b) having a downloading demon of a teenager here over the holidays
I have been on dial-up speed for the last week.
I hate it.
Remember when you first went online and the thrill you would get when the modem would go brrrrr and make all those cool dialing noises? How long ago was that? Obviously long enough ago so that when I try to log on and watch the page trying to l.....o.....a.....d. I want to pick up the macbook and throw it across the room.
Anyway, I endured the s.........l..........o.........w connection because I had to register for tickets.
I have officially obtained "crazy old lady" status.
News from the US all bemoaning the fact the delivery of mail may be cut to 5 days made me, well, shrug my shoulders,and think - yes, so? Until I remembered how appalled I was when I first moved to Oz and found out mail is only delivered here Mon through Fri. Delivered being the key word here, because if you want to mail something you had to walk around the block and down the street to the post box. Now, this seems normal.
You guys should get used to it in about five years.
Following on from a rough morning spent interviewing potential assistants I joined the rest of the team for lunch at our local coffee shop.
Now, I've eaten at this coffee shop before and the food was...well, it was ok. I am spoiled for choice when it comes to picking places to eat in the city, and the coffee shop, whilst it has coffee from heaven, doesn't fix my bacon and egg sandwiches the way I like them.
Five of us traipsed over for lunch, a table had been reserved, we sat down and started perusing the menu (italian tapas). While we were perusing, the owner came over, grabbed the menus from us and said "I'll pick out the food, you guys just eat".
And eat we did.
Prawns in garlic and olive oil.
Chicken in tomato sauce to die for.
Grilled octopus with olives and chili.
Ravioli in a cream sauce, also to die for.
Twice roasted pork belly served with homemade apple sauce. One bite of this and I had to warn the rest of the gathering away, telling them they wouldn't like it. Luckily for me, two of the people at the table didn't care for the pork belly which made me sad (not really). I got to have double helpings!!! Glad for me.
Air dried beef with buffalo mozzarella, rocket and parmesan.
For dessert, chocolate and hazelnut gelato. Served with a shot of homemade limoncello.
The food was excellent and everyone at the table was impressed with the service, which they put down to the fact that I know the owner. That may (or may not) have something to do with it, but I have to tell you, it was the best damn lunch I've had in a long long time.
With only the rest of today left of my vacation have been feeling a bit, well, pissed off really that I have to go back to work tomorrow
. Oh, well, I have to do something to support my bad habits and I am pretty fond of eating as well. So, I will try to cram in a few fun things today, like giving myself a pedicure and watchingdvd that I borrowed from someone the last time I took a vacation.
Speaking of eating, I had forgotten how much teen age boys eat. Yesterday, within the space of two hours young Podo devoured:
A LARGE bowl of cereal.
Two cold leftover sausages.
Dinner (three kangaroo steaks (yes, we eat roo here and it's v, v yummy) fried potatoes and broccoli.
Two glasses of juice.
A large bowl of ice cream.
When I went to bed, Podo was standing in front of the fridge looking for something to snack on as he was "hungry". Go figure. If only he paid as much attention to the where-a-bouts of his mobile phone (he's lost/broken 5 that I know of) as he does his (apparently always empty) stomach.
When Mr H & I were renovating the kitchen at the old place, we noticed I had the ability to see when things were not level:
me: that cupboard is crooked
Mr H: no it's not
me: yes it is
Mr H: (sighing heavily and then going to measure)
Mr H: dammit
Mr H: this cupboard is out 3 mm
me: (smirking in my head) oh
Now, 3mm is not a lot (.118th of an inch) but I noticed.
So when it came time to install the new floor in the bedroom, my job was to pick pieces of wood that would add up to 3.22 metres (10.5 ft) , because of course the floor came flat packed. So I stood in the yard and eyed the assorted different pieces of wood flooring and picked out pieces that would add up to 3.2. By the end of the day if became apparent that we were not going to finish installing the floor so I was tasked with moving the remaining floor into the house. So I hauled everything inside the house, cursing the entire time because every time I picked up a piece of wood I got a splinter and I was too stubborn to put on a pair of gloves. After I got everything stacked up I told Mr H "we aren't going to have enough to cover the floor".
Mr H: yes we will
me: there isn't enough
Mr H: it will be close, but there's enough.
Guess who had to go out and buy two more lengths of wood, because we were two boards short of finishing the floor?