Matzo Adventures

Since starting my new job, my working hours have become slightly more conventional, although life is as hectic as always.  Anyhow, as a result Housemate Em and I actually get to see each other occassionally.  A couple of nights ago we did a midnight shop to kill my icecream craving, which I’m pretty sure Em offered to do to get me to shut up about how I never get to buy icecream (bc of the melt factor that occurs when one exclusively grocery shops public transport style).  I also live in an area that is highly populated with Jews.  Naturally the surrounding supermarkets are currently filled to the brim with Matzo related products in preparation for Passover.  Long story short, I was standing at the checkout when I thought, “hmmm…. King David Matzos for the bargain price of $2.49, how can I resist?”, and added them to my haul.  I mean who knows, I may be overcome with the overwhelming need to make Matzo ball soup, or matzo-brei- I need to have a contigency plan for such a situation people.   

Anyhow, a couple behind me, suddenly stop their loud conversation to start whispering: “Look, she’s got Matzos” etc.  and begin to dissect the rest of my groceries.  I was well pissed off, but thought how embarrassing it would be to turn around confront them if I was wrong about being the topic of their conversation and tried to ignore them… until the dude taps me on the shoulder and decides he wants to be a smart arse and ask (pointing to a box of matzos) “are these Kosher?”.  I am clearly not Jewish.  He and his girlfriend/wife on the other hand clearly were.  I just looked at them, looked at the box marked “KOSHER” and could almost have been mistaken as being polite as I pointed out that it said “Kosher” on the box and turned around, while he rambled on about how of course they were Kosher, they were blessed by a rabbi and everything etc.  

I might of thought it was funny if it just weren’t so fucking rude.  So they thought it was incongruous and amusing that I had matzos, fine- but 1) they could’ve waited until I was out of earshot, and 2) they didn’t have to do that ridiculous, “urgh, I’m so duumb, I need to aassk you if thiiis is this Kosher?” bullshit. 

Em, who was a few people behind me in the line and thus was oblivious, later declared that she should have come storming up and told them that she was my Jewish lover and that I was lovingly respecting her religious beliefs.  I should mention however that while my lovely Jewish Housemate, nee LOVER was holding a basket full of matzo meal packets, she was also in the process of buying pork.  To go with the vegemite Matzos and the beer to wash it down, I suppose.  That part actually was kind of amusing- watching Em place bag after bag of Matzo meal on the counter… followed by pork.  She just looked at me and started laughing.  Also amusing is that out of the two of us, I’m the one who currently has Kosher salt and chocolate in the pantry, while Em was the one diverted by a gigantic packet of bacon at the supermarket (bulk buy savings and all that)- which only goes to show that one cannot judge by one’s food in this day and age.  I love you Emz.           

Wallum Sum

Ever since I’ve moved in to Em’s apartment, she has been referring to me as some kind of rice paper roll making ninja, as if I alone hold the power to make them.  They are in fact, piss easy to make, super healthy and stress free when feeding other people because they do all the work.  On Friday I finally got around to feeding them to Em as I have been promising for months, the way I’ve grown up doing them at home.  Finely cut up a shit load of vegetables- preferably raw and crunchy- you must have at the very least fresh bean shoots, some avocado and plenty of spring onion sliced length ways and marinated in fish sauce and a tiny bit of chilli powder.  Cook some meat if you’re not a vegetarian- preferably pork. Put a bowl of hot water on the table to prepare the rice paper one at a time, to order.  Make some sauce- fish sauce, lemon or lime juice, a bit of sweet chilli sauce and if you have it- a smidge of tinned pineapple juice.  Slap it on the table.  Everyone uses clean hands and chopsticks to create their own roll and voila.  Super easy lunch- crunchy, fresh and satisfying.  So good ended up eating it again this arvo and invited my bro around who almost singlehandedly ate everything on the table.  Also, before you get started everything looks so pretty it actually looks like it took effort.  May take a photo next time so people can appreciate.     

‘Wallum Sum’ translated directly means ‘Vietnamese wrap’, so while it can’t be strictly classifed as Korean, is pretty indicative of how easy Korean food is to prepare sometimes.  Korean ’sum’- wrap is pretty much the same thing but with cooked cabbage leaves, lettuce or sesame leaves with different ingredients and sauces.  Fucking easy and always good. 

Predictable

It started last Thursday just before Coco Rosie, when Sohi called to ask where we should go for dinner.  This it turns out is a rather stupid question when it comes to Sohi and I, cos when we’re in the city we do one of two things:  go eat vegetarian fish at Ten Ren or share fried vegetarian dumplings and vegetarain mapo tofu (not too spicy) at Shanghai noodle house (not to be confused with Shanghai Dumpling House- Camy something or whatever).  If we’re being really exciting we get noodles instead of rice with our tofu.  Or as was the case on Thursday night- noodle house followed by Ten Ren where we got our usual order of bubble tea (incidentally, their tea is much better than most places cos if you order the right thing it isn’t disgusting sweet with the gross artifical sweetner).   

Even the process of eating follows a predictable pattern- Sohi goes and gets tea, bowls and cutlery, then she dips a napkin in the tea to clean our spoons, doles out rice and tofu and practically slaps my hand if I even attempt to refill our cups.  And so on.  Stupidly though, we still go through the pretences of thinking about our choices even though we are so fantastically predictable. 

Incidentally Coco Rosie was rather disappointing.  Perhaps it was where we were standing- which was on the left towards the back where they have that second mini stage (we were at the corner).  Being in that area meant that we could hear the ac running, plus lights etc. which jolt you out of the experience.  Even so… yawn.  At times I just wanted to sleep. 

Friday night: I worked Friday night, but still managed to get home at the relatively early time of 12:30am.  I am at this stage pretty tired, but rather than sleeping, proceed to spend the next four hours doing nothing.  At one stage I sat with the tv on the av channel, but with no actual dvd in the dvd player- so that I was in essence sitting there staring at a blank tv screen.  Such was my exhaustion.  Eventually I managed to make myself get up to brush my teeth, but end up putting on abfab instead.  The whole time I am thinking “I am so exhausted, but I don’t think I can manage to get up, turn the tv off and crawl into bed.  Instead I’ll just lie here in a bizzare half awake state like a vegetable.  That’s much better.” 

Saturday morning:  James calls me at 10am, and having gone to bed only five hours earlier I internally swear at him, but out loud try to sound as if I’ve been up for ages.  Mainly because the first thing he said to me was in a very pejorative tone of voice- “are you in still bed?”  Well, what if I was James, what if I was?, you equally as lazy fuck.  Anyhow, he does the usual thing our family does- which is ask several questions without giving away why we want to know.  For instance James wanted to know if I was 1) free 2) had money 3) willing to go eat yum cha.  So he starts the conversation with, ”So, oi what are you doing today?”  Instead of “Hey, I wanna go to yum cha, you free?”  The latter question is very efficient, and yet we insist on doing it the hard way- so the conversation proceeded thusly, with neither of us wanting to give way:

Ja: So, oi, what are you doing today?
me: I dunno, stuff. Why?
Ja: Just tell me, what you doing?
me: I don’t know.  Why do you want to know?
Ja: Just tell me!
me: Just tell me why you want to know! Pause.  Fine. ummm- I’ll probably do some grocery shopping, clean the bathroom, etc. then I’m going out later.  Why?
Ja: D’you have money?
me: Yeah, why?

Ten minutes later we finally get around to the subject of yum cha.  I don’t know why we do this, but we do.  And we’re exactly the same irrespective of whether we’re the questioner or questionee.  We refuse to the let the other person know anything unless we have information first.  It’s a little strange. 

Saturday Night:  I spend the entire night wishing I didn’t have to go out, knowing all the wishing was useless and a waste of time.  So I put off making dinner, eating dinner, cleaning up after dinner etc.  until it’s too late and Bel has come to pick me up leaving me with about two minutes to get ready.  This is another thing that I do that is rather predictable.  Every time I have some social gathering, all I can think is how desperately I want to spend the night on the couch.  I should clarify that I have not had a proper night in from start to finish in AGES.  I’m often working in the evening- so of course I have to schedule everything on my night’s off… which means I rarely have the chance to come home at 5, make myself dinner, potter around the house, read a book.  Whatever.  It just doesn’t happen.  The last couple of night’s in I had were Sunday nights- which is usually when Em has a couple of friends over for dinner and So you think you can dance.  Which is no problem because they are lovely, but it’s different from having an ordinary night in. 

Anyhow, we eventually get there and B parks the car and we start walking to the place when she links her arm through mine.  I give her a sort of dirty look, and say haughtily ”Did I say you could do that?”, and B in response cannot stop laughing.  ”Oh Jennifer”, she says “I always know when you’re going to say that.  You didn’t even make much of an effort that time”- she copies me in deliberately slow, stilted cadence “did I say. you could. do that?”, and laughs again.  The stupid part is, I can hardly remember saying it that much before.  So I ask “am I that predictable?”, and she says “yes!”  

Also predictably, later in a semi tispy daze I wonder out loud how I could have wanted to spend the night at home.  Although nights out are just as predictable, non?  Spent a good lot of time taking pics with other people’s cameras, then spending even more time looking over them and giggling.  Found ourselves in even more of a hyper-photo state after ?Scottie started the “quick, show me… batman killed your parents/the world has been eradicated of cats”etc. series. 

When I eventually do get home, in a wonderful cloud of happiness I eat a couple of left over tim tams and dreamily watch Sixteen Candles, wondering why John Hughes stopped directing movies.  How does one go from Uncle Buck to writing Maid in Manhattan?????

Sunday morning: I call James to complain about how much money I’ve spent over the weekend, and we do our usual little phone dance.  ”What are you doing today?”  “Why do you wanna know?” etc.  He comes over for lunch, and predictably he ends up on the couch- surrounded by my pillows, alternatively napping and waking up to watch the soccer.  I am predictably, cleaning the kitchen. 

Sunday afternoon:  James finds it in himself to get off the couch and go to his place, when Bel arrives in a sweaty mess wanting to use the shower.  It is Sunday night, Em is away from home, and what am I doing?  I am going out. 

Money, games and romanticism

I’m loath to admit this, but I don’t totally, completely hate the jobs I’ve had in the past, which by and large have been customer service based. I actually, *cough* don’t mind serving other people, and I get a little bit happy when I’ve done a decent job. As much as I complain and complain and complain, and constantly utter the phrase “my god, I hate people”, if I’m completely honest, other people make me soft hearted- I want to please. I’m a poor excuse for a misanthropist. It’s sickening.

Until tonight, I was seriously contemplating maintaining three menial jobs this year (all geared towards paying for a very extended stay in NY at the end of the year)- my current waitressing gig at The Restaurant, so named to protect the innocent, a moula making call centre job, and another one I stumbled across that sounds really interesting, but is only two days a week and not enough money to entice me give up one of the other gigs. Then, tonight after dealing with a self satisfied prick who made me want to stab his likely non-existent genitals repeatedly, I realised there is only so much sunniness one person can maintain- a third job is guaranteed to make me homicidal. Which is sad, because it’s really the only job that sounds at all interesting to me and currently fits my situation. But money it seems, the bastard, likes to rule supreme.

Otherwise, my life is currently dandy- ish. Part of the reason I haven’t blogged for a while, is because anytime I’d manage to wrangle internet time, and I even got close to checking out mine or other’s people’s blogs, I had to restrain myself from waxing on and on about my gorgeous, beautiful, smart, wonderful nieces. I am so in love with them all, I fear there is no space in my heart for anyone else. Anyhow, this summer, despite my life’s usual shitty complications, has made me go through one of those times when I wish I was filmmaker, so I could reproduce the more golden moments in my life for other people to share as I saw them.

I’ve had a bunch of them lately- all of them mundane and uneventful: driving home from the park with my sisters and my two oldest nieces- all of us singing ‘the wheels on the bus’, and getting to the line “the babies on the bus go wah wah wah wah’ to have my nieces fake cry in time with the song SO loudly, with the afternoon sun streaming into the car. Playing uno and monopoly with my brother one night when we were really bored, ending with me bad naturedly chucking my monopoly money down and refusing to play any longer. Walking and chatting with my brother-in-law along the beach and realising that we’ve now known each other for ten years, and that he’s seen me grow up. Chasing my nieces on the beach, listening to them screaming and giggling, physically feeling my heart expand. Having housemate Em come out of her room at 1:30 in the morning and say, “we’re going grocery shopping”. Having Bel call me and tell me, “I’m taking you grocery shopping”. Having my sister call and tell me, “you have to take me shopping for groceries”.

Having a moment out of time at the Broken Social Scene gig the other night, yellow light pointed in our direction giving everything a golden haze, listening to the amazing noise just before they launched into ’stars and suns’ and thinking, I’m so glad I’m here. Sharing a group hug at the the end of the gig with Bel and Andy, and feeling immensely happy. Having Bel sit on my lap in Andy’s car, and being grateful that the policeman in front us was on a motorcycle and could probably not see us.

Anyhow, all of this, plus a recent conversation with housemate Em over breakfast, made me realise what kind of person causes my heart to skip: people whose cynicism and anger at the world is very real, but really only a result of the fact that at heart they are idealists, romantics- disappointed in the world, but also totally abandoned, beholden to the beautiful, golden moments, able to see beauty more clearly than anyone else.

Things I saw on the way to…

Sohi’s:Lots of lush fruit and vege gardens.  I spied one plot with a gorgeous row of basil that I wanted to take a photo of… except there was a european grandma sitting on the porch, sewing, watching me stare at the basil- so I was too embarrassed to take out the camera.  Three v8s, making way too much noise, windows down, very bad doof doof music playing.  Big hair.A sign stating that the street I was walking was a street of ’sustainability’, whatever that means.A fat cat.A train crossing.A nigerian athlete wearing super tight running pants, stowing his gym bag in a little red car playing loud rnb.Two white lion statues.In short, I have nothing worth reporting.  Or I do, but I’m too lazy.  Take what you will.  Hope anyone who is visiting this blog is having a fine New Year.  Love love, kiss kiss.  

A meme up my alley

While I still have access to the internet- just found this on Em’s livejournal:

Dear ________,

I _____ you. You have a nice _____. You make me ____. You should _______. Someday I will _____. You and me are ______.

We should __________. If I saw you now I’d _______. I would build a _______ just for you. If I could sing you any song it would be _________. If I could, I’d give you ___________.

We could __________ under the stars.

Love,
_______________

(P.S. ______________.)

I have provided an example below- contribute in the comments by copying and pasting (begin with a ‘dear jen’ if it amuses you)

Dear Bel,

I miss you. You have a nice soft, delicious brain. You make me smarter with your delicious brain that I have been progressively sucking out of your head for the last 12 years. You should totally grow more brain. Someday I will finish eating your brain, and by extension you, and I will be really really sad. Seriously I should stop eating your brain. You and me are strangely enough, still best buds, possibly because you have so few brain cells left you can’t tell I’m not a very good friend.

We should snup again in the near future. If I saw you now I’d give you a big kiss on the cheek (a good way to start gnawing at the brain y’know). I would build a brain recepticle just for you. If I could sing you any song it would be weird science. If I could, I’d give you back the bits of your brain I have eaten. I am sorry.

We could still cuddle under the stars.

Love,
Jennifer

(P.S. Now the truth is out, you can blame your lame typing skills on me. Although I would love some malk right now.)

An Auspicious Beginning

Am still essentially recovering from New Years- not all as a result of excess debauchery. A lot of it has to do with the fact that so many things get put on hold, so the time around New Years becomes a bizzare limbo-ic time… The rest has a little to do with excess debauchery. Although, may I state, I managed to drag myself up to meet friends for vegetarian fish at 8pm on January 1, after attempting to crash at noon (unfortunately I only got an hour’s worth of sleep before I got up to clean the balcony in a daze… and then forced myself to sit through half a season of Black Books in an attempt to not fuck up my body clock… even though clearly- I already had. Clear thinking Jen? Oh yeah), which I believe proves my general almost grown up soberness.

The subsequent trip to go check out the Myer Christmas windows, and their strange little human ‘Munjoos’ may prove otherwise, but it was a feat nonetheless. Debauchery or no, I honestly had what turned out to be one of the best new years I’ve ever had thanks as usual to the lovely presence of my little B and, later, S (Bel and Sohi, not um, BS). I then ended the first day of the year with a good long talk to sis, which I really needed. She assured me my new year messages on her machine were not at all “queer”, which again, I say- “sober!”. I take these as a sign that this year is going to be fucking fantastic. To many more snuppings!! *clink*

Note:

In Bella language: Snupping: to greet the sun (a play on the term ’sun up’)

In Sohi language: Munjoo: a Camel

Oh, the things I could tell you about Bella/Sohi language…

The Nice Guy Myth

Just got home from a friend’s birthday drinks- it was a nice, good type of boring night. I was feeling rather tired, but overall they’re not the type of people who require much effort to converse with, which is a blessing you can’t take for granted. A good percentage of us knew each other (in some instances very vaguely) in high school- and I was thinking tonight how lovely it was to see how much we’ve changed- how grown up we are, at the same time that we’re still just as ridiculous and immature and fun as we ever were. For the first time in a while, today I finally felt as if I’m getting freedom, and not just uncertainty about my future, or a feeling of dread that I’m being frogmarched into banality. I felt even better after I read someone else’s awesome email (thanks dude) from a person who has gone through all this crap already, which essentially said- live your life, fuck all the worrying, and the excessive planning for the future that might stop you from doing that, without all the sentimental crap ala ‘dance like nobody’s watching’.

There is something I’d like to complain about though- and that is the nice guy myth. TV shows and movies absolutely LOVE the cliche with the nice guy best friend, hanging around with a beautiful girl who only dates arseholes, until one day… she finally sees the light and they get together. Aw, it’s so sweet and lovely, right? Alternatively we have the nice guy who only wants the beautiful girl who is a total bitch and treats him badly until one day HE sees the light and turns to his supposedly less attractive, but much more lovely in personality, overlooked female best friend. I find this latter version more palatable, because at least in this version the guy stops being such a spineless shit, and moves on after realising what an idiot he’s been.

So Sunday morning B and I were lying in her bed chatting and waiting for the alarm to go off so she could go get ready for work, and an ex came up in the conversation- a true, blue chip nice guy. If he were less of a nice guy, would he have lasted the distance we wondered? Conclusion? No. Because frankly, the more I think about it, the more this “nice guys finish last” adage seems like utter bullshit. See this entry from Jezebel which helped kickstart this thought process.

If you don’t want to click- the gist of the piece is a letter from some douche complaining to a female friend from 15 years ago about how she didn’t know how much of a good thing she had in him. He then claims that she MADE him into the kind of arsehole she was so fond of dating back in the day. Bull, fucking shit. The best bit is when he says “You ignored the nice guy. You used him for emotional intimacy without reciprocating, in kind”.

I’m sorry what?! These guys are so full of it. So because he was a “nice guy”, a good friend who was supposedly “used” for “emotional intimacy”, she OWED him ‘physical intimacy’ in return?! Because offering friendship with someone implies some kind of debt, clearly. Should we all just set up a balance sheet and see who owes who more in the friendship stakes?

It is also an incredibly arrogant thing to claim: ‘I’m such a good person, and you never chose me- you’re the arsehole’. There’s so much non-existent entitlement implied. Too whit- being “nice” does not make up for stuff like lacking a personality, a sense of humour, the ability to be self-derisive, confidence and humility. Being too good of a person to be loved and appreciated is the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard in my life.

Also, nice guy/person or not, if you’re in a relationship romantic or otherwise where the like balance is completely out of whack- i.e. one person is far more adoring than the other, then you’ve got to expect that the results may not be pretty. It’s human nature- no matter how good a person you are, if someone is sticking around giving you lovesick looks and saying they’ll doing anything for you- you’re gonna let them, because it’s easy, and sometimes it seems harmless. From the person who is taking, it doesn’t necessarily occur to them that they “owe” you something. You can’t really be that bitter when you’re asking to be trodden over. Harsh, maybe, but I honestly reckon that in any decent friendship/relationship you’ve got to know how to take as intelligently as you give.

The truth of the matter is, if you’re truly a “nice guy” you don’t need these kind of excuses. The guys I know are in the main, neither “nice guys” or “bad guys”, merely “guys”. However, the truly nice guys that I’ve met, regardless of their romantic experiences, good or bad, are STILL nice guys, not closet misogynists looking for an excuse to cover up their own patheticness.

Honestly, I think the adage should be changed to “nice guys who are boring and fawn excessively, and believe this entitles them to get laid, finish last”.

Note: I don’t mean to imply B’s ex is no longer a nice guy- apparently he is still as lovely a person as ever.

In honour of this post I am putting up a clip of Some Kind of Wonderful (thereby also continuing my 80s movies project) which is basically nice-guy has a crush on the pretty popular girl, until he realises he really likes his tomboy best friend. This version of the nice guy story line is pretty awesome because

1) supposedly Some Kind of Wonderful is meant to be an anathema to Pretty in Pink, in which Molly Ringwald ends up with the annoying, spineless Andrew McCarthy, when she was originally written to end up with Ducky (that dude from Three and Half Men who is not the kid, or Charlie Sheen). Apparently Ringwald made and fuss, and Hughes was forced to change the ending- and so he decided to swap genders and do the whole thing again sans Ringwald.

2) This is one of the few movies that Eric Stoltz is actually kind of hot (ok, almost hot). Hey- did you guys know that Stoltz was cast as Marty in Back to the Future because Michael J. Fox’s schedule couldn’t allow him to take the role initially… except that after a couple of weeks, the producers were like “this is not going to work out” and fired him? Ouch, that would have hurt. A lot.

3) Molly Ringwald isn’t in it with a shitty dress made out of two perfectly lovely dresses that she decided to cut up for no fucking good reason. That fugly dress still makes me angry.

4) Because Mary Stuart Masterson is so darn cute.

5) Because Stoltz smartens up quick enough not to be a fawning idiot the entire time.

6) Because Lea Thompson’s character is neither total bitch, or sweet angel.

Hoarse

Fuck me. I woke up this morning and tried to speak, but couldn’t. I haven’t lost my voice per se, but it’s definitely on the husky side, and I can’t speak loudly. My neck is also a little sore, and my hair is gritty with dirt. In a sentence: Daft Punk last night.

I’m not even going to bother explaining- it was just so much fun. Although, my neck and voice, or lack thereof tell me perhaps I was a tad on the exuberant side. Not as exuberant as a certain person I could name though. Ended up converging with a few groups of people, one of which is an ex-workmate. Which is what this post is really about.

This person, let’s call him David, has really never been of interest to me until recently. When I used to work with him, we would cross paths in the break room, and that was about the extent of our interaction. More recently, a friend of mine became pretty good friends with him, and went through a rather, shall we say, infatuated stage with him, which is about the time I started to wonder what it was about him that other females were so attracted to. When I finally met up with him again, one of the first things he said to me after we did the “how are you, what are you up to” etc. was how it was hard for him finding a committed relationship. He said it with utter sincerity, not whiny, not self-indulgent, but with confidence, as if it were their fault they had not committed to him- he who was so willing to open his heart. It was all I could do to not burst out laughing. Although we’d had virtually no contact in the past, and to date, we still don’t/haven’t- if there is one thing I know about him, is that the boy’s a player. After that, I finally got it- he’s a charmer. Quite seriously he is the most charming guy I’ve ever met, in the sense that it’s such an easy charm, an all encompassing charm- disarming and friendly, confident, and non-threatening.

Truly, it’s hard to dislike him, because yes, he is so goddamn charming- but at the same time, I can’t say that I like him particularly. I’m a bit fascinated by what he is, but in terms of his personality, I don’t find him of interest. Which brings me to last night: among the myriad of a bit strange things that occurred, high on the list was the sudden stillness of people around me, who moments before were dancing like maniacs. I turned around trying to work out what was going on- from what I could gather (although I could be wrong, it was dark, and well, rather loud out there) David as a response to some perceived slight had just pissed in a cup and then tossed the contents at ’slighter’. Everyone in our group/s were a bit shocked at what had just happened, some giggled a bit, and then they continued dancing, with a bit of a “well, that’s David for you” type reaction. And that, my friends is David. From what I could tell, he proceeded to spend the rest of the night being by turns extremely friendly to us, and weirdly over aggressive to the strangers around us- whether it was warranted or not I’m not exactly sure- but then he was shall we say, off his head, but nonetheless well loved by everyone. Clearly, it pays to be charming.

God, now that I think about it, he reminds me loosely (very loosely) of my brother… Also, I can’t decide if I want to go out tonight or just have a quiet night in. Someone tell me what to do! I especially can’t decide, because I have this feeling that I’ve made two vague sets of plans, which would be fine, except I can’t remember what the second set is, thus unable to cancel vaguely. Helping me remember would help also. Cheers

Countdown

God, I am so contrary. As soon as I declare that I won’t do something, I instantly want to do it. Cue the desire to blog. I am also bored. Am sitting around at the moment waiting for my parents to come home for Jehsah, having laid the table out, brought out the booze, incense and candles, I have nothing left to do. I know my dad is going to laugh at my table laying efforts, because I always do it wrong. I put out all the food and arrange it to look pretty, but apparently there are ‘rules’ for what goes where, and I never remember them.

I also just want to state here and now, if I haven’t stated it before- my family is nuts. Truly freaking nuts. Even the more normal members of our family have a couple of sanity issues, which is mostly remarkable because from the outside, we would seem to be perfectly functional human beings, if a tad boisterous when we’re placed all together in a room. Which is why I’m approaching the next couple of months with caution:

All members of the family are undertaking a countdown- in exactly six weeks everybody will be in Australia. Both my sisters, their husbands, their daughters, and my brother will be back in the country for Chinese New Year, and I’ll be moving back home while they’re here. This is pretty darn exciting for us, as hanging out for the holidays in Melbourne has always been so much fun. I can’t tell you how much we look forward to this every year. It is even more exciting, because even though individually we’ve gone to visit each other, we haven’t ALL been together for a couple of years now, mainly due to the all the popping out of babies.

This is new territory however. We have never had four kids running around (all under the age of four mind you) at the same time. There are the usual problems involved- diapers, strollers, car seats (argh- two in each car- and we’ll definitely need to rent a car also), night time baths, night time bedding rituals, feeding schedules, eating preferences, volatile baby temperments, potty issues (there are ALWAYS potty issues, even the trained ones)- these are all manageable to a degree. But four all at once? If one kid wakes up crying in the middle of the night (not an unusual occurence) then you have potentially three others to deal with. Same goes for putting them to bed, having one of them wake up early in the morning- add to that the potential for them getting jealous of the others, having to share a limited amount of toys etc. and it’s a rather precarious situation. I’m telling you these are “good” kids, but the best of kids, are just that- kids. No matter how angelic they and good tempered they are- throw in the fact they’re in a new hectic environment with other children, and it’s a catalyst for disaster, especially in the heat.

And not only with the kids- have I mentioned that my family is crazy? This is the breeding ground for really bringing out the full nature of their nuttiness. I’m telling you. Fireworks are coming. Case in point, I was talking to one of my sister’s recently and she said:

“So Jenny, you do realise that Sis S and I going to have a huge blowup, it’s going to get really awkward, you’re going to be stuck in the middle, and then you’re going to sit there and judge us for the rest of trip. I’m just telling you, be prepared.”

To which I could only reply, “what makes you think I don’t judge you now?” If there is one thing I can say for my family, it’s that you can’t say that they’re not self aware…

Even so, I SO excited, I am literally counting the sleeps. Damn them, even with the crazy I love them to bits (it helps that they’re accompanied by the cutest children EVER).