Again? Really?

This posting everyday business is getting tedious. Mainly due to the lack of content in my brain.

I feel vapid.

Simon

I check that my phone is in my bag, my location on the office phone system is set to 'gone for the day' and that my pass has been removed from my clothing and tucked into side pocket of over-sized handbag. I walk to the middle of the office before completing several wild but calculated gestures with my arms signaling the end of my work day. I then repeat "bye" to everyone who says so to me.

I avoid eye contact with any person in the lift lobby and exit the building with as much haste as my retched body can handle without causing too much attention. I step out into the heat of concrete and taxi exhausts, I cross the road with all the others lucky enough to escape their desk at this hour. My mind is fixed on my destination - my transport home. Then all of a sudden into my path steps a tall lanky, dark haired boy with a quirky look and mischief in his eyes. The kill shot. Irish accent. He asks for 6 seconds.
I tell him that I am walking to the train, I have a train to catch. He won't take too much of my time. I offer for him to walk with me. He does. We banter about time and money. One I was willing to part with - the other I would not. I stop and offer my hand. I tell Simon that it was nice to meet him and then I cross the road.

I sit on the train. I think that Simon was nice.

Secrets

One of my 101 things is to post a secret into postsecret. I have no idea why I thought this would be a good idea. I like the site, although more often than not I leave the site feeling bewildered and/or gutted at some shocking secret. Every now and then a secret will make me smile - but that is a rare occasion for me on this site.

So. I have been racking my brains over the last couple of days about which secret would I bare to the world of postsecret. I can't think of one that I want to write down and acknowledge. It turns out I don't want to share my secrets.

I know there have been some drunken nights I might have said to a person here and there that I have a secret to share and then confess something that makes me seem retarded/self obsessed/excessively insecure etc. But generally, the real secrets, are locked away and I have thrown away the key. Because that is what a secret is. Once you have told a single other being then is ceases to be a secret.

The only problem is - how am I going to cross this off my list?

Homebaker

When I get bored I bake. Sometimes this is good, but mostly it is bad because then I eat everything that I make....not so good.
Today I started out making the chocolate and whiskey bundt cake that some twitterer linked to and I decided I must try out. Verdict: Awesome! Very moist with a big whiskey flavour


Then I thought I would use up the macadamias my twin left behind the other day. So I made a honeyed pear and macadamia tart. It was very tasty but it needs crream. One of my favourites.


And to add some experimental element I took a recipe and changed it to accommodate what I had at home and I made ruby grapefruit and white chocolate tarts. Verdict: Disaster, couldn't get the damn things out of the trays - they all stuck. And the coconut bases were a touch too sweet.

So I would respect myself in the morning I put the dishwasher on and also hand washed what was leftover. Now my green kitchen is looking neat and tidy again...


Taking leftovers to work. I will feed the number crunchers the fruits of my boredom and save myself from the calories.

Lego dudes

There are 3 geeks in my living room playing plastic instruments along to music from 80's metal bands with the lego avatars on the tv. Normally I join in on such things and perhaps I will hit the plastic drums before the night is out....

The Australian Whiskey Spectacular

Gathered in the whiskey and cigar bar called Baranows Lounge are the doyens of Australian Single Malt distilleries, David Baker from Bakery Hill (VIC), Patrick Maguire (TAS), Bill Lark from Lark (TAS) and Cameron Syme from Limeburners (WA), and us, the people that love whiskey and go to such tastings. Amid the dark brown leather couches, scattered palms, the mounted deer head, the wait staff bring out over a hundred glasses of our tastings.

Nights like this are pretty special, you get to taste the whiskey while the founder of the distilleries walk you through their passion - making and drinking whiskey.

One of the best nights of the year!

Take that Nick Cave t-shirt off

I miss the 19yr old Lenore. It struck me the other day how aging and gathering physical content in ones life is very restricting. The responsibility that comes with striving for a comfortable lifestyle shackles one to a workforce, a house and a location. I am starting to feel the weight of this. It is not necessarily a bad thing but I notice it.

When I was 19 and I slowly but surely traded all my belongings at the Cash Convertors in Coolangatta to gain money for coffee and a camera, it did not occur to me to worry about keeping and hoarding my belongings. When it came time to leave that area - I sold or gave away all my furniture and started again in Sydney. And again when I decided to make the move to Melbourne. I packed what I could fit into the Sierra and everything else was sold or left. I felt free and able to make changes in my life that were substantial and fun.

What have I traded for that perceived freedom? I now have a nice place to stay that is full of all the necessary luxuries - ie big tv and media centre for all my entertainment needs, lots of single malts, a spare room for visitors, a beer fridge that is always full, 6 computers etc. I have a job that offers good money and security, a relationship that is just getting better as the years go by. And these are not bad things. Most people strive to have this.

Then why is it that I am dreaming of getting rid of it all (except GB of course) and taking to backpacking around the world for a couple of years? Is it a midlife crisis? Is it because I feel the tick-tocking of my biological clock?

I am restless.