Of late, I have been sporting a fringe. Straight down, straight across, and hanging anywhere from just above my eyebrows to poking me in the eye, depending on whether I'd trimmed it lately.
"I'd trimmed it." These are the fateful words which trigger our sad tale. Being a penny-pincher right now, I refuse to go to a hairdresser just to pay them to make three broad snips along my eyebrows. I have been trimming my own fringe, and most of the time, doing an ok job. But once, just once, my hairdressing skills clearly absented me. It was a dark day on which I decided to employ creativity into my shearing routine.
I'd been feeling bored with my hair. I'd been feeling confident about my snipping skills. I'd been watching far too many back episodes of 'Love My Way'. And so, when I picked up the scissors, I was certain I had the skills to emulate Claudia Karvan's fringe.
I did not.
Do you know how difficult it is to swallow your pride, call around hairdressers, explain your 'fringe emergency', and hope they can fix it for a reasonable budget price? It's not easy, I can assure you. I was so glad I went to Nick's hairdresser. There a lovely European lady reassured me that everyone cuts their own hair at some point in their lives (sure, but they're normally about five years old), and that I actually hadn't done too bad a job of it. She talked me through all my (two) options, advised what she thought was the best, and patiently snipped away, explaining all the time what she was doing and why.
When she stepped back (after a free blow dry!), I was amazed. My mission had been achieved. I had a choppy asymmetrical fringe, and wispy layers around my face. Sadly, I hadn't become a gorgeous, respected actress (a la Claudia) or a kooky, damaged yet talented artist ( a la Frankie, Claudia's LMW character), but I did have some very funky hair which I REALLY liked.
And all it cost me was $33, a night of panic, and a chunk of self-respect.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Insufferable intolerance
As a child, I remember hearing of the most horrible allergy I could imagine; a friend of mine could not eat chocolate! At eleven, I was aghast. Not eat chocolate? Why bother living? At twenty-five, my feelings on the matter have, if anything, probably intensified.
When I returned to France having spent six weeks travelling other parts of Europe, I experienced stomach pains I hadn't suffered since I was last in Paris. Trying to pinpoint what could be wrong (I mean, I know I'd always insisted I wasn't interested in Paris, but surely I couldn't be allergic to it???), I realised that something had been added to my diet when I joined my friend Lisa in her second home; cheese feasts.
Living in France, Lisa had discovered the joy that is French cheese, and had developed somewhat of an addiction. In fact, she suffered severe cheese withdrawals as we travelled further away from French fromage. Upon return to Paris, we enjoyed a picnic on the Champs du Mars, sampling saucisson, wine and a variety of delicious cheeses. Since her return to Melbourne, Lisa and I generally meet over a newly discovered cheese, in the hope it may live up to the lofty heights of its French cousin. I'm coming to suspect that the feeling in my stomach is not disappointment, but perhaps something far more sinister.
Lactose intolerance is a fairly common development as humans age. It occurs when the body stops producing lactase, the enzyme which breaks down lactose (milk sugars). In fact, most mammals stop producing lactase once they are weaned, making humans quite unique in the prolonged dairy consumption. However, societies with a low dairy consumption, such as Asian or Aboriginal communities, have a greater tendency towards lactose intolerance. In Caucasians or those of European descent, lactose intolerance occurs in about 5% of people.
Now I have a confession to make. I am a dairy tart. I get around in the dairy section of the supermarket; my beloved chocolate, yoghurt, cheese, icecream, milk, sour cream, and what's a cake without a dollop of cream? I love dairy. So this niggling thought has been ignored for a long time. But the stomach pain after each dairy binge is a little too coincidental.
The easiest way to test for lactose intolerance is to cut out all dairy products from the diet for a few weeks, and then slowly reintroduce items to establish which cause the biggest problems. With best intentions, I poured soy milk onto my Vita Brits and began my first lactose free day.
I'd fallen off the wagon by recess. I reasoned with myself that I didn't get stomach pain after yoghurt, so maybe the bacteria in it was countering the lactose? At lunchtime, I just HAD to eat the rest of that Mars Bar. And when we went out for pizza, well it would have been unfair of me to deny Nick a pizza with cheese. And that one with mascarpone, fetta and mozzarella did look good...
Today I started again. Fruit for breakfast. I discovered that one of my tea blends was perfectly complemented by soy milk. Then a bagel topped with... um... does goat's cheese contain lactose? After a tantrum at the realisation that I couldn't even have jam and butter (have to buy some Nuttelex), I decided to throw today's race, and ate the chevre goat cheese (yum). Tomorrow. Tomorrow I'll cut out dairy. But I can't help wondering if such painful self-denial will really be worth it...
When I returned to France having spent six weeks travelling other parts of Europe, I experienced stomach pains I hadn't suffered since I was last in Paris. Trying to pinpoint what could be wrong (I mean, I know I'd always insisted I wasn't interested in Paris, but surely I couldn't be allergic to it???), I realised that something had been added to my diet when I joined my friend Lisa in her second home; cheese feasts.
Living in France, Lisa had discovered the joy that is French cheese, and had developed somewhat of an addiction. In fact, she suffered severe cheese withdrawals as we travelled further away from French fromage. Upon return to Paris, we enjoyed a picnic on the Champs du Mars, sampling saucisson, wine and a variety of delicious cheeses. Since her return to Melbourne, Lisa and I generally meet over a newly discovered cheese, in the hope it may live up to the lofty heights of its French cousin. I'm coming to suspect that the feeling in my stomach is not disappointment, but perhaps something far more sinister.
Lactose intolerance is a fairly common development as humans age. It occurs when the body stops producing lactase, the enzyme which breaks down lactose (milk sugars). In fact, most mammals stop producing lactase once they are weaned, making humans quite unique in the prolonged dairy consumption. However, societies with a low dairy consumption, such as Asian or Aboriginal communities, have a greater tendency towards lactose intolerance. In Caucasians or those of European descent, lactose intolerance occurs in about 5% of people.
Now I have a confession to make. I am a dairy tart. I get around in the dairy section of the supermarket; my beloved chocolate, yoghurt, cheese, icecream, milk, sour cream, and what's a cake without a dollop of cream? I love dairy. So this niggling thought has been ignored for a long time. But the stomach pain after each dairy binge is a little too coincidental.
The easiest way to test for lactose intolerance is to cut out all dairy products from the diet for a few weeks, and then slowly reintroduce items to establish which cause the biggest problems. With best intentions, I poured soy milk onto my Vita Brits and began my first lactose free day.
I'd fallen off the wagon by recess. I reasoned with myself that I didn't get stomach pain after yoghurt, so maybe the bacteria in it was countering the lactose? At lunchtime, I just HAD to eat the rest of that Mars Bar. And when we went out for pizza, well it would have been unfair of me to deny Nick a pizza with cheese. And that one with mascarpone, fetta and mozzarella did look good...
Today I started again. Fruit for breakfast. I discovered that one of my tea blends was perfectly complemented by soy milk. Then a bagel topped with... um... does goat's cheese contain lactose? After a tantrum at the realisation that I couldn't even have jam and butter (have to buy some Nuttelex), I decided to throw today's race, and ate the chevre goat cheese (yum). Tomorrow. Tomorrow I'll cut out dairy. But I can't help wondering if such painful self-denial will really be worth it...
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Soft and clean and excitingly new
Recently, I had a conversation with my osteopath about fabric softener. OK, let's get a few things clear: yes, I have my own osteopath. His name is Aaron, and he is fabulous; he fixes my back, my neck, my knees, my wrists, my feet, my hips (apparently I'm his only patient who needs a full body adjustment EVERY SESSION). And no, I am not 70. But when I AM 70, my back will be feeling pretty good, thanks.
I don't exactly know how the fabric softener thing came up, but for some weird reason, washing detergent does seem to be something people randomly discuss. I know that one of my friends uses special detergent for her black clothes, and I know that another is allergic to most brands, except the one he now uses. Some of this I know from random conversation, some because which brand detergent you use is frequently a question on those 'get to know you' quiz emails. (By the way, I use an environmentally friendly liquid detergent, and the cheapest brand fabric softener available that is apple scented).
So yeah, we had a chat about fabric softener, and how good it makes towels feel. But more importantly, we got very excited by fabric softener because it was an adult discovery for both of us. Our parents hadn't used fabric softener when we were kids, and there was this pure thrill when we made the choice to create our own washing ritual.
There are a number of things I have discovered as an adult. Tea. Wine (and I'm getting snobbier about this by the day). That deli meat can be so much better than what they sell at Coles. Anchovies (but only the expensive ones). Pickles. INTERESTING Vegetarian food. Tofu. Chilli. Real pizza. Good Asian food (especially moving past White Person dishes, like Lemon Chicken). Even as a kid I was fussy about chocolate, but now I have very expensive taste (quality over quantity). Mustard. Hydroponic tomatoes. Expensive ice-cream (and NEVER Neapolitan).
It's funny that most things on this list are food; I am a LITTLE food focused. As I've gotten older, I've realized that we really didn't have much money when I was young. It's funny, you don't notice when you're little. But I know my parents worked really hard to look after us, and keep us happy, safe and fed. But it meant there wasn't any money for luxuries. Now I'm lucky enough to make my own choices, and spend a little more on some things, and developing my tastes in new directions not available to me as a child.
Cheese is a perfect example of this. When I was young, we bought processed, pre-sliced cheddar. I always thought the individually wrapped cheddar slices were the absolute height of luxury. Occasionally I would try a bit of brie or Camembert at an adult party, and I thought Coon was pretty good too. Now I only buy individually wrapped slices if I am looking for a childhood flashback (it normally needs to be served on saladas, with honey or vegemite). My regular cheese is a colby or a vintage cheddar (and NEVER Coon), and I regularly have a 'fancy' cheese in my fridge, but it's rarely brie. I've come to love blue cheeses (thanks to Sai for coaxing me towards Roquefort, and Lisa for living in Paris and giving me the chance to try the AMAZING range of French cheese), and I know that a soft cheese is better when it's runny. I love goat cheese, sheep cheese, even buffalo cheese. And all this from a kid who used to dream of having a Cheese Stick in her lunch box...
I don't exactly know how the fabric softener thing came up, but for some weird reason, washing detergent does seem to be something people randomly discuss. I know that one of my friends uses special detergent for her black clothes, and I know that another is allergic to most brands, except the one he now uses. Some of this I know from random conversation, some because which brand detergent you use is frequently a question on those 'get to know you' quiz emails. (By the way, I use an environmentally friendly liquid detergent, and the cheapest brand fabric softener available that is apple scented).
So yeah, we had a chat about fabric softener, and how good it makes towels feel. But more importantly, we got very excited by fabric softener because it was an adult discovery for both of us. Our parents hadn't used fabric softener when we were kids, and there was this pure thrill when we made the choice to create our own washing ritual.
There are a number of things I have discovered as an adult. Tea. Wine (and I'm getting snobbier about this by the day). That deli meat can be so much better than what they sell at Coles. Anchovies (but only the expensive ones). Pickles. INTERESTING Vegetarian food. Tofu. Chilli. Real pizza. Good Asian food (especially moving past White Person dishes, like Lemon Chicken). Even as a kid I was fussy about chocolate, but now I have very expensive taste (quality over quantity). Mustard. Hydroponic tomatoes. Expensive ice-cream (and NEVER Neapolitan).
It's funny that most things on this list are food; I am a LITTLE food focused. As I've gotten older, I've realized that we really didn't have much money when I was young. It's funny, you don't notice when you're little. But I know my parents worked really hard to look after us, and keep us happy, safe and fed. But it meant there wasn't any money for luxuries. Now I'm lucky enough to make my own choices, and spend a little more on some things, and developing my tastes in new directions not available to me as a child.
Cheese is a perfect example of this. When I was young, we bought processed, pre-sliced cheddar. I always thought the individually wrapped cheddar slices were the absolute height of luxury. Occasionally I would try a bit of brie or Camembert at an adult party, and I thought Coon was pretty good too. Now I only buy individually wrapped slices if I am looking for a childhood flashback (it normally needs to be served on saladas, with honey or vegemite). My regular cheese is a colby or a vintage cheddar (and NEVER Coon), and I regularly have a 'fancy' cheese in my fridge, but it's rarely brie. I've come to love blue cheeses (thanks to Sai for coaxing me towards Roquefort, and Lisa for living in Paris and giving me the chance to try the AMAZING range of French cheese), and I know that a soft cheese is better when it's runny. I love goat cheese, sheep cheese, even buffalo cheese. And all this from a kid who used to dream of having a Cheese Stick in her lunch box...
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Crazy little thing called life
Ok, since my last 'woe is me' post, things have been quite crazy. I sent out a lot of job applications, including around ten for emergency or short term teaching. From that, I was offered three short teaching jobs, and four emergency teaching jobs. I went to Queensland for my cousin's eighteenth, and this is when things start to go loopy.
FIRST, I was offered a longish short term contract (around ten weeks). I accepted, and quit my Old Job. Simple? Nuh-uh.
THEN My Old Boss rang me to offer me a stable wage, if I returned to Old Job. I wavered. I considered. I called New Job advising I was unsure. I decided to stick with New Job.
NEXT my Old Boss called again, offering me more money to return to Old Job. I refused.
FINALLY on my first day of New Job, Old Boss calls to tell me that the staff member who had to pick up the (minimal, considering I had no work) slack from me leaving had quit, and Old Boss was desperate. So now I work New Job nine days a fortnight, Old Job one day a fortnight, and will probably return to Old Job for a term or so once New Job is finished. PHEW.
Meanwhile, my brief sojourn in Queensland was lovely. I think I should get me a winter home; it is SO nice to be able to sit on the beach, in 27 degree heat, in the middle of winter. Lovely, even though it is eerily wrong. Spent a few days exploring Brisbane, and a few days sitting on the beaches of Sunshine Coast and hanging out with my newly legal cousin.
I've forgotten the excitement of being 18. I'd also forgotten the energy you have when you're 18. My cousin turned 18 on the Tuesday, and went out Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights. I was invited Friday and Saturday, but backed out Friday due to a massive headache. Saturday I drank and danced at the official birthday party (held at a bowls club, SUCH CHEAP DRINKS!), but felt far too old and fearful of hangovers to go out clubbing afterwards.
The surprise point for me was my cousin's freshness on Saturday morning. Having been out the previous two nights, she called me at around nine am and was appalled to learn that we had gone to the beach without her. "Why didn't you invite me?" she demanded. "I thought you'd be sleeping, or hung over!" Ah, yes. Partying in the time of BHO- Before Hang Overs. I remember those days... Now I'm too tired to even get drunk! *sigh*
FIRST, I was offered a longish short term contract (around ten weeks). I accepted, and quit my Old Job. Simple? Nuh-uh.
THEN My Old Boss rang me to offer me a stable wage, if I returned to Old Job. I wavered. I considered. I called New Job advising I was unsure. I decided to stick with New Job.
NEXT my Old Boss called again, offering me more money to return to Old Job. I refused.
FINALLY on my first day of New Job, Old Boss calls to tell me that the staff member who had to pick up the (minimal, considering I had no work) slack from me leaving had quit, and Old Boss was desperate. So now I work New Job nine days a fortnight, Old Job one day a fortnight, and will probably return to Old Job for a term or so once New Job is finished. PHEW.
Meanwhile, my brief sojourn in Queensland was lovely. I think I should get me a winter home; it is SO nice to be able to sit on the beach, in 27 degree heat, in the middle of winter. Lovely, even though it is eerily wrong. Spent a few days exploring Brisbane, and a few days sitting on the beaches of Sunshine Coast and hanging out with my newly legal cousin.
I've forgotten the excitement of being 18. I'd also forgotten the energy you have when you're 18. My cousin turned 18 on the Tuesday, and went out Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights. I was invited Friday and Saturday, but backed out Friday due to a massive headache. Saturday I drank and danced at the official birthday party (held at a bowls club, SUCH CHEAP DRINKS!), but felt far too old and fearful of hangovers to go out clubbing afterwards.
The surprise point for me was my cousin's freshness on Saturday morning. Having been out the previous two nights, she called me at around nine am and was appalled to learn that we had gone to the beach without her. "Why didn't you invite me?" she demanded. "I thought you'd be sleeping, or hung over!" Ah, yes. Partying in the time of BHO- Before Hang Overs. I remember those days... Now I'm too tired to even get drunk! *sigh*
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Job Instability is Contagious
I have been stressing out about my job situation for weeks. Before I went to Europe (oh, care-free days of holidaying), I had been under the impression that I had a stable job back home. Upon my return, I discovered the company had been sold, and that the two other staff in Melbourne (including a new recruit) were now on a salary, rather than casual wages like myself. I, however, was to remain casual, which didn't worry me too much at first, as I'd been casual before and making ample amounts in that fashion.
Things started to seem shakier when I was told our company cars were being sold (I LOVE my car) and our props downsized (and no longer anywhere NEAR as cool as they used to be). Soon I realised there wasn't as much work as before, and I started to stress about my finances (a common preoccupation for me, I must admit. I like security).
I was a bit resentful of the New Girl, who had a salary right from the start of her job, but it training her I got to know her, and she's great. We chatted heaps about the changes in the company, and our uncertainty about the security of our jobs, and our other career options. I told her I was considering going back to classroom teaching next year, and when I started looking for work last week, she was really supportive and positive.
I've now gotten one post as an emergency teacher, and applied for a stack more. This is work that could complement my current casual schedule. But I've also applied for full time teaching work for later in the year and next year, and an awesome education position at the RSPCA, which I would snap up if offered. So I'm definitely looking outside of The Company, because they simply can't offer me security.
My Boss has been promising for weeks to call and discuss 'my future with The Company'. That call FINALLY came today, and she announced that, while she couldn't offer me permanency right now (!), she wanted me to stay. In fact, as an indication of how much she loves me, she offered the information that she had to get rid of a full timer. New Girl is the Sacrificial Lamb. The new ownership wants one full timer and one casual in Melbs, and I have been 'selected' as I am soooo reliable (yeah, and dumb enough to stay on a casual wage, which New Girl would be unable to do...).
So here's my quandary. I told The Boss that I have applied for supplementary casual work, and was also looking into full time teaching next year. I didn't tell her I was considering full time work this year. If I had, would she have kept New Girl on staff? Am I costing someone a job? And should I tell New Girl (soon to be Old Girl) that the axe is dropping? I know she'll be called tonight, but I feel so bad *knowing* and not being able to affect the result...
Things started to seem shakier when I was told our company cars were being sold (I LOVE my car) and our props downsized (and no longer anywhere NEAR as cool as they used to be). Soon I realised there wasn't as much work as before, and I started to stress about my finances (a common preoccupation for me, I must admit. I like security).
I was a bit resentful of the New Girl, who had a salary right from the start of her job, but it training her I got to know her, and she's great. We chatted heaps about the changes in the company, and our uncertainty about the security of our jobs, and our other career options. I told her I was considering going back to classroom teaching next year, and when I started looking for work last week, she was really supportive and positive.
I've now gotten one post as an emergency teacher, and applied for a stack more. This is work that could complement my current casual schedule. But I've also applied for full time teaching work for later in the year and next year, and an awesome education position at the RSPCA, which I would snap up if offered. So I'm definitely looking outside of The Company, because they simply can't offer me security.
My Boss has been promising for weeks to call and discuss 'my future with The Company'. That call FINALLY came today, and she announced that, while she couldn't offer me permanency right now (!), she wanted me to stay. In fact, as an indication of how much she loves me, she offered the information that she had to get rid of a full timer. New Girl is the Sacrificial Lamb. The new ownership wants one full timer and one casual in Melbs, and I have been 'selected' as I am soooo reliable (yeah, and dumb enough to stay on a casual wage, which New Girl would be unable to do...).
So here's my quandary. I told The Boss that I have applied for supplementary casual work, and was also looking into full time teaching next year. I didn't tell her I was considering full time work this year. If I had, would she have kept New Girl on staff? Am I costing someone a job? And should I tell New Girl (soon to be Old Girl) that the axe is dropping? I know she'll be called tonight, but I feel so bad *knowing* and not being able to affect the result...
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