OH YES I LIIIIVE! O. Hai. Yes, I have been back since Sunday. Yes, it is Thursday. But unfortunately for your good selves (and even more unfortunately for me) I was felled, FELLED I tell you, by gastro not 12 hours after I returned triumphant to Melbourne. No, not swine flu. Nothing so important to the government. Just run of the mill, regular old debilitating gastroenteritis. The last few days have been a bit of a blur. Nobody wants to hear the details of gastro (the pain! the whimpering! the BUCKET!) so I will spare you. The worst part though, was the first night, where I was up every half an hour and my actions blended into some sort of ghastly dream sequence and I would wake from my sweaty doze convinced this was the last time. It’s the last time! Thank god! My dream said so! Let me tell you, it was NEVER the last time. NEVER. Days later, I thought to ask Mr. T where he was during this time; turns out he was sleeping on the couch. Under a towel. Yes, a towel. He would not approach me nor the spare blankets during this time and I DON’T BLAME HIM. Anyway, I feel much better now (yes, it’s Thursday and I have lost an entire week) but as a result I have basically no memories of my week away, wiped out as they currently are by The Horror. Give me time to get actually well and I’ll post some photos up. OF THE TRIP. I have no photos of the last four days and you should thank me.
And I did actually get tested for swine flu (well I went to the doctor and he stuck a thermometer in my ear) and I am 100% swine-free. Which I am glad about, because I sat next to a very nice English couple on my connecting flight home from Singapore and I would hate to ruin their holiday. So. What have you been up to while I’ve been gone?
I know, right? I’m going to just post here like I didn’t just disappear for ages. And really I’m only here to say I’m going away for a week. WHAT SORT OF A BLOG IS THIS I DEMAND A REFUND. Clearly not all parties are living up to their ends of the bargain here, if you know what I mean. And I think you do. Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yes, I’m going away for a week, overseas for work. To a WAR ZONE. OK, maybe not the actual war zone itself, but definitely a country on the No Travel list. It’ll be fine, of course. The worst of it is my arm really hurts from the vaccinations. My doctor was positively gleeful stabbing those things in. “Work’s paying for this, you say? Get inoculated for this as well! And this too! Just in case!” The things I am protected from do not include swine flu, bird flu or any other sort of flu; so of course I shall be seated adjacent to the most coughing, hacking person on the plane. Oh, and to keep the coughers at bay I bought a fake travel engagement ring from ebay. It was listed as a “child’s ring”. Oh yes. Apparently my ring finger is similar to that of “a child 3-4 years old”. Now, that CAN’T be right. I am short, true, but my fingers are not particularly small. I would say they are positively stubby, in fact. And yet I am wearing a fake gold ring with a fake emerald in it like some sort of fake 4 year old. Oh well. At least if I lose it down the drain I can throw a tantrum.
Brown Dog Update: He’s fine. He wants you to know that he’s hungry and would like some ice cream.
Wedding Update: Tried on dresses. Eh. Not feeling it. Mr T ordered a titanium wedding ring and isn’t overly impressed, so will return it. Date is set; venue is booked; photographer is booked. Please note my mum did the entire last bit, while all I did was to trip over multiple bridal petticoats and nearly garotte myself with the lace overlay.
Oh, and Photo Update: Don’t you love it when what you’re cooking turns out just like the picture?
Mr T’s brunch masterpiece (some sort of fluffy apple pancake) (I typed pantcake first) (not as tasty)
The original, from delicious magazine. OK admittedly they have a nicer cast iron frypan than me, and a much more stylish kitchen, but COME ON. Close.
Cloudstreet, Tim Winton
The Beatles, One. I am having some sort of sixties flashback… see below.
The Hollies videos on YouTube. This was one of the bands I listened to while studying when I was 17, and I know the lyrics on some sort of visceral level. Listening to them also reminds me vaguely of calculus.
Swoop! Winter swoop! Tomato swoop with cheese on toast; leek and potato swoop; pumpkin swoop. I sing the praises of swoop.
Tights. I need more tights. Also scarves. I need many, many more scarves.
The girl at the wedding dress shop whose eyes just about bugged out of her head when she realised the wedding was five months away. SO SOON? Um, yes. Also, STOP showing me $3,000 dresses. Not going to happen.