tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62150116907537011192024-02-19T17:50:05.658+11:00Made in Melbourne. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . from local and imported ingredientsk a t i ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13855028397344633215noreply@blogger.comBlogger417125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6215011690753701119.post-71548164394920298162012-02-21T17:44:00.002+11:002012-02-21T17:48:21.883+11:00Can't win!So, I've employed a cleaner for the more... yuk.. tasks, and naturally had to set my alarm early to get up and clean before she arrived. She starts doing her thing, and suggests I leave because she's better working by herself. I take myself off (and yes, pondering if that's so she can snoop in a more thorough manner), and arrive home to a gleaming, sparkling, wonderously clean home. In raptures of delight, I head outside to say hello to the dogs...and notice the piles of mud and dirt EVERYWHERE. I mean, it wasn't a few stray clods here and there; they'd completely decorated the back yard and decking with clumbs of dirt. Apparently, the new lettuces, pansies, spring onions and various other plants and vegetables were extremely comfortable to lay upon, and they were sure there was a delicious bone they'd left to marinade directly underneath my new lettuce seedlings. So, I have an internally spotless home, and two sulking, filthy dogs and a crime-scene like mess in the yard. Sometimes, you just can't win.k a t i ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13855028397344633215noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6215011690753701119.post-89382326898166343392012-02-20T12:18:00.002+11:002012-02-20T12:29:44.042+11:00Silver LiningWell, so much for some of the items on my bucket list - being a girl certainly is a pain in the ass (or, more precisely, ovaries) sometimes, and dealing with the dreams I have not ever going to be a reality is not something that comes easily. However, my mind-set has certainly been pretty positive this past week, being rushed to Emergency and spending days in hospital wasn't exactly fun, but I'm extremely proud of how I handled myself. The only tears I shed were directly related to the needle piercing my arm for my IV; nothing to do with moping about the things I know I can now not accomplish. When I looked around at the other people laying in beds in the resuscitation ward; it really did hit home how lucky I am to be able to do thousands of other things I want to do, and how much I need to focus on the things I CAN do, not the few I now can't. Top of that list is making sure I'm fit and healthy enough to enjoy my upcoming trip to America; something I have dreamed about and wished for my entire life. See, it's even #1 on my post below of things I want to do in my life; and I'm blessed I have an amazing man to share the future with and who holds my hand whilst I'm at the lowest physical point in my life, too, not just the highs.<br /><br />The top of my priority list now is to focus on university and make an impact on the right people during my placements at facilities I wouldn't have a chance to impress usually, get stuck into my new job next week once I'm well enough to go back and enjoy the company of the people I will be visiting and caring for, get these horses back into full work and take as much as I can from the jumps training instructor I've employed so I can do the best I can at my first competition, and keep looking after myself and look for more solutions to my current health problems. Most of all; I need to enjoy my life and love the people in it; this week has taught me to take nothing for granted and make the most of everything I have. I am truly, truly blessed to have such an amazing mother and partner; 3 perfect horses and my dogs who have been by my side non-stop since I was discharged, and friends from all over the world who have been an amazing support and source of entertainment. There's been a wonderful silver lining to things this week, one I'm glad I've been able to take away and learn from. I hope you all count your blessings much more than I have in the past; and know how lucky you are.k a t i ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13855028397344633215noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6215011690753701119.post-37446066284483997072011-10-26T10:28:00.002+11:002011-10-26T11:42:49.639+11:00Bucket List<div style="text-align: center;">I woke up this morning feeling a little uninspired for life. I had icky dreams, which always make me feel blah, but aside from that and the fact my dream job hasn't arrived this week (and feeling incredibly guilty having 2 weeks off whilst waiting for said job) I just feel a bit... lost. I don't know what to do with myself. There's a hundred things I should be doing, but I just can't settle. And so I started doing what I'm so good at: daydreaming. About all the things I wish I were doing instead of moping, and all the wonderful things I have done over the past few years, and I thought - Aha! Bucket list! What better timing to write it out and see what I can accomplish before my certain death on my birthday weekend when I attempt completing the <a href="http://toughmudder.com/">Tough Mudde</a>r. If you're wondering what I mean - here's a little sneak preview of what I have in store.<br /><br /><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/884I4Zgb860" allowfullscreen="" width="560" frameborder="0" height="315"></iframe><br /><br />Yes. That's correct. Barbed wire, electric shocks, fire pits and 20km of hell in between. All because I couldn't keep my big mouth shut when some douchebag said girls can't do it. Hah!<br /><br />Any way, here goes...<br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:180%;" > My Bucket List</span><br /><br /><br />* Go to New York. (There's actually an entire bucket list within this single item, such as ice skate in Central Park, get married at the Boat House, TGI's in Times Square, eat real New York Pizza...all the important things)<br /><br />* <s> Swim with sea turtles and dolphins </s> been there, done that. I do, however, have to see a live dugong or manatee, and it would be AMAZING to swim with one.<br /><br />* Compete in an event on Mr Darcy and win a ribbon. My all time biggest goal.<br /><br />* <s> Gallop through the surf with the wind in my hair and the salt spray in my face with my best friend on my own horse </s> Check. Also, doing this in Fiji & Vanuatu were fairly amazing.<br /><br />* See Robbie Williams/Thirsty Merc in concert. Or heck, the way I'm going, see ANY concert.<br /><br />* <s> Bungee Jump </s> Well, I cliff dived. And that was bloody scary enough to never want to do again. Falling 54 metres into a gully in Africa was quite sufficient to say "I've done it".<br /><br /><br />* Go to the Kentucky Derby and Royal Ascot races. I think leading in my own race horse at any race in Australia would work, too.<br /><br />* Get married. And have one of those over the water hut houses on the honeymoon in Bora Bora/Tahiti/Maldives etc. And inside this one, is the pathetically girly and sad comment "be everything to someone" and be treated like a princess. Actually, I think I'd basically settle for not dying alone with 19 cats and have to be lifted from my house because my addiction to Coco-Pops got the better of me.<br /><br />* Experience another white Christmas in England. Or America. Or Canada. Or all three.<br /><br />* Play ice hockey in Toronto - and visit all the places in the world I dream about - skiing in Queenstown, shopping in Paris, see France and Spain, and then all my ridng dreams - Trek through Peru and Nepal and Mongolia, gallop an Arab up sand dunes in Dubai, ride through the Aussie High Country and of course, go back to the place I am happiest in the world and ride through Africa again. I'd quite like to ride through the Rockies, too.<br /><br />* Compete a rally course without wrapping myself around a tree.<br /><br />* Finish this Tough Mudder in March and prove that girls can do ANYTHING.<br /><br />* Have my own property with land for my horses, the white German Shepherd I will one day own, and room to be self sufficient enough to live off the land.<br /><br />* Abseil a real, live cliff thing instead of just climb walls in a warehouse.<br /><br />* Fit into my clothes again.<br /><br />* To be continued....<br /><br /><br /><br />What's on YOUR bucket list?</div>k a t i ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13855028397344633215noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6215011690753701119.post-30424977130332666592011-10-26T10:19:00.002+11:002011-10-26T10:28:45.710+11:00Censorship.So, this blogging regularly thing? Fail. Still, i've got my excuses; number one being these fakes nails + my laptop keyboard = bad combination. Half of my Facebook posts are sent prematurely because nasty mister right ring finger nail hits enter when it slips off the L button, and most of my texts are missing vowels as it's so hard to type. The price for beauty!<br /><br />Secondly, and the sole reason I stopped blogging altogether: there's already people reading this that I don't reeeeally want to have reading it. There goes my vents, my honest and raw posts about things that actually matter to me when I need some way to get things off my chest, and also some of those happy posts about things and people I don't need others to be getting upset about. So, what to do? I guess I'll either censor these posts, and hope one day I'll come to my senses and not actually give a rats arse what certain somebodies think, or I'll give up entirely. Again. Not something I want to be doing... so, to that censorship! Instead of banging on about what a crappy, shitty, horribly horrible weekend I have endured, I shall move on to joyful, uplifting things... like... er. You know. Stuff. And things.<br /><br />Sigh...Moving on.k a t i ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13855028397344633215noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6215011690753701119.post-87817246757920729302011-10-13T13:15:00.003+11:002011-10-13T13:21:06.860+11:00You know what...?Bugger it. That last post, well, it was meant to be on my other blog. I.e, the one I use now, not this old one I haven't been using because I feel like all the old bits of myself I don't like linger in the background - and in a few posts, literally right there on the page for all to see. However... and this has taken some serious consideration, I'm back to my previous statement. Bugger it. I don't even <span style="font-style:italic;">like</span> my other blog, it never felt...well, like home. This is my blogging heart, and if the people who used to read this still do, I guess I'm OK with <s> them being creepy stalkers who won't accept me on Facebook, but still want to know about my life via blog </s> er...that.<br /><br />The only problem is, I can see myself spending the entire afternoon making changes to this so it's up to old standards. I guess the pool can wait a little longer...k a t i ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13855028397344633215noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6215011690753701119.post-39939419901743833692011-10-13T12:31:00.007+11:002011-10-13T13:06:53.204+11:00Bloggy blog...<div style="text-align: center;"><br />...how I've missed you! Lazing in my bed in the midday sun, scrolling through blogs and sites I haven't even squinted at for what, 6? months, made me realize how deeply I wanted to be back blogging. So here goes! I've quit my job, am still waiting for interviews next week as I'm hideously contagious with the lurgy (or at least a vile head cold) and have nothing on the cards or to do list that's any more strenuous than cleaning the bathroom sink for the next few days....so what better chance to catch up with the blogosphere? Except, of course, that I'm trying to book last minute accommodation for myself and the dogs this weekend to have some alone time with some kangaroos, koalas and a bottle of wine in a spa overlooking the beach somewhere... and that somewhere that wont include WIFI access. All the more reason to catch up today, then.<br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsqMW7alFbrAh00GW0scAdKpYWh8LZqbO1JSWlHBiltl9kcvLLycZ_NOKn58IE6dLHIlJJEIvhZ2Bo6Xyv7fzJyeuWHHmz-3_fmMCoEFeeF0XF9f0kb5v0JSKTMbUKNMTuL0P0lQNQdEdh/s1600/295.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsqMW7alFbrAh00GW0scAdKpYWh8LZqbO1JSWlHBiltl9kcvLLycZ_NOKn58IE6dLHIlJJEIvhZ2Bo6Xyv7fzJyeuWHHmz-3_fmMCoEFeeF0XF9f0kb5v0JSKTMbUKNMTuL0P0lQNQdEdh/s400/295.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662787739160304690" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">One of the most magical moments in my life - just me, an underwater camera and a wild sea turtle who was as curious of me as I was of him.</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">What's news? Well, aside from working, there's been a trip to Queensland, where I spent the days lounging by the pool, then the beach, then back to the pool...until I discovered a 1m acre ranch where I ended up spending my days riding on Australian Stock Horses rounding up cattle and mustering, and riding through the Daintree Rain Forest and along the beaches, ending with a job offer to work in the outback stations any time I want it in Far North QLD...I also ticked off swimming with sea turltles as I snorkeled the Great Barrier Reef, number 2 on my Bucket List.<br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcnW21KH2-oW2oxeQbYHjgg0hJdBZvrBrc_6M84Pz-0b0s9wl4khntZYzCD0iq_QHrfJnrOW6dBLX4YV6-unx6q7Vsv6erHolPnSVE6ieqgTSJKdsI3xmrZa_clDYmWUYAt81WoLdCjsEq/s1600/smeigel.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcnW21KH2-oW2oxeQbYHjgg0hJdBZvrBrc_6M84Pz-0b0s9wl4khntZYzCD0iq_QHrfJnrOW6dBLX4YV6-unx6q7Vsv6erHolPnSVE6ieqgTSJKdsI3xmrZa_clDYmWUYAt81WoLdCjsEq/s400/smeigel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662791212162681042" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Looky who I met in NZ!</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">I had a quick holiday in New Zealand, meeting Cam's extended family and enjoying the atmosphere of the Rugby World Cup. I really liked Auckland, it felt very British and the shoe shopping was ridiculously cheap! I also admired a lot of sheep.<br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlpBB7ZOPqXxhC71-LrHDNIEQj6PCdEc1FUYISjaELoIn1xCNEjJyeAR69IdUCExOzFuSxO4JRQYn3ziMb_VSxOmvV4YLxUMhhLNQ1Kt0UCnpXGmaE8DVnGuooXdfld2jXAoJXi9BW5i1k/s1600/piha.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlpBB7ZOPqXxhC71-LrHDNIEQj6PCdEc1FUYISjaELoIn1xCNEjJyeAR69IdUCExOzFuSxO4JRQYn3ziMb_VSxOmvV4YLxUMhhLNQ1Kt0UCnpXGmaE8DVnGuooXdfld2jXAoJXi9BW5i1k/s400/piha.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662791121090036562" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">The beautiful black sand of Piha beach.</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc0IimePQmFeQB3bVMEwcec_1MZBiYz7B43WKYatnjvgJ36sYn1W8MTg4kzDDowDyoPgRRFTJpJxyUmyH4AG3schBpQryJvLmSZpWpVYZ902nk8OIpet4hGE75rGCvYfVosu1ocBLggAF4/s1600/marathon.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc0IimePQmFeQB3bVMEwcec_1MZBiYz7B43WKYatnjvgJ36sYn1W8MTg4kzDDowDyoPgRRFTJpJxyUmyH4AG3schBpQryJvLmSZpWpVYZ902nk8OIpet4hGE75rGCvYfVosu1ocBLggAF4/s400/marathon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662791040586390434" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">... I survived!</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Last weekend I ran my first race in the Melbourne Marathon...ok, it was only the 5km, but I did it in a time I was happy with and didn't actually expire during the run, something I was worried about. I'm setting my sights on a longer and harder race in March...I can honestly say I've got a bit of a running bug now; being ill the past few days and only having one PT session this week makes me feel like poo.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7AXk3DcZNJkfpidUSmmlTq6K64aX3HSEA6SRd8-8zpXVQUPQ_JPHvgF3xKLooKrYkxSzH0V1HCb6G7ZpaAZskhoywAlGEgklvaHdKVunuv69vJIJ-oYks4zXbQ3jaupQWRNZfUXqeD5Sf/s1600/darcygallop.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7AXk3DcZNJkfpidUSmmlTq6K64aX3HSEA6SRd8-8zpXVQUPQ_JPHvgF3xKLooKrYkxSzH0V1HCb6G7ZpaAZskhoywAlGEgklvaHdKVunuv69vJIJ-oYks4zXbQ3jaupQWRNZfUXqeD5Sf/s400/darcygallop.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662790944035632834" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Darcy and I - loving life!</span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br />I also purchased a new car, and a horse float, and have spent some of the best days of my life galloping Darcy and Ista along the beach, with the sunshine beating down, my best friend at my side and sand and sea spray flying everywhere... absolutely the most incredible feeling in the world! Another bucket list tick off, galloping a Melbourne Cup runner through the waves on a completely desserted, never ending stretch of sand. The incident with the boggy, black quick sand and white breeches was rather unfortunate, but once Ista was dragged out and washed off, it was more amusing than terrifying.<br /><br />Now, I'm sure I've done more than this! However, the sun is shining, the pool is sparkling and I'm under doctors orders to rest up, so I'd best take a book and a towel outside and make sure I don't over-exert myself cleaning that sink.... until next time, which I promise will be sooner than later, I hope you're all well and enjoying life! I know I am :D<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>k a t i ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13855028397344633215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6215011690753701119.post-53183682723944809082010-04-06T11:41:00.004+10:002010-04-06T11:48:47.648+10:00Anyone for Time Travel?I've just finished The Time Traveler's Wife. I picked it up along with a couple of others for my recovery from surgery, and as soon as I smashed down the Jodi Picoult, I moved onto to Dear John, by Nicholas Sparks. In my current state of feeling like a piece of my own heart is missing somewhere overseas right now, I simply could not read it. I'll be saving it for a few months, I think. So I moved on to The TTW - and didn't really get into it for a while. I persevered (so many rave reveiews both from people I know AND Cosmo - it had to be good, right?!) - and ended up so <span style="font-style: italic;">attached</span> to it, I even took it to my post-op follow up appointment and sat, sobbing quietly as I neared the end of the book, out in the waiting room for all to see. I had to go for a quick cappuchino and a large quanitity of red licorice to snap myself out of it.<br /><br />I've been informed the movie is a bad job of a great book, and it doesn't really surprise me. I have absolutely no clue how that could be turned into a motion picture, but still, I think I might have a look-see at the DVD when I'm next at Civic Video stocking up on Milko lollies. (Why, why, WHY are they the only store that seems to still have them? I LOVE Milko's. Love them. I often make Cam rent a video just so I can buy one, or 8). ALthough the thought of Eric Banna in the nuddy doesn't do a whole lot of good for my central nervous system. I sincerely hope he managed to get a decent wax before filming began.<br /><br />Has anyone else read it? Loved it? Loathed it? And more importantly...what am I going to read next?k a t i ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13855028397344633215noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6215011690753701119.post-41309776592124885982010-03-25T11:14:00.002+11:002010-03-25T11:24:24.101+11:00Siiiiiiiiiiiigh.I'm a bit down in the dumps today. It's the first day since surgery I haven't been completely thrilled with life, which I guess means a) I should be grateful for miracle worker hospital staff and b) realize that I'm tired, sore, and not able to do the things I would normally be doing on such a gorgeous, gorgeous day. It's one of those days that seem like early Spring, with the first promise of Summer on it's way, rather than a mid-Autumn morning. If I had a day off like today and wasn't stuck in bed moping, I'd throw the dogs in the car and head straight to the beach (what am I saying? I live 200 metres from the ocean...jeez, I'm lazy!) and then purchase some beautiful sea-blue paint from Bunnings and get started on the Pool Room to give Cam a surprise when he arrives home from Sydney tonight. Then I think a nice swim in the pool, or a long solitary dusk ride on the horses, and s few beers at the pub enjoying the sun as it sets.<br /><br />Alas. Still, I got my stitches out last night, and I'm feeling a heap better soreness wise today, so it shant be long til I am back to my usual self, I suppose. I think, perhaps, I am a little down because it's my birthday on Monday, and I always get a bit funny about this time of year. I'm over-the-mood excited about swimming with the dolphins on Sunday, and my mum and nan coming up on Monday to spoilt me rotten (cupcakes were even mentioned...) but I guess the thought of having spent the past while in nothing but big baggy sweaters with unbrushed hair and no make up made me want to get all dolled up and feel pretty, just a little. We still haven't celebrated Cam's super-duper deal yet, either, and I was hoping I could do a little bit of the 'emerge from the chrysalis' thing one night. Oh well...<br /><br />Just randomly... I attempted watching Margot at the Wedding the other night. I just....no. Absolutely, not. Weird.<br />I was also half watching The Wizard of Oz (Cam rented me a heap of 'classics' I had never seen, like Grease and The Sound of Music) when I came out of my anesthetic, and boy, did I love Glinda the Good Witch's dress! I should like to get married in it.<br /><br />Anyway, enough moaning. Time to procure coffee and sit on the balcony and soak up some sun! (carefully avoiding getting more skin cancer, not looking forward to <span style="font-style: italic;">that</span> op next Thursday...)k a t i ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13855028397344633215noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6215011690753701119.post-85840559541441158342010-03-01T12:05:00.003+11:002010-03-01T13:21:11.451+11:00Altibo & I<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxnFeNimXCZ1HkW79Iy4l-yn5qBuSY7PwNm7T6VQaFCKUVtai_XIWcXi6EM7z07KHuRsfbnxRMtdiDUseoWwA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br /><br />You might want to listen to this with the sound OFF.<br /><br />Oh, and Cameron's referral to 'Head Bonk' is about Altibo's trot - he does this jumpy-butt flicky, head shaky thing when he goes into a trot (which you can't see here), if that's any kind of explanation.<br /><br />Any way.<br /><br />SILENCE IT.k a t i ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13855028397344633215noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6215011690753701119.post-63119514366505730172010-02-25T15:30:00.003+11:002010-02-25T15:34:07.316+11:00Perfection.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq2tlHA_tiYa7PiW28cuOrQFJSfAIRtQPa6TehNpxkZtnx7Tzg2GhwXTa31zCehBDs7EwOdipYjYAGRZl1CW_WQwLV2dZCQcs0xCBRDbgK7LbKB0M9M-EnqLeye7O_i8sJrg7Naz2nXWs5/s1600-h/perfectwedding.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 220px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq2tlHA_tiYa7PiW28cuOrQFJSfAIRtQPa6TehNpxkZtnx7Tzg2GhwXTa31zCehBDs7EwOdipYjYAGRZl1CW_WQwLV2dZCQcs0xCBRDbgK7LbKB0M9M-EnqLeye7O_i8sJrg7Naz2nXWs5/s320/perfectwedding.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442034612135054274" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">This is just The. Cutest. Wedding. Ever.<br /><br />If I ever get married (*cosmically feels Cam start twitching and suddenly feeling the urge to run far, far away*), I want to super-impose my head on the bride from those photos.<br /><br /><br />...and maybe re-color the horse a solid brown so I can pretend he's Altibo. Which was technically, never work, as my groom wouldn't get a chance to be sat, bareback, without being flung unceremoniously into the dirt with a ruthless buck.<br /></div>k a t i ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13855028397344633215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6215011690753701119.post-13668297368306071482010-02-25T15:20:00.004+11:002010-02-25T15:27:41.562+11:00Bad Habit<div style="text-align: center;">So, I'm sitting here, all lonesome, putting off my Euthanasia homework* and trying my best to not purchase another hideously unflattering dress from eBay, and slurping down an enormous bucket of Subway Coca-Cola. I love Subway Coke buckets. They are my current vice - my one little bit of naughtiness in my Good Eating Mission. Because of that, I enjoy every last drop...but I didn't have that luxury with my bucket last week.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_5meylcIEcZr4hK_CUu6GPkDc2zT8o8h9tg0db5qZRdRQFlTtaXkklqoenkEsA1ThzC1_Tedmomv17YsEVGae5yZ8jlNJipCGwnETDQBznUmQqSbyfxjSZQQl-bbEdNJxDO22GClHWwEG/s1600-h/altibohabit.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_5meylcIEcZr4hK_CUu6GPkDc2zT8o8h9tg0db5qZRdRQFlTtaXkklqoenkEsA1ThzC1_Tedmomv17YsEVGae5yZ8jlNJipCGwnETDQBznUmQqSbyfxjSZQQl-bbEdNJxDO22GClHWwEG/s400/altibohabit.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442032094803223250" border="0" /></a> See? He actually tries to inhale it. I think he likes the bubbles. Either way, I'm beginning to suspect he has a coke habit.<br /><br />*Even less fun than it sounds.<br /></div>k a t i ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13855028397344633215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6215011690753701119.post-37154909701916212342010-02-24T17:33:00.007+11:002010-02-24T17:46:56.025+11:00Camping<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNSFxJUt_HL2n4TC8z8Uqbh1H_ndxyxXNRjmickVtLl1i3JqWdJR6bqZlKXWZ5G5rrbn8XzH7Wkv1FnsXdmHDBr3vU2NCNyu7JZCLn_eZQ-MsgEgN0FtRPVVajpsvu8OJwxn2qlWl2IpjC/s1600-h/IMGP1642.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNSFxJUt_HL2n4TC8z8Uqbh1H_ndxyxXNRjmickVtLl1i3JqWdJR6bqZlKXWZ5G5rrbn8XzH7Wkv1FnsXdmHDBr3vU2NCNyu7JZCLn_eZQ-MsgEgN0FtRPVVajpsvu8OJwxn2qlWl2IpjC/s400/IMGP1642.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441694778739056290" border="0" /></a>Last weekend, Cam and I chucked a few* things in the car and headed off for a weekend getaway with the kids. We camped at one of the few dog friendly areas in Victoria, and aside from the gale force winds, inflatable mattress deflating every 15 minutes throughout the night (until my dearly beloved discovered he hadn't tightened the valve properly at around 5am...) so we slept on the rather hard ground, and me worrying about Phoenix's bladder**, we had a pretty good time. I wont bring into the near war that occurred when Cameron and I both had our ideas about how a tent should be erected - things were said, punches were thrown*** - but we got there in the end.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY2Pvi9P_4hvBUs5a__IFNFarqK084HF0hqs46UBCooHEPAR0vEimnIIVrf2m4BTrvI6yGdHGMAuPmi0Foefq0U7DXW3oo3IRzjN6EcscNFQovS38zqZgMqCUJlqta5x08I8t3fJrtbdGi/s1600-h/IMGP1646.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY2Pvi9P_4hvBUs5a__IFNFarqK084HF0hqs46UBCooHEPAR0vEimnIIVrf2m4BTrvI6yGdHGMAuPmi0Foefq0U7DXW3oo3IRzjN6EcscNFQovS38zqZgMqCUJlqta5x08I8t3fJrtbdGi/s400/IMGP1646.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441694660381937106" border="0" /></a>The dogs were scarily well behaved. Not only did they get to spend every waking moment by our side; they also got to frolic and run in and out of the surf (or, in Phoenix's case, get completely smashed by wave after wave after wave...), but they also got various bits of sausage, bacon and hash browns from our breakfast feast.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtDxgdRp8tVnBijmvy0ANfZ0hNiwTGwA7IOHZoYP_3fozDjMi89aIQM-g8kgAqKQOw-pv0yLfGUs-jWIo3qr5Ogprv3A70xW8NeNxJNzVOfc9w72Sn20VgVTsemQPF-iKj2O_e4Nkd83kl/s1600-h/IMGP1650.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtDxgdRp8tVnBijmvy0ANfZ0hNiwTGwA7IOHZoYP_3fozDjMi89aIQM-g8kgAqKQOw-pv0yLfGUs-jWIo3qr5Ogprv3A70xW8NeNxJNzVOfc9w72Sn20VgVTsemQPF-iKj2O_e4Nkd83kl/s400/IMGP1650.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441694548288970562" border="0" /></a>On the way home, we went a little out of our way to visit the <s> 7 and a half </s> 12 Apostles. As pretty as they were, there's only so much excitement one can glean from staring at rock formations, so I was soon in a world of my own imaging galloping Darcy up and down that gorgeous stretch of sand...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUsHeerWja6javuvg1TH8XlbBQJduPy82jkHP-gX2hehl8A0ZNZIyYpGnjqjGiQf3TdtqMKJQk0b2X92I6Rp26ToeE7hVguJt3ME8ECkkLf1H3xnAI_-rv-jTC0de71WDrNmP5RbcwyzEW/s1600-h/IMGP1654.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUsHeerWja6javuvg1TH8XlbBQJduPy82jkHP-gX2hehl8A0ZNZIyYpGnjqjGiQf3TdtqMKJQk0b2X92I6Rp26ToeE7hVguJt3ME8ECkkLf1H3xnAI_-rv-jTC0de71WDrNmP5RbcwyzEW/s400/IMGP1654.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441694430582175426" border="0" /></a>See? Off in fairy land.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqQ_NQq-Du2w3i6jJAWPNhg9CxsDiZ0p5Vv_DXmD5qjYxkmiT7hzPjPJksKbVliuaLzcanijK9KqmokMr2KPlmrAwZ5wRCKfpNXHHwklIAa8xLmesaL3Gpw257xvt8enWe8_bx3XrziJcm/s1600-h/IMGP1619.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqQ_NQq-Du2w3i6jJAWPNhg9CxsDiZ0p5Vv_DXmD5qjYxkmiT7hzPjPJksKbVliuaLzcanijK9KqmokMr2KPlmrAwZ5wRCKfpNXHHwklIAa8xLmesaL3Gpw257xvt8enWe8_bx3XrziJcm/s400/IMGP1619.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441694883487926290" border="0" /></a>*How we managed to shove not only the 2 dogs - who, as you can see, aren't exactly lap-size- but the 8 man tent, queen sized inflatable mattress, Esky and various bags of food, a gas cooker, lantern, bellows, large cardboard box full of saucepans (and 4 bottles of bug spray - I came prepared!) plus our king sized doona, two pillows, a slab of Johnnie Walker and Cameron and myself into my car is beyond me. Beyond me.<br /><br />** The dog wont wee on lead. Let alone do anything else. After boiling up 3 litres of water for them, and all the sea he swallowed as he crashed through the waves, I was so worried the poor childs bladder would burst I got up at what seemed like every hour, on the hour, to take him out for a potty break. To absolutely no avail.<br /><br />*** I kid, I kid.k a t i ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13855028397344633215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6215011690753701119.post-79963662070654667062010-02-09T12:02:00.001+11:002010-02-09T12:04:21.906+11:00Gorgeous giveaway!We all know I like anything to do with puppies - and when I saw this gorgeous giveaway of sweet puppy inspired notecards from <a href="http://lydiaandpugs.com/">Lydia & Pugs</a>, I decided to do everything in my power to win!<br /><br />Head on over to the <a href="http://lydiaandpugs.com/">Lydia & Pugs</a> website, and check our her gorgeous array of goodies. While you're busy making new tabs - check out <a href="http://www.imasouthernmomma.com/2010/02/ch-ch-change.html">Short Southern Momma's</a> beautiful blog, too!k a t i ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13855028397344633215noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6215011690753701119.post-76766507848555110732010-02-09T09:05:00.021+11:002010-02-09T10:04:35.196+11:00Stuff.<div style="text-align: center;">It has been forever since I have blogged. Recently, this has been due to not only my hunk of crap computer and/or gaylord internet service being broken (and not exactly fixed now, I am, in fact, laying face down on the floor and propping myself up to type as my monitor has to be on the ground for my modem to reach...oh, to have my wireless working...) but also due to the fact I am very much enjoying being a student...yep, I got into vet school (ok, 'Animal Technology', but it'll be a vet qualification I gain at the end if I work hard enough...). Not so much enjoying, but loving. Being around like minded people who actually understand what I mean when I speak of skin pinches, anterial cruciate ligaments, the diet choices of rats... it's almost like I belong. I'm so used to the blank stares, eye rolling and complete cut-off that comes with talking about my passion, it's nice to speak with people, literally all day, about the things that excite me and to have an animated, two-sided conversation in return.<br /><br />As well as that, I'm spending as much time as I can with the horses and riding at dusk with Cam, as well as swimming the dogs at the beach at sunset most nights, which, after the 35+ degree days is a gorgeous way to end the day. I'm also busy being completely addicted to How To Look Good Naked - I love me a gay man, and Gok just knocks my socks off. It's also pretty gratifying to realize I'm not as hideously and grotesquely fat and bulgy as I've been feeling lately, and as well as eating nothing but good stuff for the past few weeks and the extra exercise riding, swimming and climbing of horrendously steep stairs by the Slave Driver, I'm feeling a whole lot better about myself and my 6 stomachs. Cam and I have also been having a hit of tennis, which aside from making me produce some shocking obscenities (tennis is one of the 3 things in my life I want more than anything to be good at, and hate that I'm not as amazingly talented as I dream myself to be) makes me laugh - and run, something I usually despise. I'm looking forward to our membership at the country club - the courts are elevated to look out over the bay to the city, and the club rooms have a deck to watch the sunset over the ocean, as well as our own beach box on the sand for BBQs and parties.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9SQDAYYgNntQ-0S01rGsiU9YZ8JLS9g2EowMeqwIaK0qSNMaVWjk4TO9AWSEBBCzq_kqse8MsC8Pi45fbPwzVhMDDYpO4LvKJUwsE_0G23hZJPrBOFPDV958kKWRk9PHN9pHIsuMnRh6P/s1600-h/IMGP0758.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9SQDAYYgNntQ-0S01rGsiU9YZ8JLS9g2EowMeqwIaK0qSNMaVWjk4TO9AWSEBBCzq_kqse8MsC8Pi45fbPwzVhMDDYpO4LvKJUwsE_0G23hZJPrBOFPDV958kKWRk9PHN9pHIsuMnRh6P/s320/IMGP0758.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436003395414865154" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">View of the Petronas Towers from our room in KL </span><br /><br />I don't even think I've blogged since Borneo...which was incredible. We had our first day in Kuala Lumpur, shopping and sight seeing and getting our feet eaten by fishes at the massage place we went to, and enjoying a 6 strong police escort to dinner through the hills of Malaysia.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4sZmg4K-f1uLvR-4lG4K1WMZqWOLZrOeFrynmAKHRaiOTfat40RK5MdSGfujTQQivC-Tj_WSCEqSaeYdCcXGCiSc_7bmO1pmFSHnRDkUaUzEREzVuQgGJm4ZWV2qCmn_gcBy2rfNZAbKn/s1600-h/IMGP0877.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4sZmg4K-f1uLvR-4lG4K1WMZqWOLZrOeFrynmAKHRaiOTfat40RK5MdSGfujTQQivC-Tj_WSCEqSaeYdCcXGCiSc_7bmO1pmFSHnRDkUaUzEREzVuQgGJm4ZWV2qCmn_gcBy2rfNZAbKn/s400/IMGP0877.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436004269071702178" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-weight: bold;">Looking out our room in Borneo ... paradise, no?</span><br /><br />We were treated like royalty for a week - 5 star hotels, amazing food, free drinks, private islands and all day massages, and having flower petals thrown as we walked when we entered restaurants and hotels. Absolutely amazing. The view from our resort in Kota Kinabalu...just incredible.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQT330pKxSBHmuHEFnWfSTXmjCP3rp8vi-zwR7xo8upvG3194IvjU_zTKo7J3iqU81F4WY0LkpQ9DOI00VfrOU_v7TbXqc6L7EmLOn21gpuP7SF67qdJpQBY9ni-YqQUeYRv-13U-kW8Ca/s1600-h/IMGP0814.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQT330pKxSBHmuHEFnWfSTXmjCP3rp8vi-zwR7xo8upvG3194IvjU_zTKo7J3iqU81F4WY0LkpQ9DOI00VfrOU_v7TbXqc6L7EmLOn21gpuP7SF67qdJpQBY9ni-YqQUeYRv-13U-kW8Ca/s400/IMGP0814.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436003650098295826" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;"> Feeding frenzy fishes! Soooo ticklish... </span><br /><br />There were so many fantastic days and moments - the day we had our own private island, where I took on 4 other guys and Cam at water sports and held my own through complete and utter horror on the banana boat and fly fish - a huge inflatable raft attached to a speed boat that flies 3+ meters in the air behind it, weaving and flipping as it flies...one of the most incredibly fun yet terrifyingly scary things I've done.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhsU03Xcjq27cyksxLXkj__I5f270oxmQv-uO4Dg7RkWK_4AI670F5sSJX304nTbNRK0upjLcHNzZnViZdZ-yrOkiU4Qkh2ovZtdZ5LeRCsvsK7X1P7hxpZAbtmd726SA4n7H2NwaealZj/s1600-h/IMGP1007.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhsU03Xcjq27cyksxLXkj__I5f270oxmQv-uO4Dg7RkWK_4AI670F5sSJX304nTbNRK0upjLcHNzZnViZdZ-yrOkiU4Qkh2ovZtdZ5LeRCsvsK7X1P7hxpZAbtmd726SA4n7H2NwaealZj/s320/IMGP1007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436004579367890594" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;"> Our private island </span><br /><br />The Gala Dinner that evening was just mind blowing - the ballroom had been done up in a "jungle green" theme to match our "jungle green" attire (remember me wondering what to wear?) and was decked out in wall to wall trees and vines, with the floor covered in leaves.. our own little piece of the jungle for the night. Every got merry on the all you could drink alcohol, and we danced the night away to the live band, and carried on at the hotel nightclub after - no one told me the guy I was grinding on was the MD of the company, we were all just having a blast!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"> - Gala Dinner photos -</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeY_O8dTKPQh4ocomg68TC3dQmDQ-hvRL5-xvEWmG8cGoU3fcx2Nxx9SA2ziYhRaAI9rJLYsqJRlIRxQDnfuMiEaTBn_eq3aO9n_WQtbKtebsKQt2jBErcA4MFCmLbjMT8KaPd-Upyb6iS/s1600-h/IMGP1052.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeY_O8dTKPQh4ocomg68TC3dQmDQ-hvRL5-xvEWmG8cGoU3fcx2Nxx9SA2ziYhRaAI9rJLYsqJRlIRxQDnfuMiEaTBn_eq3aO9n_WQtbKtebsKQt2jBErcA4MFCmLbjMT8KaPd-Upyb6iS/s320/IMGP1052.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436005418702968834" border="0" /><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Our little room of jungle! Even the waitresses were safari-inspired.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxfj6es-vixaTTPKPYBt-m78hEajkwdpp86-zc5G9ImdVITtkPG713BG_f-U3mtZU0kjntuPfU30fATc6bund0gbrORMToUtBxGf3n2jbGENYu7A_0dlVA71dLvKwmZhIRKjd9zlOc90ob/s1600-h/IMGP1115.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxfj6es-vixaTTPKPYBt-m78hEajkwdpp86-zc5G9ImdVITtkPG713BG_f-U3mtZU0kjntuPfU30fATc6bund0gbrORMToUtBxGf3n2jbGENYu7A_0dlVA71dLvKwmZhIRKjd9zlOc90ob/s320/IMGP1115.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436005892583088482" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">We got a bit messy after the jugs of Long Island Iced Tea came out...</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK0wJroTuz4l1h0aBe7Zn_wMSHDC3RUYG3YycOpATWEx7DNv-0x2EtuZj-OppbuMpam0ZEZp4WrIf1v-CzppO4XOrxVTplFomSV-BMBocoC-HSIAEkTm2Qfws5bEd5Tjhp0tUGCnqGANak/s1600-h/IMGP1074.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK0wJroTuz4l1h0aBe7Zn_wMSHDC3RUYG3YycOpATWEx7DNv-0x2EtuZj-OppbuMpam0ZEZp4WrIf1v-CzppO4XOrxVTplFomSV-BMBocoC-HSIAEkTm2Qfws5bEd5Tjhp0tUGCnqGANak/s320/IMGP1074.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436006510341185026" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">I was absolutely besotted with our 'palate cleanser' - mango gelato served in our own individual ice caves.</span><br /><br /><br />Unfortunately, due to my 'lady problems' I had a fit on the morning we were flying out to the jungle for the orangutan sanctuary, and missed the flight. I felt absolutely awful for wrecking Cam's day, so I asked around at the hotel and found a local wildlife park, where we got to spend time with the keepers, feed the sun bears and tigers and see otters and gibbons, and even get up close and cuddle up to a baby orangutan, Mowgli...turned out the people who flew to the orangutans only saw 2 or 3 in the bushes, while we got to play with our very own one - turns out we had the better day!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1c4W1nW4qyFxrYOMOOnCJvwtpp3cO9xq_-KwgfBrFO7gLUpYF_xFTcKZzCdHhR2MBumZ8sio02GxrFOMu6SZhfOMvOOdYv0aKnI_oE76X-fdkU9javda-DLppjryTg6MO6x4uxkYzfgJs/s1600-h/IMGP1501.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1c4W1nW4qyFxrYOMOOnCJvwtpp3cO9xq_-KwgfBrFO7gLUpYF_xFTcKZzCdHhR2MBumZ8sio02GxrFOMu6SZhfOMvOOdYv0aKnI_oE76X-fdkU9javda-DLppjryTg6MO6x4uxkYzfgJs/s400/IMGP1501.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436006845189277602" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Mowgli and I :)</span><br /><br />We had an amazing trip, I coped relatively well with the flights (after 2 Valium and a lot of scotch on the way over...) and came back with some great memories, and even better photos! Here's some randoms... and next years rewards trip from Cam's work is Africa...!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOQSRpwug5CsOxpbD9nCwrX8Iap8hbr5tCUgoXpJufji0uV5AhKRthIBpFWZwq-zbPgzQuNctTL-WyWiHrvp3UxzgIrY3iNdy-iQj7fASxx9D99tEmXUf6lwbbkIFvQKFxf9N1q9bCupge/s1600-h/IMGP1467.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOQSRpwug5CsOxpbD9nCwrX8Iap8hbr5tCUgoXpJufji0uV5AhKRthIBpFWZwq-zbPgzQuNctTL-WyWiHrvp3UxzgIrY3iNdy-iQj7fASxx9D99tEmXUf6lwbbkIFvQKFxf9N1q9bCupge/s400/IMGP1467.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436010147334304498" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Gibbons...super cute, and very entertaining!</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYhwO-rvOTDi5_MLmFIMYGKv33X5H1ajNylLFiDAcouCtBaX9r-wbO3_2JyDyYNqO7k8Yj2LK4c7wUxXpIRs8V-PKTSTCjVzyUwe2Ezkp7LASAOBA7t-5TJ5IbDTX87uZKbdbaprbcBrzA/s1600-h/IMGP0983.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYhwO-rvOTDi5_MLmFIMYGKv33X5H1ajNylLFiDAcouCtBaX9r-wbO3_2JyDyYNqO7k8Yj2LK4c7wUxXpIRs8V-PKTSTCjVzyUwe2Ezkp7LASAOBA7t-5TJ5IbDTX87uZKbdbaprbcBrzA/s400/IMGP0983.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436009931977402354" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Early morning relax by the beach...</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd-PTOvfpgpx7Ta-ixpmKnGrYUorF2uaLINQg_sVXUjon1e6ObFUeSAdRXo5jHCsmB36DJgmBBrpOjLWRq6fDTNK4VCGHJs0f6q-LyGHtEevXTn4peDn2kiw4Q3O0KM_ukNzAObraqKZzk/s1600-h/IMGP1509.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd-PTOvfpgpx7Ta-ixpmKnGrYUorF2uaLINQg_sVXUjon1e6ObFUeSAdRXo5jHCsmB36DJgmBBrpOjLWRq6fDTNK4VCGHJs0f6q-LyGHtEevXTn4peDn2kiw4Q3O0KM_ukNzAObraqKZzk/s400/IMGP1509.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436009439868907394" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Cam & Mowgli</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4hjID2A5z5M4TYxS4gabu4NdziRXwxnkUCZxzoiS_9osiNNYH8VMqqrtr56nMGgWEK82oHyUxDuzE3FMUxeKicCAhvQkGftkAqa3TNQzHskQ29XEPBDkud-fWmCwx-OgudlPXfo_CZ9eE/s1600-h/IMGP0901.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4hjID2A5z5M4TYxS4gabu4NdziRXwxnkUCZxzoiS_9osiNNYH8VMqqrtr56nMGgWEK82oHyUxDuzE3FMUxeKicCAhvQkGftkAqa3TNQzHskQ29XEPBDkud-fWmCwx-OgudlPXfo_CZ9eE/s400/IMGP0901.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436008622237150402" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">One of the 5 pools (which was just as warm as a bath!)</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHAImGG2a0VgRydLLXKnqwKbrt6xSCVudiSxXZt-2XOKGgoxYPWiylmyjRhmbmTO-1D6vQJpfQe1jarygX4ovpvEW5PUt8hf3M-JZmO3Ef2Q8yGWV3vsVu9xN4PjTLCzrxfxwtkgur_N1O/s1600-h/IMGP1556.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHAImGG2a0VgRydLLXKnqwKbrt6xSCVudiSxXZt-2XOKGgoxYPWiylmyjRhmbmTO-1D6vQJpfQe1jarygX4ovpvEW5PUt8hf3M-JZmO3Ef2Q8yGWV3vsVu9xN4PjTLCzrxfxwtkgur_N1O/s400/IMGP1556.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436008020514370530" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">The storm settling in on our final night</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg817NeG1nsc0TTPvdP5m1aHo1_xXEOOdGoEjWpBP3okBYg1eGYCCm8AmSdaFcjWQx2i4iuOXsI5w47-Opdb5Gw6HoL82Z1OLaNyInOb4Yp6EdlWXFRhBILQ87Kes-Po4000yD3f17vedCV/s1600-h/IMGP1582.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg817NeG1nsc0TTPvdP5m1aHo1_xXEOOdGoEjWpBP3okBYg1eGYCCm8AmSdaFcjWQx2i4iuOXsI5w47-Opdb5Gw6HoL82Z1OLaNyInOb4Yp6EdlWXFRhBILQ87Kes-Po4000yD3f17vedCV/s400/IMGP1582.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436007134496822066" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Us on the balcony on our last morning in Borneo!</span><br /></div>k a t i ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13855028397344633215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6215011690753701119.post-24311795565832854922010-01-04T20:47:00.004+11:002010-01-04T21:06:51.215+11:00NYE & Brog<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdIfpXm2nenj6R3_IS6bpPuM2R9L6n-X8LxB7OBnp9RJi5N5maqu8p6K9TmmOiL1gaaqoUT2pzMuh3wuBnKHLuUE9ZXeeUw3R_yIt_VjwBZ2IGcncj1vclFfk9g_D91VzONuYL4IEHNWgu/s1600-h/sunsetbeach.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 303px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdIfpXm2nenj6R3_IS6bpPuM2R9L6n-X8LxB7OBnp9RJi5N5maqu8p6K9TmmOiL1gaaqoUT2pzMuh3wuBnKHLuUE9ZXeeUw3R_yIt_VjwBZ2IGcncj1vclFfk9g_D91VzONuYL4IEHNWgu/s400/sunsetbeach.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422820199524571042" border="0" /></a>While Cam's taking the kids out for their walkies - I've been banished to the couch due to my horrendous couch and not allowed out so I can heal myself nicely in time for Thursday - I thought I'd do a little brogging - a bragging blog. We received the final itinerary and information pack along with our tickets today, and finally, I am excited. It hasn't seemed real until now, but looking through the individually made booklet we received about where/when/how/why etc, it finally kicked in. We fly out Thursday for two nights in the Westin in Kuala Lumpur, then off to Borneo where all sorts of exciting things happen. As I was reading the information, I was amazed to read about the jet we're taking to the orangutan rehabilitation centre where we get to feed and play with the baby orangutans, the private island we have to ourselves for a day of jet skiing, snorkelling, all-day massages or anything else that tickles our fancy, the white water rafting trip and the gala dinners... it sounds incredible! All I have to do now is get over this yukky cold - the result of a New Years Eve that went from 38c to freezing cold and an absolute downpour whilst we were on the deck of the boat...my hair and make up were impeccable until about 4 minutes in, when my false eyelashes blew off in a strong gust of wind and my hair was soaked to my scalp with the rain. Sexy look! Here's a preview:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKsGKm_9Tc43nmY3S5-gn86Lt2o3A-Kc0hig1YzRO9H3PXyc8O8tHbGpkXyzGdDQfJAHWMIRzmcblc55BY-lZ0G8udwDv1RIpDbR5FtNFNqh2q8L6OaCRcYsjcXd3hQJvmb5G7iy3dTxnr/s1600-h/IMGP0649.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKsGKm_9Tc43nmY3S5-gn86Lt2o3A-Kc0hig1YzRO9H3PXyc8O8tHbGpkXyzGdDQfJAHWMIRzmcblc55BY-lZ0G8udwDv1RIpDbR5FtNFNqh2q8L6OaCRcYsjcXd3hQJvmb5G7iy3dTxnr/s200/IMGP0649.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422823934101537474" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Hope you all had a great time!k a t i ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13855028397344633215noreply@blogger.com46tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6215011690753701119.post-66127266038362260402009-12-30T12:36:00.003+11:002009-12-30T12:43:06.818+11:00...I am very, very Buff....<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOCCVslg3mqgOpZroaY4_DYTVojSylTLU3IDDVsg6ibkbIHHNKcHrp-xuxuPDkiaDEGwegVv7ixohMUv2giROnsLKIMvhNgVJRQywS6BjeqbdSTsllYjUbq0IdE14IJjyMseMsy7B5Ckl-/s1600-h/buff.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 225px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOCCVslg3mqgOpZroaY4_DYTVojSylTLU3IDDVsg6ibkbIHHNKcHrp-xuxuPDkiaDEGwegVv7ixohMUv2giROnsLKIMvhNgVJRQywS6BjeqbdSTsllYjUbq0IdE14IJjyMseMsy7B5Ckl-/s400/buff.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420837308286887282" border="0" /></a><br /><br />There is nothing I don't have crossed in hope and will that this item arrives, from America, before I fly out on the 6th to Borneo.<br /><br />Nothing.<br /><br />(It's a buff from the Survivor: Pearl Islands series, my personal favorite with Rupert and Johnny Fairplay.. gold. Absolute gold.)<br /><br />Now..if only Jeff Probst would deliver it by hand. Drool.<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOa3OB6X6587vYugvbj5LbaiTFAUTM16aN84V7DtVX8LozQyW6kM-KBtbzQ2j5p1w-m4wCgk2IUHcQVqDRNKBRMssY-1HszbbuuAjLsAWWl_db0RdxWiTQFOD3X3lymt1CAkd4fDpjKbhK/s1600-h/jeff_probst.0.0.0x0.300x450.jpeg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOa3OB6X6587vYugvbj5LbaiTFAUTM16aN84V7DtVX8LozQyW6kM-KBtbzQ2j5p1w-m4wCgk2IUHcQVqDRNKBRMssY-1HszbbuuAjLsAWWl_db0RdxWiTQFOD3X3lymt1CAkd4fDpjKbhK/s400/jeff_probst.0.0.0x0.300x450.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420838283935442114" border="0" /></a>k a t i ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13855028397344633215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6215011690753701119.post-5642870254169888882009-12-14T12:44:00.003+11:002009-12-14T13:02:36.336+11:00Sydney<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoXlgbHEN6m4q0vKqVLgfzsUhRaHQAcTY9SogB4rCzK7Wk83NYQgakfiejOvMnIBuk2D83aa1DFQqiF4JmDLyd02emazIIZzGXvESIGcUibwSk3GVxO2RoEvUHnNod9VGtx26YJXSiOmjV/s1600-h/sebel.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoXlgbHEN6m4q0vKqVLgfzsUhRaHQAcTY9SogB4rCzK7Wk83NYQgakfiejOvMnIBuk2D83aa1DFQqiF4JmDLyd02emazIIZzGXvESIGcUibwSk3GVxO2RoEvUHnNod9VGtx26YJXSiOmjV/s400/sebel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414905818721119410" border="0" /></a><br />After making it through the weekend of Cam's family Christmas alive and mostly intact (and having been compensated handsomely for my house-wifely duties with a Louis Vuitton scarf, Chanel purse and a large plant) I have absolutely nothing in the way stopping me from being all out, gosh darn, truly completely and overly excited about the next two weeks. Oh, except the whole being away from Cam for the week of Christmas thing. Still, we have so many things to look forward to before he flies out, and as excruciatingly painful as it was the last time we were apart for so long, I know we'll both be having a great time with our families as well.<br /><br />The first thing on my Yay! list?<br /><br />I'm flying to Sydney on Thursday to stay in the gorrrrgeous hotel Cam has for his work trip. He'll be working most of the time, which is why it's so handy my best girl Sarah is coming with me! I've never been to Sydney - the hotel is actually UNDER the Harbour Bridge (see pic!) There will be much exploration, shopping, wining and dining, and general tourist-y activities, as well as a dinner with another of my all time favorite people, Cam's work mate Bolge. I've already started packing - one can't have enough pairs of shoes for a single night trip, right?<br /><br />Next comes Saturday. Cam and I wanted to do something a bit special for a number of reasons; a delayed anniversary, our last weekend together, an early Christmas treat for Sarah and I as we'll be apart for Christmas, too, and a generally magic night out. I've wanted to go to the Moonlight Cinema for a long time, and Cam found a screening of something I'm apparently going to love (I'm being a good girl and not googling what it is!) and as well as our plans to enjoy dinner on the Restaurant Tram - something else I've always wanted to do - we're going to take a picnic hamper along with our blanket to watch the movie, and maybe have a little champage and some nibblies under the moonlight.<br /><br />The next day, I have a few plans of my own up my sleeve, and the only chance we'll have to attend any Christmas carols together happens to take place at one of our all time favorite places, The Bridge. We spent many nights there together last Summer, watching the sun set over the ocean and eating ourselves silly, so I'm very excited the carols will be sung out the front! I LOVE Christmas carols (as evidenced by the 5 Christmas CD mixes I currently have in my car, plus three more inside...) and I thought it would be nice to drag Cam along with me.<br /><br />After that, I plan on heading down to my Mums for the week of Christmas, complete with my tent, dogs, cats and presents. I'm going to camp again this year, as it affords me a little more privacy than in the house, and it feels a bit like a mini-holiday of my own out all alone in the backyard with just the dogs and a torch for company. Cam will fly out Christmas Eve morning, so we'll be having another mini-Christmas on Christmas Eve Eve. After that, it'll be days and days of spending time chilling with my Mum, Nan and brother, walking the dogs along the beach and ripping open all my extremely-funny shaped presents (I've already been squeezing them and reading the cryptic clues...and I've got no idea what I'm getting, except for the giant case for my trip to Borneo!). It's going to be fantastic :)<br /><br />(and further forward on the Yay! list - after a New Years Eve with my 4 favorite people, cruising along the river watching fireworks and drinking champers, Cam and I have a week together relaxing before we fly off to Kuala Lumpur and the jungle of Borneo! Yay!)k a t i ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13855028397344633215noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6215011690753701119.post-39463708051778693762009-12-09T13:47:00.006+11:002009-12-09T13:58:49.301+11:00It just occured to me...... that people might not actually be taking me seriously when they read this. I thought I would take this opportunity to show you just how gosh-darn serious I am with photographic evidence from my trip to Vanuatu (even if I <span style="font-style: italic;">was</span> denied a visit to the Survivor Museum...)<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoPlo09Z4bvChM91A6SqXEmhB2iT2pxxdffmFVPTIrzdamLwaIiF9H51Dwy5sG7eiMtcW4RAq8tEihNDffnEaq-IXEhuZIEvL74GNXisHFxn4QvcWjTBNHBxHLhPVerN2SUi27M3t22Ttw/s1600-h/awesomeness+076.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoPlo09Z4bvChM91A6SqXEmhB2iT2pxxdffmFVPTIrzdamLwaIiF9H51Dwy5sG7eiMtcW4RAq8tEihNDffnEaq-IXEhuZIEvL74GNXisHFxn4QvcWjTBNHBxHLhPVerN2SUi27M3t22Ttw/s320/awesomeness+076.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413063733560163970" border="0" /></a>Every time we walked along this footbridge joining the two sections of the resort at nightfall, they lit the pretty fire-torch things.<br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtFqEVRGKh9WPmwyZaNaFYJqepkwKFok9QINoYF53NuP9HC2ATtZA2wPO1jK85XGMuJt9eqbEsSzwITMtY-9EZsFqcDEo7q1koyHgngaXTlQRmfH52k5c2peM-zJfnXUoTvS20mcIpy6e4/s1600-h/awesomeness+469.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtFqEVRGKh9WPmwyZaNaFYJqepkwKFok9QINoYF53NuP9HC2ATtZA2wPO1jK85XGMuJt9eqbEsSzwITMtY-9EZsFqcDEo7q1koyHgngaXTlQRmfH52k5c2peM-zJfnXUoTvS20mcIpy6e4/s400/awesomeness+469.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413063403074009090" border="0" /></a>... and naturally I couldn't help myself from muttering to myself "Once the vote is read, the decision is final; the person voted out will be asked to leave Tribal Council immediately..."<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV-6ryIw9mxPm0g8ajQNoj6i_7jWRJppD9KnBerkm9r01q1Yp9LWnUW0Yo-Dga2acuNXNUNhDtMJv63onIonWcB0N7Y4FbKNRnkgIMtNcHDHjDe2qpMa1TGSpEmtFeNnEAh0xoA75nV0m3/s1600-h/surviv1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV-6ryIw9mxPm0g8ajQNoj6i_7jWRJppD9KnBerkm9r01q1Yp9LWnUW0Yo-Dga2acuNXNUNhDtMJv63onIonWcB0N7Y4FbKNRnkgIMtNcHDHjDe2qpMa1TGSpEmtFeNnEAh0xoA75nV0m3/s400/surviv1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413065016550384930" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">See this nice singlet I am wearing? Can you read what it says down the side? No?<br /><br />Here, let me help you.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHKZ6CimkO7LUBt16LGYYFIbJWHVk6iyFfVhDnbXQ79sQVhAxfV9NIWQdR1q11ek_Z_roKokQqTDUhmfizQGGv7XnyRZfHB62bxFcs4AljsSbnpmGny_jJmCVjBlAb7qawQ4aYMRQ5vYgs/s1600-h/surviv2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHKZ6CimkO7LUBt16LGYYFIbJWHVk6iyFfVhDnbXQ79sQVhAxfV9NIWQdR1q11ek_Z_roKokQqTDUhmfizQGGv7XnyRZfHB62bxFcs4AljsSbnpmGny_jJmCVjBlAb7qawQ4aYMRQ5vYgs/s200/surviv2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413065317788747138" border="0" /></a><br />I think you get the picture now, folks.<br /></div>k a t i ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13855028397344633215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6215011690753701119.post-87256954983524848242009-12-09T13:31:00.005+11:002009-12-09T13:47:50.042+11:00Jungle Green Theme<div style="text-align: center;"><br />As I made my way towards the computer to post a blog about my deep-seated and unnatural love for all things Survivor (the new Samoa series is on! Could my mother and I <span style="font-style: italic;">be</span> more excited? I think not!) I noticed I had a new email from my lover boy, with the intriguing title "What to Wear". Naturally, I clicked on it in an excited manner and realized it wasn't for a snazzy date night later in the week, but in fact, guidelines from his company on what sort of smart casual attire one will be expected to wear when we fly off to Borneo in January. Obviously, I had no intention of pouring my bikini'd body into anything other than the occasional sarong (or an all over coating of Aloe Vera soothing gel...) but then a little something caught my eye on the evening of the 10th...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghOGrlx_ICFT0lpRT7ES8KPk3ZqnbesZv_QpANI_bMe15Bx3D-jbsU7SP8HUSQqzQ4foBUo1LGAsq87d3SUbBujEt4p65KRQxfzCvubUew6-vpvlzGi3vnUupndgX6kC6B_da8C-Aa-8n7/s1600-h/croppedwhattowear.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 165px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghOGrlx_ICFT0lpRT7ES8KPk3ZqnbesZv_QpANI_bMe15Bx3D-jbsU7SP8HUSQqzQ4foBUo1LGAsq87d3SUbBujEt4p65KRQxfzCvubUew6-vpvlzGi3vnUupndgX6kC6B_da8C-Aa-8n7/s400/croppedwhattowear.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413059806046918034" border="0" /></a>JUNGLE GREEN THEME! *does her happy dance*<br /><br />Honestly, if I weren't so addicted to shopping and had visions of finding a perfectly delightful floaty dress in shades of green, I'd whip out this oldy but goody and go the whole hog.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdqqQWle-LzjcKdgd9pLR-FovbU5Y2A6pzh-mo7byyEqp25tPa2422GtCWNlhIOfBTc0sp8MwoaGzyxdK-nvj2ec6nnmWNM1QmY8-xBHhpjCPtYrtZhPtL3RpNWzq22v6ZLH-gbYPvlqly/s1600-h/lesssurviving.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 219px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdqqQWle-LzjcKdgd9pLR-FovbU5Y2A6pzh-mo7byyEqp25tPa2422GtCWNlhIOfBTc0sp8MwoaGzyxdK-nvj2ec6nnmWNM1QmY8-xBHhpjCPtYrtZhPtL3RpNWzq22v6ZLH-gbYPvlqly/s400/lesssurviving.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413061622363680562" border="0" /></a><br />I wonder if face paint will be acceptable?<br /><br />(Note: I very nearly posted that whole photo. Very nearly. Then I realized I was all of 16 years old, and strongly resembled a chubby, pre-pubescent boy with hideous bowl haircut and crazy 4 chins. So, for your viewing pleasure, the edited version).<br /><br />Edited: It just occurred to me... we're off to Africa next January - THINK of all the potential I'll have for re-creating all manner of Survivor: Africa moments!<br /><br />Ahh... and Cam thought when we left Vanuatu unscathed by the Survivor: Vanuatu Museum it would all be over... *cackles evilly*<br /></div>k a t i ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13855028397344633215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6215011690753701119.post-36880553045355252362009-12-07T12:43:00.004+11:002009-12-07T13:45:08.252+11:00One year on...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigSUKA7pF8HhffirejpSLDtq6O3tsWZkXQow1ZzmoEVd-09_ZEDvoF8hD-ak9DkQdmGyVovBSgzBoD6lqcUbjJd0K4VKuV8s7AY-7wExwqPRSZrc0bXy0sbSHjiqOH677fikdheCMmyU2I/s1600-h/awesomeness+403.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigSUKA7pF8HhffirejpSLDtq6O3tsWZkXQow1ZzmoEVd-09_ZEDvoF8hD-ak9DkQdmGyVovBSgzBoD6lqcUbjJd0K4VKuV8s7AY-7wExwqPRSZrc0bXy0sbSHjiqOH677fikdheCMmyU2I/s400/awesomeness+403.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412319725313586226" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">...and I never thought I'd be where I am now.<br /><br />Today marks not only the birthday of my best girl, Sarah, but also a year since the day of strange events that led to me meeting the man of my dreams, Cameron.<br /><br />A year ago I posted a blog, but didn't know how, when or whether I should say anything regarding the events of the evening before, and I don't think the story of our meet has ever been shared online. It's been bought up many a drunken night, or during the inevitable 'And how did you two meet...?' conversation when meeting new friends/family, which is followed by a lot of "awwwws" from the ladies and guffaws from the men. There's also always a reference to fate or the subconscious...but enough of that, and more on the event itself.<br /><br />After consuming vast amounts of near-lethal Long Island Iced Tea at TGI Friday's, I made my way into the city with the vague notion of heading to a club a barman had suggested. Several kilometers later in my (aptly named) killer heels, I was rapidly losing interest and quickly gaining severe blisters. Not one to whip my shoes off and barefoot it through the grime and <s> possible STDS </s> broken glass of the city streets, I decided it was time to take myself home. As I waited for the traffic lights to change on the corner (in a non-hookerish way) so I could lurch off in the opposite direction, a certain someone stumbled their way from the McDonalds on said corner and came straight up to me, gesturing for me to accept the French fry he had on offer. I politely decline, sidestepping him and assuming he was mentally unhinged, a serial killer, or worse, one of those leechy drunken guys who think ones assets are their own to fondle and grope. As the little green man popped up and I was safe to cross the street, I made my way back towards the car my friends had driven me in to the city in, and noted I had a follower. A French fry wielding follower. Before long, he was chatting away merrily, and not having the confrontation skills to tell him to eff off, I was soon conversing back with him about the merits of the African soccer clubs and all manner of bizarre topics. As we chatted, I realized how cute he was, and how <span style="font-style: italic;">actually</span> nice he was - even in our inebriated state we were able to giggle and laugh and for being a complete stranger, I felt strangely safe with him. As we walked and walked, we talked and talked, and once we reached the car, it dawned on me <span style="font-style: italic;">I didn't hate him</span>. (Which, if you were an avid reader of my blog around this time last year, you'd know was a strange and foreign state for me to be in). My friends seemed unconcerned by him, and when he asked them for a lift home, he was granted access to the vehicle after a firm warning that if his hands - or any part of his body, for that matter - were to stray from his own lap to anywhere on my person, he would be swiftly and sharply dismembered with a screwdriver. As we neared his house, he said it was off the main road we were traveling along, and to drop him on the corner as his house was only two doors up. We did just that, and as we reached my own home and I was climbing out the car, there was a strange ringing coming from under the drivers seat. A quick check made us realize we all had our own phones, and the ringing one could only be the guy who we gave a lift to. I was far too tired to comprehend driving back and finding his house, so I said I'd take it and drive to his house in the morning, once I'd had a good sleep.<br /><br />The next day, I was feeling a little worse for wear. A long bath, 2 litres of orange juice and another nanna nap later, I set out in my car to find the owner of the phone. I'd tried going through the numbers in his call records, hoping to find 'Mum' or someone I could ring and ask for directions to drop his phone off, but the battery had died whilst I was doing my sleeping beauty routine. I had a Nokia charger, and had tried that option, but once I realized the phone was pin-locked with no hope of getting into it, I resigned myself to the fact I'd have to go find him.<br /><br />Only once I was driving in the general direction did I realize I had absolutely no idea where I was going, just a suburb name and a vague idea of 'two houses up' from a corner. Well, I drove and drove, texting my friends to see if they had any recollection of where we had driven, but alas. As I drove along the streets, I tried to recall our conversation from the night before to find any clues to his address, and remembered him saying he owned a 'hairdressers car'. I noticed a Mazda MX5 convertible out on the nature strip of a house, and after counting the number of houses up from the corner, it was more like 7, but I wondered if that could be it. After calling Sarah and asking her if I really did have the guts to walk up to a strangers door and ask if they knew a young guy living in a share house somewhere, I decided I had to find the courage somehow, as I knew how devastated I'd be if I lost my phone. I noticed a young guy in football shorts and a sombrero, and thought to myself that gay guys are always friendly, and might know where a hunky footballer like my stranger the night before would live. As I took several deep breaths, yanked down my skirt and fluffed up my hair, I approached young Mexican footballer boy, and as the words "DoyouknowaguycalledCameron?" stumbled out my mouth, who should walk out the front door but the one and same hottie from the evening before? I didn't know if he would remember me, so I blushed a bit and stammered something about leaving his phone in the car, and soon he'd invited me in for something cold to drink and a look around the house he shared with his mate. Not the typical 24 year olds flatshare at all, which soon became obvious when I found out he wasn't exactly 24 (In fact, it took weeks, as he pointedly refused to tell me and I resorted to rummaging through his wallet to find the date of birth on his drivers license and nearly having heart failure when I realized he was, in fact, older than most 'classic' Mustangs I know...). After a few slightly awkward moments of me not knowing what to say - or wondering if his beer goggles had slipped off since the night before and if he was mentally kicking himself for speaking to me to begin with - I said my goodbyes, and he casually put my number in the new iPhone he'd been out and bought that morning as he never thought he'd see his 'old' phone again - what little faith he had in me!<br /><br />As I drove off, my mind was full of thoughts, mostly along the lines of "mm! Zexy!" and "damnit, I doubt I'll ever see him again..." when who should call me, but "French Fry Guy"? I answered the phone after taking some more deep breaths, and he was all "Oh, I must have accidentally called you...". Before he could get another word out, I was teasing him about his subconscious way of leaving his phone in my car so I'd have to see him again, 'accidentally' calling me and so on, and said he may as well just ask me out. He didn't commit to anything, so again, I decided I wasn't going to be seeing much of him, unti later that day I had another phone call, to tell me he was on his way in my general direction and did I fancy a walk along the beach or a drink?<br /><br />I don't think I've ever gotten dressed so quickly in my life - all the while, on the phone to Sarah asking for help and suggestions and direction on what shoes and jewelery I should be wearing. I don't think I'd ever been so excited - but when I met him at the beach, I instantly relaxed. We just kind of clicked - he was easy to talk to, fun to tease, super intelligent and gosh darn handsome. We took a walk along the beach after a drink overlooking the water, and as we chatted and walked I began to realize he wasn't as young as I'd previously thought, but no amount of probing would get him to tell me. I also knew, when I asked him if he had any children, marriages or sexually transmitted diseases (hell, what's the point in pussy footing around? A girl's gotta know these things early) and he denied all of them, he wasn't quite telling the truth, but I hoped when he eventually told me which one he wasn't being honest about that it wasn't in the first or last category. (NB: just to clear it up - it wasn't those categories!)<br /><br />The next few days and weeks were a flurry of text messages and phone calls, and each and every day I grew to like him more and more, and the more time we spent together over the next few months made me fall in love with him hard and fast. There had been moments when I knew things were so different to any other relationship I'd had, but when we flew back from a week in Vanuatu, I knew for sure that it was special, and that he was the guy I wanted to (and still do!) spend every day with, talking and laughing and just <span style="font-style: italic;">being</span> with, for ever more.<br /><br />Every day since then I've fallen more and more in love with him; there's always something new I learn or a different side of him I see, something funny he says or a special look that melts my heart. He makes me laugh like no one else, squashes all my fears and makes me feel like the best possible version of myself around him. He's brought so many amazing things into my life, and shown me things I could never have dreamed of, he's shared some of the most incredible times of my life and also some of the crappy times. I can't wait for our adventures to keep coming through the years, and I hope there's plenty more of the good stuff.<br /><br />He holds my hand when I am happy, but most importantly of all, he holds my hand when I am sad. He's right there beside me when we share our dreams, and he's right there beside me when I need someone to lean on. I can't believe where this year has taken us, from our random meeting to the beautiful house we are making a home in together, our two horses and our many up-coing overseas trips, and I, for one, can't wait to see what the next few years will bring.<br /><br />Oh, and just FYI? I love you, Cam.</div>k a t i ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13855028397344633215noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6215011690753701119.post-58883654498733381622009-12-03T10:31:00.002+11:002009-12-03T10:52:38.583+11:00Best ofI read through <a href="http://bunnycakes.blogspot.com/">Pretty Random Thoughts</a> this morning, and saw her post from <a href="http://www.gwenbell.com/blog/2009/11/30/the-best-of-2009-blog-challenge.html">Best Of 2009</a> Challenge, which then led me to that site to see what it was all about. Basically, it's a post for each day of December for a 'best of' moment that happened during the year of 2009, and seeing as each day is pre-organized and I do love a bit of help in the 'hmmm....what to blog about today' department, I'm planning on doing this little challenge myself (without, technically, participating in the 'challenge').<br /><br />As I've missed the first two days, I'd better get cracking!<br /><br />First of all, my <span style="font-weight: bold;">Best Of: Trip 2009 -</span><br /><br />Easy, peasy. That has to be Vanuatu! Cam and I flew over in January after knowing each other a little under two months, and had simply the most incredible time. Every day was packed with fun, beautiful locations, amazing new experiences like snorkeling with tropical fish, standing in the flow of waterfalls, feeding read live sea turtles and riding horses through the mountains and in the ocean. More than anything, the 'little' things made the trip so fantastic - holding each other and laughing as the hot rain poured down on us in the pool, eating fresh coconuts as we walked, hand in hand, from the waterfalls in the storm, and, of course, getting sloshed on frozen daquiris in the pool.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Best Of: Restaurant Moment -</span><br /><br />This one is not so easy. The most 'memorable' was the day of my birthday; the night before Cam flew to America for 10 days. I say memorable because it's the first to come to mind, but it wasn't a happy night for me. The most incredible view would have to be at Sails, in Noosa (another favorite trip!) where we watched the sun set over the ocean in our own private oasis, or Brighton Sea Baths in September- the location of our first date! - which certainly signaled, for me, how far we'd come in our relationship. But I think the best would have to be the times I got to spend with my two favorite people, Sarah and Cam, and our many silly nights giggling and laughing out way into the evening at TGI Fridays, or Sunday morning breakfasts at our favorite cafe before planning the days activities.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Best Of: Article -</span><br /><br />Worrying, nothing comes to mind. Absolutely nothing. There's nothing I've referenced significantly, there's nothing that particularly blew my mind away enough to share around the world. There's several that spring to mind involving unbelievable tales of survival and horrifying tales of destruction during the Black Saturday fires. It was a time that felt like a national depression, everyone knew someone who was affected, injured or killed, and the days and weeks after were a sad and scary time for everyone in Victoria. Even now, as we drive and see the effects of the fire, the bridges that simply disappeared and the sweep of trees with blackened trunks, it doesn't quite seem real, but the feeling of worry for what this year will bring is still at the back of peoples minds.<br /><br /><br />Tomorrow... Best Of: Book.k a t i ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13855028397344633215noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6215011690753701119.post-61812292469942986722009-12-02T10:53:00.002+11:002009-12-02T11:02:00.207+11:00Excerpt from my Christmas ListCameron made the foolish mistake of asking for an in depth installment of my current Christmas List, but only managed to peruse it once he made it home from his meeting. As he sat himself down with his iPhone, I could hear much laughter and derisive snorting, and I calmly asked him what was so amusing. He asked me to read the second item as listed under "Girly Stuff":<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">- Pleasure State lingerie - Size: (</span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">insert hideously large size here</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">) bra (do NOT mention this to ANYONE. It is a genetic fault I have the shoulders and back size of an Asian swimmer on steroids, and if you speak of this size to ANY sales person, they will automatically assume I am a large, beached form of aquatic mammalia unless you stipulate otherwise) and size <span style="font-style: italic;">(insert much, much smaller size here, but which would still look ginormous to American viewers on their strange 0-2 size scale)</span> knickers.</span><br /><br />He then went on to ask me how he was going to manage to get item 3 on the 'Horsey Stuff' section -<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">- 2 X White saddle blankets, Mr Darcy & Altibo Bay embroidered on left side in royal blue with gold binding</span> -<br /><br />to which I replied I had taken the liberty of emailing a local embroidery firm with my details and request and they would shortly be getting back to him with regards to a quote.<br /><br />I don't think he realized how serious this Christmas thing is to me.k a t i ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13855028397344633215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6215011690753701119.post-52907944794724499262009-11-30T21:23:00.002+11:002009-11-30T21:29:03.713+11:00At Last.......NaBloPoMo is over. I wouldn't say I'd enjoyed the past month; in fact the opposite. It's really shown me how little I like blogging when every post has to be edited and deleted and re-edited again so as not to piss off or provoke any sort of outburst from anyone who happens to read it, which, these days, is a list of ex boyfriends and friends and family of the current one. I feel completely stifled, so much so I've been considering starting a private blog and simply deleting this one once and for all, but there'll still be people trying to find the new one. Censorship sucks. I started this blog having no one but randoms read it, and those were the days I miss - times when I could actually blog about things in my life without fear of upsetting someone or worry what distorted things I would hear back through the grapevine. I miss using my words to make me feel better, I miss having fun with what I wrote, and I miss being me. So it's goodbye NaBloPoMo, and quite probably, goodbye Made in Melbourne. And maybe, just maybe, hello to a new and uncensored blog. Still, I did it, and even though some nights were more of a chore than others, I'm glad I committed to something and saw it through, even though my creative juices haven't exactly been a-flowing.k a t i ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13855028397344633215noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6215011690753701119.post-68020998151903025582009-11-30T10:49:00.002+11:002009-11-30T10:57:50.026+11:00It Starts With.UsI received an email this morning from Twenty Something Bloggers, a group I belong to. I usually save those emails for later, but something made me open it up today. And I'm glad I did.<br /><br />20SB are promoting a company they are working with, named <a href="http://itstartswith.us/index.html">It Starts With.Us</a> and sent me a letter outlining what sort of things they do - and I was blown away. Basically, It Starts With.Us are promoting the idea that 'each and every one of us can change the world by touching the lives of people around us', otherwise known as 'decreasing worldsuck'. I love that - 'worldsuck'. Reading through their blog and missions, it actually sounds like a great idea with minimal pressure - it's about doing something (like suggestions they outline in their forums etc) for someone else that you may already be doing, such as helping prepare a meal for someone who's experiencing ill health, or just produced a small human being, and so on and so forth - basic, kind ideas that promote good karma, and as stated on their home page - when we hear more about the positive things others are doing, we become more aware of the opportunities we have to make a difference for the people in our own lives.<br /><br />Simple but brilliant, no? The world always needs more love, and love breeds goods things (and not just the small human beings). I've signed up immediately, after moments before sending the gorgeous Boo an unhappy email regarding the state of some people in my life right now. I figure this is my way of bringing back a little happiness, and if I can do that to someone elses life, I might feel better about my own.<br /><br />Take some time, peruse the <a href="http://itstartswith.us/index.html">website</a> and<a href="http://www.itstartswith.us/blog/"> blog</a>, and think about it. It sure is a feel good factor knowing those emails will be arriving in my inbox giving me ideas about being a better person, and making the world a little better for someone else via an action most would take for granted.k a t i ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13855028397344633215noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6215011690753701119.post-7359953070519358012009-11-29T21:40:00.003+11:002009-11-29T21:52:04.973+11:00Baking<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhminbOEqPqyUrinBTP9paIvmh47guuyU6wW8d81UmbFUuGOQKv_AIOkV7gTT9z95H8xUAXlWLZDup8yYlEXfABTcSyVtRrmFopWZGExI4EQa1YdesYfTEvOP0yzsGF2lQch84NpA8PmX3l/s1600/cookies.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhminbOEqPqyUrinBTP9paIvmh47guuyU6wW8d81UmbFUuGOQKv_AIOkV7gTT9z95H8xUAXlWLZDup8yYlEXfABTcSyVtRrmFopWZGExI4EQa1YdesYfTEvOP0yzsGF2lQch84NpA8PmX3l/s400/cookies.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409476406950258642" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">The few remaining edible cookies...</span><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Every Sunday, Cam starts off our day of laziness by doing a run to get the paper (my favorite day of the week, as it has not only the Wedding section, but Style Police AND my horoscope!) and usually eggs and bread so I can whip up our weekend tradition - scrambled eggs. It's got to be said, I make a mean brekkie, and like that I can add it to the list of things I can actually achieve without decimating too badly. After devouring noms and the paper (not literally, the latter), the inevitable question of "What do you wanna do today?" comes up, usually followed by "Dunno...what do <span style="font-style: italic;">you</span> wanna do?"<br /><br />This morning was no different. After tossing around some ideas about wandering around Chapel Street, meeting the gang for dinner or getting a 'real' coffee somewhere (unlike my freshly brewed 'fake' coffee, obviiously) we kind of settled for a day of doing nothing, really, but getting a lot done. One of those days where we don't actually go anywhere or do anything much, but tick off the chores and tasks that have been on the to do list for a while. Today that meant hanging the prints I had made up and framed on Wednesday, especially for the kitchen (red and white, naturally!) and moving the dryer, and for me, baking. I made an enormous batch of gingerbread men after being inspired by the adorable little GB men Cam bought back with him from the paper run (I do absolutely heart Gingerbread men, and it makes a difference from the red licorice I normally beg him to buy!) an after discarding about 3/4 due to burning, rising and general creepiness issues, I had about 10 left over to work with. I literally threw them in the oven for a 5 minutes and whipped them back out so they wouldn't catch fire and burn like the others seemed to. Although I was desperate for them to look professionally delicious (I had vague ideas for making them for the big family Christmas bash coming up), alas, they didn't turn out as well as expected. Nor did the batch of brownies I slaved over, put in the oven then realized I'd forgotten to add the 3 eggs the recipe stipulated. They've been in the oven for about an hour, the damn things just wont dry out. Maybe I should have left the eggs out, after all.<br /><br />After my cookie/brownie dreams were dashed, I headed off to pay a visit to the horses, and ended up riding Darcy for about an hour, until I came home to the most delicious roast chicken Cam had slaved over whilst I was gone. Tonight we were going to take the dogs for a walk around the neighborhood to see all the Christmas lights (last night was the official 'opening' for the light shows) but it's absolutely pouring with rain, so while I wait for the brownies to cook (when? WHEN will that be?!) we're watching Monster Vs Aliens. Very cute!<br /><br />Hope you've all had a great weekend!<br /></div>k a t i ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13855028397344633215noreply@blogger.com0