I Love My iPhone 3G S

On Tuesday, I decided that an iPhone was in order. I had just found out from a housemate that the iPhone was also an iPod. That clinched it for me - if it can carry my music, I'm sold!

My contract with Optus was up for renewal at the end of April and I thought I would try my luck in getting a new phone ahead of the renewal date. I have been with Optus for more than 6 years so I knew they would give me what I wanted.

A quick conversation later, I was talking to Sales about which iPhone I wanted, what colour, what cap plan I would lock myself into and which insurance option I wanted. The sticking point came with international calls which are no longer included in any of their cap plans. There was an alternative, blessedly, and so I took it. I like being able to ring my parents and brothers in Malaysia at any time. I don't mind the added expense as I didn't want to take the risk of missing them at an important time.

On Wednesday (yesterday), the iPhone was delivered as promised and I skipped and hopped at the thrill of it. Along with the attention span of a two-year old, I also have the reactions of one to a new toy.

I spent most of last night playing with it: locating the spot for the SIM card, syncing it to iTunes (after upgrading iTunes on my laptop which took, like, forever), transferring songs from Windows Media Player, more syncing, wondering where all my contacts went, calling my Mum and having a bitch, asking Optus where my contacts went, slotting the SIM card back into the Nokia and copying all contacts to it, downloading a handful of free applications, syncing email, testing the camera, choosing my ringtone, text tone, alarm tone, and finally, changing my wallpaper.

I love it. It held my attention for 3 whole hours. Amazing.

Perception is Reality

It is only the naive who believe that people look for the truth. The reality is people see what they perceive to be the truth and that perception can be as far from the truth as a fanciful tale.

A case in point: a work social outing was supposed to occur this Friday. We were going to go to the Moonlight Cinema on Friday night, watch a movie, and have a wine-and-cheese picnic in the Botanic Gardens. I was looking forward to this. Due to various reasons, numbers dwindled to two: myself and my Director.

I had a feeling he might not like the idea and so I asked him before I made further arrangements. He said, no I don't mind, do you? I said, nope, all the more wine for me!

A couple of days later, I went to check if he wanted me to buy tickets for us both. He hesitated. Then he said, let me think about it. I said I understood his hesitation, perception is reality and Adelaide is small.

Today I had a coffee meeting with him and I asked again to confirm.

He looked down and away, then said, you get my point don't you?

I said, yes, I had thought about it over the weekend. There are things which had been done for me which didn't need to be done and which he had approved, things that if people knew about and if people saw us sitting on a picnic blanket in the Botanic Gardens watching a movie surrounded by bottles of wine, they might be inclined to put two and two together and end up with 10.

And Adelaide is small. People talk.

He said, it would impact more on you. I'm in this position, I would be fine, you have a career that you have been building.

I said yes, I would be worse off.

And so there we are, no Moonlight Cinema for me because the risk of people perceiving that I am doing the dirty with my Director is too high and neither of us wants to deal with the fall-out. Sad, isn't it? But we don't live in isolation and I have a reputation to maintain - there's nothing worse than office gossip, and nothing which travels faster than wildfire.

So where will I be on Friday night? Having dinner with a friend at British India on Gouger Street!

Sweet Poetry

In one of my birthday cards, a friend had written a poem along with the standard birthday messsage. It was very nice and I thought he had copied it from somewhere. I've only just found out that he composed it! How blessed am I to have such a talented friend. It is such a good poem, I have to share it here:

My Birthday Poem by Anthony John Leverenz

If you were the morning
- we could greet the day with joy
If you were the afternoon
we would sail with pleasant breeze
If you were the evening
- joyous adventure would await
And if you were the night
the stars would blink in amazement

This was quite possibly the sweetest present I have ever received.

I would rather have this than anything money can buy.

Hmmm ...

In typical fashion, just as I've decided that I want The Fella, another comes along. And because I have the attention span of a two-year-old, I find myself ... thinking ... about ... it ...

Always a dangerous thing, when my mind starts to wander. Something which I would say 'no' to if it were asked of me by someone, given enough time for my mind to process and consider, consider, consider all the options, can quite suddenly become a rather attractive proposition.

Which is to say, I am considering it.

When really, I shouldn't be considering anything else at all right now. Or anyone else, to be quite specific.

Damn it.

Options are great in general, but not when it comes to this. Especially when the one I have chosen is so far away ... and the one that remains an option is not far away at all.

White Truffle Cake

Yesterday was Australia Day and as I had no plans, I decided to try out another recipe from the book I had received as a present for my 30th birthday. The friend who gave it to me came over to help me out. I chose to make another batch of the citrus cookies and the white truffle cake. Above is the icing for the cake - a decadent mix of double cream, white chocolate and mascarpone cheese. When it was ready, we couldn't resist and ended up taking spoonfuls of it from the pan! It was so good ... but so bad, I'm sure.

The end result. It was a bit shorter than we expected, on hindsight I think the cake pan was too big. We were supposed to use a 20cm pan and I think mine was 25cm. It does look lovely!

Cutting the first slice. I couldn't finish my one. We had been nibbling all afternoon - citrus cookies, camembert, icing and not to mention a couple of glasses of red wine. All those strong flavours meant that the cake tasted rather bland to us. I will try another slice tomorrow and see if it tastes any better.

Citrus Star Cookies

I was inspired by a recipe book a friend gave me for my 30th birthday to bake a batch of cookies on Saturday. I had no plans and was in the house all day so had heaps of time to spare.

The recipe I chose was citrus crescents, pictured above. It had a handful of ingredients and the steps seemed simple enough. I hadn't baked for years so I wanted something to ease me back into it.

Cookie dough. Lack of a rolling pin required that I improvise - I ended up using a vodka bottle, then my hands. You can probably just make out bits of green and orange. That's the lime and orange rind. There was also lemon rind but that must be camaflouged by the overall beige yellow of the dough. Grating sucks.

I love the kitchen bench! It's smooth and cleanable. I can roll the dough on it, after dusting the bench with flour, of course.

15 minutes in the oven at 200 degrees celcius and this is the result. They look a bit burnt, especially the arms. They tasted perfect however, with a great burst of citrus with each bite. I had a handful with a cup of steaming hot English Breakfast tea.

I Don't Care About Your Money

At my birthday party, one of the guests was rather drunk and was spewing a load of crap. Mostly along the lines of how lonely/desperate/bitter he was. He was getting to be rather annoying and I stopped just short of telling him to leave.

One of his themes was how much he earns. Oh yeah, tell me baby, and maybe I'll do you. Yeah right. Whatever. So apparently it's a stack of money, he whispered into my ear exactly how much, and it's more than I earn at any rate.

Then he went on to say something like how much men earn is important to women. All the women at the table immediately said, 'No.' He said, 'Come on, that's bullshit.' We said, 'No.' He said, 'Then what do you look for, if it's not how much he earns?'. I said, 'It's more the actions. What he does versus what he can buy.'

Well, that shut him up.

This is the fella who offered to take me to the Whitsundays, cook me dinner and drive me to work. If he wasn't such a jerk, I'd consider it. But something tells me that the way he refers to women as 'bitch' and told one of the guys to tell his girlfriend 'to shut up' would bode no joy for me. I think he's one of those men who is ultimately all about himself. I don't care that he could probably buy me whatever I asked for. That's not a relationship, it's prostitution.

Pretending

I am tired of pretending I don't see you

Pretending I don't know that you see me, that you're watching me

Pretending you're not in the room

I am tired of it all

But most of all, I am tired of pretending I don't feel the way I do about you. That my heartbeat doesn't accelerate when you're close to me. That I would rather it be just the two of us in the room. That I have all these things to say to you.

I'm done pretending and I'm ready now, for you, for us and for what we may have to face.

Why Babies Get What They Want

I read this post by Susan Walsh last night and it tickled me so much I just had to mention it here. In summary, this is why babies get what they want and, for the most part, us ladies don't (in relationships, that is):

1. Babies are good at making eye contact

2. Babies are persistent

3. Babies are easily delighted

4. Babies don't overthink

5. Babies are open and honest

6. Babies don't hold grudges

I remember some time ago a friend commenting on how everybody seemed to spoil me. Everybody - from my parents to my boss to my friends. My response was: I'm easy to please.

After reading Susan Walsh's post, I don't think that is quite right - I am not easy to please at all. I have specific wants and have no fear of refusing things if they aren't exactly what I desire. I don't care who is paying the bill at a restaurant, it had better be at a restaurant that I like. I'm not going to pretend to be grateful if I'd rather be somewhere else.

No, what I should have said was: "When I'm pleased, I show that I am and make a fuss of the person who has pleased me." It was never a calculated decision, I just knew that I felt good when a fuss was made of something I had done and so it should follow that others would too. And they do keep coming back for me and I keep on getting what I want!

I Am Not An ATM

Last night, I received a rather imperious text message from Mother Dear, requesting nicely that I deposit $100 into baby bro's bank account because he had bills due.

I only just about managed not to throw my mobile at the wall.

The leap of anger I could feel at the back of my throat settled down to a steady flame while I responded, yes but tomorrow because I am in bed.

Then I sent her another one asking how urgent was this bill.

She responded, tomorrow is fine.

At which point, aforementioned steady flame roared into life and spread from the back of my throat down my chest - I was livid and someone was going to feel the sting of my arrows. I sent a snappy text stating he should give more notice next time and don't treat me like an ATM.

Her response to that was how much notice do you need?

Engulfed in flames and pulse pounding, I punched out a long, long, ranty text message conveying that:

- 2 weeks notice is required
- Sure I have cash, but I have been spending it too - on Europe flights, hotels, currency - and I had just sent her $2,000 last Thursday
- While I earn a good salary and have money to play with, I am on a controlled budget and I need to plan for everything
- Every little thing, including lip balm, is planned for so it has a minimum impact on my budget
- In that context, just suddenly asking for $100 to be paid in less that 24 hours can cause me a lot of stress
- So it would help me if I have enough notice
- Make that clear to him. He should know well in advance when his bills are due.

Don't treat me like an ATM. I'm not married to one either so I depend entirely on myself financially. Respect that and we'll be fine.