how I pictured it is the biggest understatement. I think it goes without saying that I wouldn't have it any other way.

When I picture the future though, things haven't changed all that much. In fact that when I think about moving back to the US (which I do often and Inspector Climate and I talk about a lot too), there is only one place I can ever imagine living. Home.

Are you where you pictured you'd be?

Taking the plunge - metaphorically and literally.

2011-08-01T17:05:00.000+10:00

While things have continued to be angsty over in Decoybettyland, they've also continued in the domestic bliss and even in the "make things happen for yourself" realms of my life.

I hate to stoop to potty talk, but let me tell you something I've observed about Australian 'toilets'. I can't think of one domestic toilet that I've been to in Australia that comes with a trash can. I don't know why Australians are against trash cans in their bathrooms, but it means that I have to carry around tampon wrappers and used floss which doesn't make me a happy girl. Secondly, I've never seen a bathroom with a plunger in it. This is particularly concerning for me because I have a history (and I am not proud of it) of backing up toilets, and yet no where has a plunger NO WHERE. What is up with that? Are Australian toilets impervious to getting backed up (what's their secret?)? Does it have something to do with being upside down, water spinning the other way down the drain, and down under? So many questions.

First, let's talk domestic bliss, over the weekend Inspector Climate put in a load of washing while I sat on our bed and worked on a job application. Soon, he was running from the kitchen through the bedroom to the bathroom with tupperware containers full of water.

"Do I want to know what is happening?" I asked.

"The sinks backed up and the washing machine is draining right into the sink and it's about to overflow"

"Would you like some help?"

"No, I think I got it"... Until 15 minutes later...

"D, get a tupperware container!"

And so we bailed out the sink as the washing machine continued to drain (yay! it drains). Our first thought was perhaps that the drain was clogged so we poured down some vicious life killing drain cleaner which only seemed to make matters worse. We were afraid we'd have to call the land lord for the THIRD time to send someone to fix something in our apartment (we've lived here for month). But Inspector Climate decided that a plunger would fix everything and so he went out and bought one. And who woulda thunk it, but plungers DO fix everything. Our sink (and washing machine! Inspector Climate 2 - house 0) both drain. MAGIC.

In more metaphorical plunging terms, I am planning a vacation (and ya'll I am excited) to Vanuatu in November. I wondered, if just maybe, I could leverage this blog to produce some discounts/upgrades on hotels and tours. And you guys would not believe it, but it did! I can't wait to share them with you in a few short months!

After my last post, full of the sad song of "why oh why's" it's rejuvenating knowing that I can achieve, albeit small, change. I can make it happen. And so why stop there? In the next few months, I am going to try and diversify my earnings (is that a thing if you're unemployed?) and put advertising on this blog. If you're interested please send me an email (my address is on the side bar under "did you know") and I'll send you my stats and prices (suggestions?), and anything else you'd like know...

And with this new found motivation I am going to start the job hunt again (although, I technically still have a job, I think). I want to thank you for all the comments from the last post, bitches you made my day.

So, are you ready to take the plunge?

In case you missed the unemployed angst.

2011-07-28T15:51:00.001+10:00

I've been having so much fun finding Australian bloggers to read. One of my favourites is The Many Colours of Happiness. One of her recent posts is about playing the victim card. And particularly this week, this post was pretty fitting for me.

My job is nearing completion - maybe. And then I'll be back into the abyss that is unemployed land. I watch as people around me get great jobs, great internships, and I know why it is happening for them - they worked really hard to make it happen. They did other intern-y things, they volunteered, they did extra stuff that no one asked them to do, they motivated themselves to make it happen.

I feel like I've lost that drive a little. I got two rejection letters this week from jobs that I was quite a good fit for. Not even an interview. I take those rejections a lot better than I used to, I used to cry every time even if I didn't want the job. My feelings would be so hurt that they didn't even WANT me that my only response was tears. Now that I shrug them off, I wonder if I've become impervious and what that really means about me. Of course, I don't actually shrug them off, if I was really apathetic I wouldn't be writing this blog post right now would I?

But I've certainly lost some of that drive and motivation to make this happen for myself. I'm exhausted from pushing myself to be a people person when I am not, to constantly make my past achievements sound better than they are, and don't get me started on how tired I am of worrying all the time about whether I'll ever make this happen for myself.

Internet, I need my bitches help.

How do you stay motivated and inspired and passionate about something that slaps you in the face time and time again? What are your tried and true methods to stop feeling like a victim and start making yourself go out there and do it (to quote the US - to be all that you can be).

Another cooking post? Yes. Yes indeed.

2011-07-26T07:07:00.000+10:00

I've been feeling a little bit sick and a tad cranky, so sorry for the double up on the cooking front. But it's all I got going on in my life right now. See, our new apartment is cold - this might be because we're too cheap (and too environmentalist) to turn on the heat - but it also means that having a super warm and feeling dinner is totally ideal. So last week, I wanted to make a super super yummy protein filled chilli! I used this recipe, but made some slight adjustments because Inspector Climate is a delicate flower and doesn't like spicey food.

So, below you'll see some of the ingredients that give the soup all the flavour.

You'll need.

1 chopped onion (not pictured)
2 chopped carrots
1 red capsicum (mine is turning red, but not fully red).
2 chillies (it certainly could have used more spice in my opinion)
2 normal cans of diced tomatoes
1 chopped potato
3 cups water
2 cans black beans
2 cans kidney beans
1/2 cup red quinoa (the recipe calls for bulgur but I can't eat that so I subbed in quinoa).
2 t white wine vinegar (I used rice wine vinegar because it's what we had)
5 finely chopped garlic
1/2 t chilli powder (again Inspector Climate is a delicate flower - it could have used more).
1.5 t cumin
1.5 t ground coriander
.5 t cinnamon
1 cup frozen corn

step 1. get a chopping!

Step 2. heat some olive oil in a giant pot and throw in all the veggies (except corn). Cook into onions and capsicum are slightly tender. Take a horrible picture.

Add tomatoes, water, beans, white vinegar, spices, garlic and quinoa. Bring to a boil and then turn down to simmer. Cook until the quinoa releases its tendrils and the soup has thickened. About 20 minutes. Then add the corn and cook until defrosted.

Serve with some sour cream or grated cheese (OR BOTH) and use corn tortilla chips to dip into the soup when it's too hot to eat by the spoonful

I forgot to take a picture of the soup before we ate it because I was hungry!!! so here are the left overss about to go in the fridge

The soup was yummy. It was filling, could have been spicier and lasted for 3 dinners and two lunches (it was fabulous as beans on toast...I know, I've finally embraced beans on toast.) So if you're not into leftovers make a half recipe.

I realise it is like a billion degrees for a lot of you right now, but trust me, file this recipe away for the colder months and enjoy!

And if you're keeping track this makes recipe # 9 on my life list.

Lemon curd is delicious, but the name could use some help.

2011-07-22T05:12:00.002+10:00

I am afraid that things are going to be a little food heavy over the next couple of weeks around here. See, last weekend Inspector Climate and I went to visit his parents for the weekend. On the way there we stopped at a family friend's house to say hi. This family friend had a giant lemon tree outside and is a potato farmer. He offered to give us a BAG OF LEMONS and a bag of potatoes. How's that for locally grown produce?

We also stopped at another family friend's house and she offered us a bag of home grown kiwis. Holy nom nom nom, ya'll. (I grew up calling the fruit pictured below, kiwis. Did you? Australians call them Kiwi fruits - as to not confuse them with their New Zealand neighbours, I guess? I certainly hate when this happens "do you have an kiwis?" "No, I am out of New Zealanders today..." AWKWARD).

Seriously, these are some incredible kiwis. So tasty and tiny. YUM.

And here are our bags of food. Look at all those lemons!

I didn't want to fool you into thinking that I've suddenly gotten good at taking photos (I can't and my camera is a jerkface), so here is a behind the scenes shot of trying to properly light our goodies.

Having all these lemons means that I need to get my gluten free bake on something fierce. So, today I decided to try out this recipe for lemon curd.

You'll need:

2 eggs + 2 yolks
I only used 5/8 cup of sugar because I assumed these lemons being freshly picked and all would be sweet enough, but the recipe calls for 3/4 cup. I think I could probably have used even a little bit less to be honest.
80g or 1/2 cup of cold unsalted butter
Zest and juice of two lemons.

First you'll need to put your 2 eggs and 2 yolks and sugar into a saucepan and whisk until smooth and combined. Then measure out your butter and juice and zest your lemons.

Next, place on a very low heat and whisk continuously until the mixture thickens.

This took an extremely long time of constant whisking, like 40- 45 minutes I'd say (this is a completely guesstimate). After it thickens you can strain it and keep it in the fridge for up to two weeks, but I doubt it will last that long - and depending on your love of lemon, straining might be considered optional.

Even though my hands were red from all the whisking as soon as it thickened and I'd spread the lemon curd on two pieces of gluten free toast all was forgiven because DAMN, bitches, this shit is good.

Like seriously good, like I want to use that whole bag of lemons to make lemon curd and then I want to swim in it. Yeah, that good.

For those of you keeping track at home, this makes my 8th new recipe for my life list.