mottled pain

I HATE cramps….. it’s like performing seppuku every month. And unlike the actual ritual with the knife, we have to live with it. 2 naprogesics and a heat pack only seems to dull that searing pain just a tincy bit…. Pain~~~~

snap snap

I just snapped up a copy of Alicia Keys’ 4th album (set to be released 15th Dec 2009 in the USA) – The Element of Freedom  Deluxe edition at JB Hi Fi today. So very happy =D

Mysore

It’s been a pretty hectic weekend of dining out. I hope my cholestrol level isn’t going to go through the roof…
Friday night was spent having a nice fat steak at Ribs and Rumps in Macquarie (North Ryde), I had caesar salad as a side dish/entree with a 300g wagyu rib eye steak as the main, and threw down two cocktails called something along the lines of “lemon heaven”.
Usually I order my steaks rare, but the waiter’s concern for my tastebuds  ”warned” me of the “extra flavour” that the marble score of 4 could give me…. so I ordered medium rare. After tasting it, I guess I should’ve just stuck to my guns, had my food 80% uncooked and watched my taste buds go “wow!”
Having grown up in a family that likes to eat their food well-done, I don’t know where I picked up the fondness of having my steaks a bit on the undercooked side. Could it be the upbringing of eating a lot of sashimi..? Still unsure.

Work on Saturday at the newsagent was a lovely 8 and a bit hour shift of pure chaos.  The newsagent work party took place the night before, and although I did not attend this party,  the previous experiences I’ve had with the newsagent Xmas parties meant that I knew what to expect on Saturday morning…. a lot of hungover workmates. Thankfully, although we closed our doors 15 minutes later than usual, the day went by without too many complaints and health-threatening situations. Trick came to pick me up from work and we drove off to the city to meet up with Tory and co. for a reunion dinner at the Grecian restaraunt “Athenian”. I was being quite healthy and ordered a main of “smoked salmon ala Greko”.  Possibly the healthiest out of the lot on our table.
I did get somewhat annoyed that Lida ordered the “Athenian special”, a large dish of food, eats about one-eighth of the plate before pushing it away from her, claiming that the one piece of bread and haloumi cheese “screwed her over” for the meal. It was like an excuse for her stop using her mouth to eat, and start using it to spout out more hot air over her “horrid” life. The constant trademark whinging covered topics about her heavily injured thigh muscles from a game of oz-tag, something about having a love-hate relationship with her PhD  and it somehow ended up between yoga and ghost encounters at her old house. One good thing that came out of all that whinging was that I didn’t have to do any of the conversational hoo-har, afterall, I had spent the last 9 hours prior to the dinner talking to parents, grandparents and various members of clubs and corporations doing their Christmas shopping. She was also the first person to part ways with the reunion dinner, and needless to say, Trick and I also cut the reunion short and left the party one block later.

Sunday was swimming day with Trick in attempt to get ourselves into a healthier lifestyle. I would’ve like to spend another half hour in the pool, but of course, there were time constraints as to how long Prince Fluffy* could hang around with me before he had to head off to play social sunday soccer. We rocked up to the Indian Restaraunt “ Malabar“ at 7.30pm to have dinner with Saturday Crew. We were either banished or awarded the upstairs tables (all on our own) in the restaraunt, while the rest of the public were downstairs. The turn out was good- Pamela, Sunna, Jo (Sunna’s bf), Sarah, Sun, Trick and I made it. Alana and Ric had the intention of turning up, but due to the stomach flu, Lana was making special curry of her own at home. All of us tried each other’s dishes at some point in time, and the outcome to the meal was apparently quite satisfying compared to Friday night’s Newsagent dinner (which was also held close by the Malabar).

I’m going out for dinner AGAIN tonight, this time won’t be so exciting. It’ll just be a dinner with the family before New Years… the worst part of it is that it’ll be out at Parramatta…. -_-||

*refer to Gabriel Iglesias’ six levels of fatness

faux pas

One evening, I’m getting dressed.. i’m in my cutest little Nude Lucy waxed skinny jeans and some nice top. All I needed was a jacket which wouldn’t be used much for the rest of the night.

FYI, some girls have a lot of jeans, others have a lot of shoes. I have, a lot of jackets.

I asked Trick, “how do i look atm?”
trick, “really good.”
me, “I need a jacket, what do you reckon?”
Trick looks at me, looks at my collection of jackets, looks at me again and goes “the Ed Hardy waxed jacket.”

……………………………………..*heart stops beating

+1 point for remembering that the jacket is nice
-10 points for not correctly remembering that the jacket is actually Christian Audigier, not Ed hardy… though I think he was referring to the fact that I purchased the gorgeous jacket at the Ed Hardy store

When my heart remembered that it was still alive, I asked “why that jacket?”

“coz they match!”
-100000000000 points for putting waxed jeans and waxed jacket together.

There are men who are so talented in fashion, that’s why they’re designers and stylists. Then there are the rest.

For those counting at home, the score is currently at -100,000,000,009 points.

girly pains

Recently I found out that I sport a big fat ovarian cyst 5cm diameter on my right ovary. I am so fat that even my cyst reflects my size… *sigh. And for the last few days there’s been pain in my right abdominal area, whether it’s me being sore from poledancing or whether it’s the ovarian cyst ready to rupture, I don’t know. Sadly… I DO want to know what’s going on. I want that cyst to be gone because it’ll just make life so much easier for me to figure out what’s wrong with me (I think).

Anyway, the definition of ovarian cyst- any collection of fluid, surrounded by a thin wall within your ovary that is bigger than 2cm in diameter.

The doctors are unsure as to exactly what kind of cyst it is, the only thing that we’re sure of at the moment is that it’s not cancerous.
So being me, I went home and had a google up as to what it could potentially be. … and the contestants for this are the following:

1. Graafian follicle cyst

2.  Corpus luteum cyst

3. Hemorrhagic cyst

Either way, all of them will hurt some point in a girl’s menstrual process… and that just made life of a girl a whole lot better *grumble. The symptoms that were listed were also positive to what I’ve been experiencing for the last few days as well, I really just hope my body knows what it’s doing, and is doing its best to get rid of this crap.
I am sooo sick of feeling like crap everytime I go to work. I don’t smoke, drink or even gorge myself on heavy junk foods, so why do I get to be on the butt end of these st00pid problems!?

Crossing

Constantly putting your life in danger by putting yourself out on the road. This is the Australian dream.

Pedestrians in Sydney especially love to cross the road whenever the hell they feel like it, be it a green traffic light indicating for the CARS to move or when there is complete bumper to bumper traffic on a busy street.
Whenever I see these people crossing a busy road without a care in the world, it’s like they’re beating their chests and screaming out the motto, “I’ll deal with it after it hits me”. 
In my travels as a passenger in a car, I’ve observed all sorts of situations which  pedestrians like to get themselves into.
Let me take you to Exhibit A, pedestrians stroll into oncoming cars while talking on their mobiles, or blissfully plugged into their own soundtrack of life. Some of the time, the ending piece of their soundtrack are the sound of brakes screaming, horns blaring followed by the sound of sirens a little later.

Exhibit B: The daredevil pedestrians who can’t be arsed to find the pedestrian crossing 4 metres down the road, they cross half the road and stand on that double white line that “symbolises” a division in the road for oncoming and outgoing traffic, they stand there like it’s the safest place on the road,  anybody behind the wheel would know that this double line means absolutely nothing when it comes to getting from destination A to B in the least amount of time.

Exhibit C:  Homicidal pedestrians, these homicidal maniacs are dubbed as “parents” 98% of the time. They push their strollers (occupants included) ONTO the busy road as they wait for a traffic light to change, or for a relatively “safe” gap in traffic.

It’s a complete disregard or ignorance for safety for themselves or for the driver behind the wheel. Back in the day, you’d find newspaper articles continuously bitching about the number of accidents caused by the drivers speeding or how drivers are unaware of what’s going on around them. It was and still is, always the driver’s problem.
There is no denying that Sydney drivers suffer from all this road rage, and there is also no denying that there seems to be an over-abundance in crappy drivers on the road. However, I do wonder if the vast majority of people realise that the pedestrian accidents we hear on the radio are caused by the same crappy rule-breaking drivers, who have now gone down the career path to terrorising the roads by becoming a pedestrian for the hour.

Do you know what the worst thing is?

Drivers who actually encourage pedestrians to this kind of reckless behaviour on the streets. There are drivers who stop their cars in the middle of a busy road, when the traffic light CLEARLY indicates for motor traffic to MOVE in a certain direction… that one car STOPS, backs up the entire road behind him/her and indicates for the pedestrians to walk across the road. Obviously pedestrians that have been giving this form of treatment begin to get spoilt by this kind of pampering, believe that they are above the law, and in conclusion, will jaywalk like there is no tomorrow. No doubt that when this person is a pedestrian, they’ll expect the same courtesy to be given to them when s/he decides to cross illegally. So obvious that neither of these people know Part 14, Division 1 Rule 231 of the New South Wales Government legistlation.

“231   Crossing a road at pedestrian lights

(1)  A pedestrian approaching or at an intersection, or another place on a road, with pedestrian lights and traffic lights must comply with this rule.Maximum penalty: 20 penalty units. (2)  If the pedestrian lights show a red pedestrian light and the pedestrian has not already started crossing the intersection or road, the pedestrian must not start to cross until the pedestrian lights change to green.

Note 1. Green pedestrian light and red pedestrian light are defined in the Dictionary.

Note 2. A traffic control device (including pedestrian lights) generally only applies to a person if the device faces the person—see Part 20, Division 3, especially rule 340.

(3)  If, while the pedestrian is crossing the road, the pedestrian lights change to flashing red or red, the pedestrian must not stay on the road for longer than necessary to cross safely to the nearer (in the direction of travel of the pedestrian) of the following:

(a)  a dividing strip, safety zone, or traffic island, forming part of the area set aside or used by pedestrians to cross the road at the intersection or place (the safety area),

(b)  the nearest side of the road.

Note. Dividing strip and traffic island are defined in the Dictionary, and safety zone is defined in rule 162.

(4)  If, under subrule (3), the pedestrian crosses to the safety area, the pedestrian must remain in the safety area until the pedestrian lights change to green.

(5)  However, if the pedestrian cannot operate the pedestrian lights from the safety area, the pedestrian may cross to the far side of the road when:

(a)  the traffic lights change to green or flashing yellow, or there is no red traffic light showing, and

(b)  it is safe to do so.”

These are people who don’t actually know the laws, or if they did, they don’t particularly care if it doesn’t involve them getting hurt, it’s such stereotypical trashy behaviour.

Drivers are pedestrians as well, they are only identified as drivers by a piece of plastic card hidden in a pocket of their wallet, vaguely indicating that they have the skillset to handle a motorised vehicle. It’s true that it’s not always the pedestrian’s fault, and it’s also true that it’s not always the driver’s fault. The only thing one can say is that the people who are at fault are those who encourage other drivers/pedestrians to ignore the road rules, and take their safety for granted.

You see these websites? Go to them, learn it and use it*. http://www.legislation.nsw.gov.au/viewtop/inforce/subordleg+179+2008+fn+0+N

http://www.rta.nsw.gov.au/rulesregulations/roadrules/index.html

*NSW only, go find your own State, county or Country road rules if you’re not living where  I am =D

iceberg

Although it’s meant to be a nice summer, the jolly folk here at AQIS believe that we should all have a wintery Xmas inside the building.

The thermometer says it’s 21 degrees Celsius in the laboratory at the moment…. so why have I ripped open a heat pack ? And why does it feel like it’s a winter day in here?!?! Cold~~~

Save for one of those days when the air conditioning in the building goes down for the hour, the laboratory which I work in is almost always very very cold. The humidity is also a concern, it gets so humid in here that the paper goes soft!

jars

Like those who have a Swear jar, Trick needs a “totally jar”. Everytime he says “totally” or… “like totally”, he’ll need to chuck coins into it.
Or I just have to mention it each time I hear him say “totally” out of context.

He’s taken note that my teenage sister speaks how he speaks… or vice versa, and he’s extremely embarrassed by it.

parfum

I love the website “Now Smell This”, it’s a blog about perfume.

DKNY- Be Delicious selection.. so yummy

The blog/website  answers a lot of questions for those (like me) who are scent-challenged on perfumes and colognes you find in stores,  and gives you the lowdown on a lot of different fragrances that are out on the sale shelves.

I wish I had a nose that can pick out smells like that….It’s most definitely a talent.

character profile

He hates being scrubbed in the bath, but ironically, likes to be blown about the face with a hairdryer set on medium heat (low breeze) as he watches his favourite show, Sex and the City.
He lives for boobs, preferrably lovely lady lumps but a set of nice manly peck of sorts will suffice in times of need, man boobs are a definite no-no, as are withering leather tits. He also doesn’t do chest hair, he tells me that it’s such a turn off when you feel like you’ve run your hands through an elephant… only to find that it belongs to a greasy hairy man.
 The scent of those pectorials are most important to him, afterall who wants to get a face full of sweaty body odour when you dive face first into them?
His describes his favourite scent as a soft cologne, something both chicks and hunks can pull off at the same time and lately he’s been eyeing that new D&G fragrance Le Bateleur 1…. sure the reviews haven’t been all that great about this scent, but it’s still one of the betters scents that’s been released lately.

The mutually beneficial relationship he has with his partners occurs in the strangest fashion. How it works is this: he keeps their necks warm with his fur, and draws in all the chicks who have a love for cute furry things. 
In return, he catches a free ride by hanging off his partner’s shoulder, gets to see the world and also has his little paws on the boob he’s attached himself to. When too cold, he can dive under the shirt of his partner and breathe in the nice fragrance of the cologne s/he is wearing. By doing this, he will less likely absorb the horrid smells floating about in the city.

Through evolution of the designers that created him, he has been given  a long cute floppy tail and a pair of adorable front paws which are used to clamp onto your nose when he wants your attention. When he’s annoyed at you, he’ll flick his long tail in your direction whilst making the cutest “nyo~!” noises…Or he proceeds to toss and makes an implied (but strangely disconcerting) “money shot” sound when he sees fit.
 His tail is also useful in strangling an opponent, hiding his face from the cold as well as to create different ethnical disguises.  He can be Middle-eastern by wrapping his tail over his head like a turban, or be a Buckingham palace guard by rolling his tail up into a standing position, he’s also recently discovered that by folding his tail horizontally over his ears, he can also be the stereotypical Russian. Either way, his disguise is infallible… and if it ever does fail, he’ll just pout by sitting on top of his tail and you won’t be able to do anything but go “awwww~~~~”.

His height is long, his size is big, and he is black. He is a self-acclaimed Lubu God, and he is, of course, Elle-BeeBee~~!!! <3