I wanna dance! (PM)

I am so into  this adult beginners ballet caper. Especially now that I know it is classical ballet and not the jazz ballet my mum originally indicated when she told me about it in an email last week. I did jazz ballet when I was about 10 or 11 and it was a bad idea then and would be an even worse idea now.  Also, totally useless if my first few days in New Orleans are anything to go by. Jazz on every corner but not a single step ball-change, the quintessential jazz ballet move, to be found. I think jazz ballet is to dance what Esperanto is to language. A bunch of bullshit, and an embarrassment.
Classical ballet, however. That's a total classic. I'm totally going to try it when I get back. Do you have to sign up to a whole term, or can you just go casual style?

I read your words about looking like a pudgy five year old in a leotard, and I understand what they mean, but I still pretty badly want to wear a leotard. And a bun. And have really good posture and stuff.

I wanna dance too!

I wanna dance! (AM)

So I guess it’s time I told you guys that 3 weeks ago I started doing ballet classes. Yes, adult beginner ballet.

When I decided to try ballet it was for a bunch of reasons. Exercise, to try something new – challenge myself, you know? – to gain some poise and grace. But have no illusions, friends, starting ballet does nothing for a beginner but make you feel at best clumsy and at worst ridiculous. Strike that, reverse it, at least ridiculous is funny. Clumsy is just awkward. 

I should have known really, based on when I first bought the ballet outfit. Yes, for beginner ballet you must wear a leotard, tights and ballet slippers. I’d be lying if I said that in fact wasn’t a little bit of the appeal. When I got my ensemble home and tried it on I felt immediately more graceful, all that tight lycra sucking in all my bumps and lumps. It wasn’t unlike the first time I wore Skins. But then I looked at myself in the mirror and that was completely unlike the first time I wore Skins, which actually do make you look pretty good. It turns out that pale pink ballet tights and flats with a leotard make me look like a pudgy 5-year-old girl. And I guess that is basically the ballet experience in a nutshell.  

That first lesson kind of went like this: “Ok class, to begin feet – first position, second position, fourth and fifth. Now arms, first, second, third, fifth. This is a plié, demi plié. Rond de jambe. To the front,  side, derrier. Point de this, point de that, combination, combination, port de bras, five, six, seven, eight.” 90 minutes later and FIN and me thinking what the fuck just happened?

Subsequent lessons seemed to go a little slower and I could follow the combinations slightly better. Though I still don't know my tendu from my fondu. I also learned to appreciate the fact that all the music is just piano versions of pop and musical songs. Feel free to picture me jumping  around to the theme from the Muppets and calling it ballet, because that is an actual thing that happens. And  when a slow piano rendition of “Don’t you want me baby?” started playing I really started to feel like I was in A Chorus Line* and I just keep thinking how great it would be to practice pliés to “One” one day.

Finally of course every time my arms are in second position I get to thing about Partick Swayze telling Baby off for her spaghetti arms. 

So do I even need to tell you that I I love ballet?!

*I know that song isn't from A Chorus Line, it's just the vibe of it. 

Instagram and me (PM)

Well, I haven't joined instagram yet. Mainly because I am lazy. I accept it means that I am missing out on some hilarious things. But it also means I get to keep enjoying getting emails from J that say "hey, you really should get on instagram", accompanied by a picture of Jared Leto hugging a tree. Lots of Jared Letos hugging trees. I really like that.
And frankly, I don't need any additional messages from the outside world telling me about the great pastries and dough based products that I could be eating. I've been in Paris this weekend and I'm putting that shit away like it's going out of fashion. Today I have eaten more dough based products than I care to mention. OK, OK, I'll mention. Today alone I have had bites of croissant, eclair, sable, baguette and lemon tart. Also, this thing called a Paris Brest.

 
Just today! But shit, that All Day Donuts sounds like a nice time. And not a place I've heard of until today. I guess I would have known if I was on Instagram...

Instagram and me (AM)

I'm always writing to K telling her to get on Instagram so she can see pictures like this:

This:

This: 

and this:

It's possible she's joined secretly but she's missing out by not following me because my account is pretty good. 

Ok, it seems better in Instagram. 

Of course the downside of Instagram for a modern girl like me is that I also follow a bunch of food-related IG accounts and while some are harmless enough, others are nothing but trouble. I'm looking at you dough-based businesses of Melbourne! 

Friday before last I tried All Day Donuts because their Instagram account promised delicious things. And  their Instagram account was right to make that promise. And then last Friday I saw this picture:

And I effing went back and tried them again. I don't know if you can read those signs but they include 'rose creme' and 'strawberry cheesecake'! Strawberry cheesecake! That is two of the world's best things together in a donut! Shiiiit!

And just when I was thinking about how Instagram was going to get me fat it told me about the Flour Market. A meeting of the great dough makers of Melbourne just blocks from my house. So what did I do on Sunday? Guess. 

Well you're only half right. Because me and every hipster dough-lover of Melbourne was lining up to get a piece of the dough. And  in fact as I'd been walking to the Flour Market I was already  questioning why I was out of the house before 10am on a Sunday just to buy doughs I could buy some other time not in a hall full of people, so you can bet when I saw the queue I just got the hell out of there. 

But it was great, up on a sunny blue-skied winter morning walking around, we caught the tram to the city and walked around there which is quite delightful on a Sunday morning. Went to the market where I bought apples in preparation for next week's chutney club and I was home by 1pm feeling super productive. I thought Instagram was making me fat but it's just making me awesome! Another win for me and Instagram! 

Some things I need to catch you up on (PM)

It's true sometimes there's kind of minor boring things you like to tell a person but it seems way to boring to email about. Problem for me is that I pretty much have no filter so I've probably told K all my boring stuff. But I'm sure I can cobble something together. 

1. For example, I haven't seen any Malfoys but I did see this guy whose name I always forget. 

It's Daniel Wyllie. I just saw him in my street. It was totally uneventful and I would have forgotten if LB and his sister hadn't been talking about minor celebrity sitings the very same night!

2. I bought green jeans and I love them! They are a sort of dull moss green from Alpha 60. Here, I'll show you. 

I've gotta tell ya I've always shied away from any jean that isn't black or blue but I love these bad boys so hard I want to buy them all over again. Is it just because they are new and fresh? Maybe! But it's also because it opens up a whole new palette. And I love it!! 

3. I hate my hair. But what else is new. 

Some things I need to catch you up on (AM)

Being overseas and away from all my people makes communication hard. I know it's 2014 and we have skype and email and all that great stuff which in many ways makes communicating very easy, and makes the world feel small. All that stuff is great. We can share all the important milestones no matter where in the world we are. But what about the unimportant milestones? The stuff that only warrants a very very small amount of attention, and would normally be conveyed during such mundane moments as when you're walking from the car to the place that you're going to hang out with your buddies? It's that stuff that's harder to share when you're not in the same space. 

Normally I would see J once a week or so and tell her about all the super important AND the super mundane things in my life. But somehow they don't seem appropriate to write in an email. A blog post on the other hand. That's a different story. 

So, here's some things I've been meaning to tell J. 

1. I saw Draco Malfoy's mother. 

Since I've been away I've had some exciting celebrity spotting moments, including Sinn Fein leader Gerry Adams, fashion designer and friend of GOOP Stelly McCartney and everyone's favourite tenn bad-boy Spike from Press Gang. But then the other night I went to see a play (Medea) and who should be in it but none other than Draco Malfoy's mother. It was rad.

2. Last weekend I hung out with a Sami.

Remember how you really dig on Lapland and the Sami people? Well last weekend I hung out with a lady who is half Sami! She is one of Appleheart's buddies and she comes from a place in far north Sweden. Last week, she came for a visit. She is very cool. Her uncle is a proper Sami reindeer herdsman, but only part time because for heaps of the year the reindeer are just off hanging out in the wilderness and there's not much for a Sami to do. So I think he does web design or something when he's not live la vida Sami. It's so cool. And she is one of those people who's not fazed by anything. She is calm and composed like a Swedish Paul Roos. 

3. No scrubs update. I love my no scrubs lifestyle. It's so much easier than scrub life. But much like scrub life, there are good hair days and bad ones. I'm pretty happy with the good ones but the bad ones really make me question what I'm doing. 

Here's where we're I'm at today. I quite like it. I'm sure to hate it tomorrow but today we are quite happy together. 

Will I ever forgive? (PM)

Sucks to be you, mate, I'm sorry. I've heard mixed reviews of the ape movie but I'm just going to come right out and say it, if I am going to see a mediocre Hollywood movie I want some goddamn hunks in it. Unless you are going to underutilise said hunk by keeping their shirt on the entire time (I'm looking at you Tim Burton!) then it just makes me angry. As has been established. Repeatedly. Hunks! Not unknown Australian that looks as if he were in Home and Away like some lesser Hemsworth.

Anyway over here in M-town School of Rock was on TV and even though I've seen it many, many times I just really like it a lot. In fact when we turned it on I immediately smiled.  It was an excellent way to forget about the troubles of the world.

And because I want everyone to be as lucky as I was last night I've included these unnecessary hunk pictures in this post for you. 

Your welcome!

Will I ever forgive? (AM)

I just got back from the cinema. I thought I'd take a break from worrying about everything that is going on in the world by taking in some light entertainment. We went to see Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, of course. I really really should have known better. It just made me annoyed and more worried about the world with its lameness and boringness.  

The problem is that though I enjoyed the James Franco slice of the franchise pizza, too much damage that was done with the under-utilisation of Marky Mark in the Tim Burton version. I'm still angry!  Every time the film would venture into either boring or lame territory, which I  you was very frequently, I couldn't stop thinking about Mark Whalberg and getting really mad. It's just such a goddamned  waste, no matter how many years go by. This version has some guy who's name I don't even know and Felicity from Felicity. Boring!

Oh wow, apparently this guy's name is Jason Clarke and he's Australian. Who knew?

Anyway, the only enjoyable thing about the film was when Ceasar looked at a photo of him with Franco and it made him sad. Ha! 

Still, it wasn't enough to make me not worry about the world.  

The Clean Dream (PM)

It really is no wonder, isn't it? New clothes are clean and fresh like so few of my actual clothes. And sometimes they smell really nice and you want to take that nice smell home with you too. It's a case of wanting to buy the clothes because you really want to buy a cleaner fresher way of life.
But like commenter Sarah says, nothing gold can stay. As soon as the clothes come home the clock starts ticking on their cleanliness and freshness because real life is not clean and fresh, it's a little bit grubby. It's not shop-soiled goods you have to worry about, in my world all the soiling happens at home. Gee, do I sound like a creep or what?

So check it out, the news in London is awash with stories about the heat wave that's coming over the next few days. Guess what the weather is going to be? 32 degrees!
HAHAHAHAHA!

Appleheart and I are going to take the opportunity to have a picnic in the park, as you can see from the picture of us above, where we are in the future having a picnic and being played by GOOP and her former husband. I know things are a  little chilly down south and I know how good I've got it, being able to sit in a park with exposed skin. So that's what I'm going to do. See you next week, Crab Friends.

The clean dream (AM)

Me* in my jeans and jumper

As if having one's wardrobe dictated by weather conditions isn't difficult enough, breastfeeding adds another confounding factor. Add to that a nonexistent social life and it's a wonder I'm ever in anything but a button-front muumuu. (I wish! I'd flipping love a button-front muumuu.) But despite needing to wear warm clothes with easy access to my boobs and nowhere to go, I'm thinking about clothes a lot. All I wear is jeans and jumpers. Jeans and jumpers. Both of which I probably have enough of to cater for my home-bound lifestyle and yet. And yet...

Recently though something hit me. It was Baby. That kid is always running into me or whacking me for some reason or another.  But something else hit me too, this desire for new clothes it's not just a desire for new clothes. And it's not just a desire for the hot new life you imagine those clothes will bring you. I mean obviously I know my desire for new clothes is about filling some deep void within me. But that's not what I'm talking about. It's also about a desire for sharp grooming. Cleanliness. 

The other day I tried on a pair of jeans and a jumper at a shop. It was a cute kit, I liked it a lot, the cut and colour of the jeans and jumper but I knew it was not dissimilar to all I had at home when suddenly I realised the difference. They were so fresh, so clean. The jeans not faded or worn at the knees or other bulgy bits that stress the fabric. The sweater was totally pill-free. I looked so goddamn fresh. That's what happens when you try on new clothes. They are clean, fresh, better than all your other clothes. No wonder I want them all the time. No wonder we all do. 

But that change room revelation was great! It's given me power to say no. Oh sure I'm going to buy clothes again that I don't need but it's just one more tool in my arsenal of resistance and that is OK by me!

*Here I am played by GOOP

Ski trip 2014 (PM)

Snow is beautiful and wonderful and one of the greatest things about winter. Providing you've got the right gear. There's a saying in Norway, apparently, which goes "There's no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothing". By which they mean clothing of insufficient warmth, not, like, jeggings or something. So snow, with the right gear, is a delight.

It sounds like a fun time was had by all (on the whole) and though Baby's tears are heartbreaking, they are also very very cute.


I went away this weekend too! To York. It's a very pretty town.

Buildings that look like this.

Middle class graffiti that looks like this:
















And nearby, some cliffs where hundreds of seabirds come to nest at this time of year, including Puffins. 

That's a rock covered in nesting gannets. But we saw heaps of puffins too. It was great.
And I also ate the best pork pie I've ever had.  We had it on the run as we were walking around town, only I told everyone to go ahead without me while I stopped and ate mine. After one bite, I knew it was pretty special and because I can't multitask, I didn't want to risk being anything other than 100% focused on it. God it was good.

Ski trip 2014 (AM)

Last night I got back from a few days at Thredbo. It's funny going to the snow from Melbourne. I guess because the climate is so completely different it feels like going on a big holiday. It kind of rules. I felt after four days like it was a pretty nice break. l met a woman who'd been there three weeks. It made me think "Whoa she must be loaded" and "That must feel like a million years." And also "Nice life!"

The snow is a weird place. Firstly, it's so beautiful.  

There's funny things about it though. Like at the snow a house automatically becomes a chalet which makes it seems so much more glamourous. (Although  Wikipedia has some interesting things to say on this).

Even if the bookshelf is full of Danielle Steele novels the fact it is in a chalet makes it classy. And somehow a shelf full of Danielle Steele novels seems appropriate in a chalet. 

And faux fur throws which would otherwise seem gross seem awesome.

Baby did skiing lessons which reminded me of my first skiing lessons and made me realise that a lifetime of experiences makes going through mildly traumatic or difficult experiences so much easier. If your lifetime is 35 years and not 4 years. 

Apparently if you only have a 4-year lifetime of experiences, falling over repeatedly on snow while wearing planks on your feet feels even shitter than if you have 35 years of experience. But learning to ski still rules! 

But not as much as going on a waterslide. 

No scrubs update (PM)

Mate! These are exciting times. You are at a turning point in your No Scrubs journey! Stand strong matey. Your hair looks great in those pictures. 

I can understand your desire to wash but just wait. I think the baking soda and vinegar thing may be worth trying down the track. You know if your hair was a fridge. Ha! Just jokes. You should try it but just consolidate the no scrubs I reckon. 

Me, I'm up at the snow right now. I don't know what the altitude and frigidity is doing to my hair. And frankly I don't want to know. 

No scrubs update (AM)

I'm a few weeks in to the No Scrubs experiment and shit is getting interesting.  Here is a reminder of what my hair looked like when last we spoke about it:

Frizzy. I think that's the word for it. 

Here's what's happening on my head right now...

Less frizz, right?! Right. A bit of curl, right?! Right. 

And in general, my hair feels a lot fuller and while it looks a lot more wild, it feels a lot more predictable and manageable. These are very good things. But I can't like to you Crabbies, I kind of miss washing my hair. I miss having it as an option if I want to look a bit nice. Not that it really worked that way in practice, but it felt like that's the way it worked and that perception was a powerful thing. 

At the moment, I spend half the time I designate to thinking about hair loving it and touching it. The other half I worry about how greasy it looks.  I've been told it doesn't look greasy at all, but it's on my mind. Literally! Ha. Not really. My mind is not on my scalp, that's crazy. 

I'm going to soldier on, of course. I'm considering trying 'washing' it in baking soda and conditioning it in apple cider vinegar, as the internet advocates for the No Scrubs set. But I wonder whether that will compromise the experiment. I don't know. I guess I'll wait and see. 

Long winded, then a request (PM)

Oh man! I wish so bad I had the time to bake scones today. I mean technically I guess I have the time but if Newbie goes to sleep and gives me some free time I have to clean the house because it's such a goddamn mess right now it's driving me mental!!!!

Great story, right, 'mother must clean house due to messiness'. I'm sorry guys. I'm really sorry. 

Mate, write a review of that apartment!  I know exactly how this goes, man. Something really annoying happens, you think "eff these guys". You think about writing the review, you don't. You regret it for longer than you should because you really wanted to eat some goddamn scones. I've been there a million times. Write that damn review! 

Also you could probably buy an oven tray for cheap. Maybe from an op shop. Or use a few layers of silver foil as a tray. Plates are usually oven-safe. 

Long winded, then a request (AM)

Since my tour of this United Kingdom (and Ireland) began, I've read a lot of reviews on Trip Advisor.  It's not something I normally do, because online user reviews are so darn subjective and the people who write them are so darn annoying and nitpicky. You know, giving a bad review because the towels were scratchy, and the window wouldn't open more than 10 centimetres at 9:30 on a Wednesday morning. These people are annoying and are not the people I want to take advice from, and I certainly can't ever imagine being one. Good god, no. But where Trip Advisor reviews are useful is when an otherwise moderate, rational person has written a review because a place is truly shit and he/she just wants to warn his or her fellow consumers. These are very very useful reviews.  It's how I found out that one of the places that I was going to be staying for a month was actually student accommodation, opposite a remand centre, and being sublet by someone who despite their professional looking website, didn't have the authority to sublet it. So thank you Ken from Cornwall, that review was very useful. 

The place I'm staying in now got quite a few average reviews, but on grounds that made the reviewers seem more annoying than the place. The towels aren't replaced frequently enough. The pillowcases were a bit thin. The pillows themselves a bit saggy. Annoying, right? Not the kind of thing that would stop you staying there, right? I carried on regardless. And I'm glad I did, because the pillowcases are actually fine and the pillows are fine. 

And yet, I find myself on the brink of writing a Trip Advisor review. And here's why. Though this place is advertised as having an oven, it doesn't have an oven tray or any piece of oven safe equipment that one can use in the oven. Not cool! And when I emailed them to ask if they could supply something, they said no. No! The cheek of them! They said they just provide basic kitchen equipment. "So sorry!" they said.

"You will be sorry!" I wanted to say. And may still stay. But probably not. But they don't know that!

Anyway, I really want to bake some scones to have with jam and cream because THIS IS ENGLAND but apparently I can't. Hey Mate, I don't suppose you have the time to whip up a batch today that you could post about this afternoon and I can live vicariously? That would rule. 

Haiku Thursday (PM)

OMG YOU GUYS!

I FORGOT TO MISS SOFT CRAB

THIS THURSDAY ARVO

Memory triggered

When I saw someone that looked

Like Damon Albarn

I'm sorry Crab Friends.

And I think Lance Armstrong

Should be sorry too. 

Haiku Thursday (AM)

Wednesday night reflections

Oooh. Ah. Eeee. Netball. 

Demanding use of latent

Muscles that now ache

Oh geez Lance Armstrong

You seem like a fucking jerk

That is all on that 

At the days end: bed

Every night, delight: bed

How I love thee: bed