Potplant controversy abounds in Rainford Street...

I was out on a mission to get some emergency lamb after our first attempt at sous vide went wrong... and imagine my excitement when seeing a bunch of notes stuck up in a lane way that seemed to relate to some sort of pot plant controversy... The lane way runs behind Bird Cow Fish and Pizza e Birra, for those of you familiar with Rainford. On closer inspection, this seems to be the offensive pot plant worthy of someone REPEATEDLY complaining to council that local regulations are being breached. The owners of the property were paid a visit by two rangers (as I was informed by one of the letters stuck up on the wall), but protest rather articulately, that as landscape gardeners, they are just trying to pretty up their bit of space and do something nice for the peeps of Surry Hills.

This is the owners letter to the mayor. It's quite nicely written, and makes it's point...Also stuck to the pot is a note directed at the woman who is so offended by the hideous sight of some nature in a lane way... suggesting she may have some more sinister motive. Intrigue and mystery abound!

Potplants part II

The residents of Rainford St and of Surry Hills have weighed into the debate. This is my favourite response, so far. I'm hoping the scandal is far from over. It's not really the response I love, but the "really?" reply that's written in. Classic. It's short, it's scathing and anyone that makes a point via pointing out others bad punctuation, amuses me infinitely.

Potplants part III... the residents weigh in

I'm thrilled that the residents of Rainford Street have shared their thoughts with notes made in paint and pink highlighter, as well as the normal means.

Leunig was always guaranteed to have some thoughts on a situation like this, and has been well deployed. It's an original out of the newspaper, so someone has been saving it for an occasion such as this...

I'm sure this isn't the woman, but respect that someone is pretending to be her... And that people saw fit to insult her on her letter.

As you can see - don't mess with the residents of Rainford St. They are a bad ass bunch.

Post apocalypse Sydney.

I'm sure everyone has heard about the dust storm in Sydney today - it really was unbelievable. We woke up bright orange light coming through the windows at about 6 o'clock. I got up and took this picture - which doesn't even do it justice. It was so bright it was almost fluorescent. The light went from red to orange to yellow through the morning. The wind was totally fierce, and there was red dust on everything. It was so bizarre - it really felt like some sort of post apocalyptic event. Heaps of people walking around with masks on - I don't blame them - breathing was actually quite hard, and pollution levels were 1500 times higher than normal. And it's just surreal walking in and around the city with this bright haze everywhere. Everyone is saying it's a once in a lifetime event, and the papers and TV stations are LOVING it. ABC just had someone on from "Dust Watch" at Griffith University. Bet this is the most exciting day of his life. Shine while you can my friend... The view from someones house which has a bit of a better view than ours...

NYT wedding section

Since our wedding I've become a bit of a wedding junkie, and a good place to get my fix every week is the NYT wedding section. I LOVE it. And they usually profile the most amazing, romantic, lovely stories that regularly reduce me to tears. I can't believe this stuff actually happens to people. This one is especially lovely, and worthy of a read. I dare you to not tear up.
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/09/13/fashion/weddings/13vows.html?_r=1&ref=weddings

Crab dinner.

The parents and me last night out for crab. That claw was the size of my hand - that's a dinner plate - not a side plate. It was white pepper crab, the signature dish of the place we went and totally nommy. I abandoned all utensils, and just ate everything with my hands - rice, tofu, veg. The waiter asked me if I wanted a fork, and I was all "no - why??" Ah ha ha.

We had a quick drink at a very cool bar afterwards. I had an earl grey and mandarin sour, and it was REALLY good. That foam on top wasn't creamy at all and totally tasted like earl grey. Jamie and I have earl grey tea every night, so it totally reminded me of him. I've been missing the hubby this week, and while it's been fun to see the pezzers, I can't wait to be back home and hanging with him.

Ma and Pa...

Sucker fish!!

So today we went to the fishy foot spa!! It was hil-ar-ious. All very clean and hygienic looking, and you can go for the "whole body" or "foot" experience, and let me tell you, I can not even imagine what it would be like having your whole body covered in flesh eating fish, just the feet was bad enough.
This is mum when she'd just put her feet in... we both were laughing our heads off and shrieking very loudly. It tickles like mad, and the fish totally swarm for a prime piece of leg, so it's totally giggle inducing. It feels like strong air bubbles on your leg - very tingly and not unpleasant once you get over first putting your feet in.

Me examining the little suckers. They don't have teeth, they just suck. Seriously - can you imagine this over your whole body?? Shudder....

Too funny - they sucked off all my fake tan on the bottom half of my legs, so now I have white thighs, and seriously white shins. They totally did a good job though. Legs are feeling smooth and clean. And all the gross foot skin is much nicer. I must say though, the good old Parmesan grater thing they use at the pedi places back home does a great job too (I've totally bought one and it's my secret indulgence to shave skin off my feet). NB: it's not really a parme grater... it just reminds me of one.

So anyway, the whole fish sucky experience was totally hilarious, and definitely worth doing. I'd do it again for sure, it's totally worth the laughs.

The things we do for massages

Jakarta has something like 15 million people and the sun is always an indistinguishable orange-ish blur behind a thick layer of pollution that doesn't let up, which makes doing things outside mostly disagreeable.
That and it's constantly hot and humid, and crossing the road is taking your life into your own hands. Which is why we called our driver to pretty much take us across the road - remember the Ritz - in full visual from the apartment - yeah, he drove us there. I actually think he was really confused and thought we wanted to go somewhere else, and that even the spoilt fat white women wouldn't be that lazy. Yeah, well, we are.
We were greeted by men with machine guns, sniffer dogs, a car inspection (not just a token effort) and actually frisked (and again, not just a token effort, that woman now knows my inner thighs). Inside it was a ghost town, and I got a bit of a shiver thinking about the bomb. There's absolutely no evidence of damage - apart from the fact there is totally no one there and a sense of desperation from staff to greet you with a smile and desperate enthusiasm. These two keen day-spa-ers weren't going to be held back by machine guns. I totally got my nude on too, my therapist had a rather liberal attitude to it all, and clearly wasn't going to leave the room while I changed or showered after I was coated in oil, so what option was I left with. I'm usually pretty prudish about that sort of stuff, but there are times when the meh impulse takes over.
Two 90 minute hot stone massages later we were ready for lunch. We went to the "Satay Club" which is a popular chain, and very delicious. I had chicken satay and gado-gado. nom nom. Oh - and fresh mango juice. Important.
Then we got our shop on - back to the same place we were yesterday to purchase things we passed over thinking we'd find more later. Turns out we didn't, so back to get running pants, running socks and Banana Republic knits. Banana Repubic is the best. We totally need it in Oz. I was totally excited to see Top Shop, but everything was a bit Supre (cheap and nasty and best left to 13 year olds), Marks and Spencer (purchases were made, but it was hard work finding good things amongst all the really bad stuff), Club Monaco (apparently there is no need for anything over a size four), Zara (purchases made), and Mango (I know we've got it, but it's different o'seas). So pretty much all of my purchasing was done in international chain stores we don't have in Oz.
Oh - AND I found another Diane Von Furstenburg store, which had a blue leopard print wrap dress in my size, and I got it on, and it was super cute, but it just wasn't love. And it was more than $400 AUD, so bap bow. I totally love my current one (which Jamie bought me for my birthday a couple of years ago), and this just wasn't love, which I think is a pre-requisite at that price, so I walked away. And sometimes the things you walk away from are just as important as the things you take home.
Frank is arriving home shortly, and I'm making salmon with mushy peas and slow roasted tomatoes. Yum! Disappointingly un-Asian, but mum thinks he'll be over Asian after some time in Aceh (where incidentally they've just passed some laws allowing stoning for adultery and homosexuality, but bribery and corruption they aren't so concerned about).
So there is only one thing left to do that's really on my list (apart from magically transform into a size four) - I want to go to a place where they have the fish that suck on the dead skin on your feet! And they have them, so it's just a matter of us getting organised to do it. I don't want the Dodds to be the only bloggers who have had this experience - you know, for the sake of impariality. The Dodds might be in the pockets of the sucker fish people and be giving good reviews in exchange for free sucks. Ah ha ha. That last sentence could be so rude, but it's also in context, so I'm going with it.

Rea-son-able

Mum has been a super trooper while I've wandered around shopping centres trying on things that don't fit. I think she's nearly reached her limit, and we saved the most harrowing experience for last today. A mall full of fakes - DVDs, CDs, bags, watches, glasses, shoes. Anything and everything you could ever want. What I was in the market for was a lifetime's worth of TV. And that is what I got. Behold... and many of those packages hold upwards of 5 DVDs, so it's way more than it seems. In fact - it's upwards of 100 disks. And requests (Sopranos, Arrested Development, Mad Men) have been attended to. Because everyone cares (and just to make things easier for customs when they confiscate my loot), this is an inventory:
- Being John Malkovich
- Revolutionary Road
- Defiance
- Mad Max
- Benjamin Button
- The Secret Life of Bees
- I am Sam
- Year One
- Kill Bill
- Happy Feet
- Shrek
- Oceans eleven
- Oceans twelve
- Ocean thirteen
- The Pelican Brief
- My life in ruins
- In her shoes
- Frost/Nixon
- Million Dollar Baby
- he's just not that into you
- Kill Bil volume 2
- The boy in striped pajamas
- Mad Max - beyond Thunderdome
- Crossing Over
- Tyson
- Burn After Reading
- District 9
- State of Play
- Anchorman (that one's for you honey)
- 30 rock - season 1 and 2
- Mad Men - season 1 and 2
- Buffy - season 1 to 4 (they didn't have series 5 to 9, or I'd own them too)
- Arrested Development - season 1 to 3
- True Blood - season 1 and 2
- Damages - season 1
- Sopranos - season 1 to 5
- Sex and the city movie - which we are currently watching.

So, get your viewing requests in, I'm happy to lend everything out...

Jakarta

After a mostly empty and uneventful flight, I arrived to see mumsy at the airport waiting, and after we arrived at the apartment we very quickly went downstairs for a very yummy dinner. It's quite a big apartment block, so there are a couple of restaurants downstairs.
I had this yummy rice with lots of bits on the side - dried fish, beef, chicken, egg, chili sauce. nom nom. And mum had kway teow, which was also nommy.

The apartment is very close to the Ritz, which was bombed a couple of months ago. No visible signs of damage now. The only reminder is very tight security everywhere. At the apartment here there are sniffer dogs, they check under your car for bombs when you come in and look in the boot of the car, you have to go through a metal detector and have your handbag inspected. And it's the same at every shopping centre, office or upmarket hotel.

Mum and Frank are moving apartments soon, and this is the pool at the new pad... their place is on the ground floor and has a spare room for any visitors (and that's an open invite to anyone I know).

You can imagine my total excitement on day one of shopping when I looked up and saw dumpling heaven... Mum was very quickly talked into going for lunch (that's her in the yellow top walking in), and it didn't disappoint. We had green beans with chicken mince, and four different kinds of dumplings. They are definitely on par with the Sydney version, and they have more varieties of soup dumpling. Exciting. So we had chicken, crab and pork. So good.

This was lunch today. You sit down and they just put plates of food in front of you. You eat what you want and what you don't want you don't pay for. There was so much to choose from, but I scoffed on beef rendang and mum scoffed on chicken curry. And each plate cost about $1.50.

Yesterday was a frustrating shopping day - turns out I am a big foot amazon woman, but persistence (in the form of going into the same shop in three different shopping centres) pays off. So, today I got a black work dress and a white shirt from Zara. Four belts (ahem - they were really cheap). A pair of two tone patent shoes. And a wrap dress from Marcs and Spencer. That was mostly to console myself for facing a sale rack of Diane Von Frostenburg wrap dresses in animal print, reduced to about $250, and only being able to fit them around my thigh. It was physically painful to walk away from them all... I wanted them soooo much. Sigh.

Anyway, here's today's loot. Mum ought me the red leopard print scarf which she's confiscating off me to give to me at Christmas.

Jakarta

It's been a bit of a last minute thing, but tomorrow I fly to Jakarta for a week to hang out with the pezzers! Frank lives in Jakarta now, and mum is over there hanging out, and since I haven't seen them since our wedding, I thought I'd go see them, and take advantage of having someone to do my ironing, Ramadan sales, and day spa bargains.
I am assured that fresh fruit has been purchased, the Sex and the City box set can be purchased for $20 across the road, and that much delicious spicy food will be consumed. nom nom nom. I'm really excited by the food part of this. And also the shopping - pant pant pant. Sales everywhere apparently. Shopping and eating - I think everyone knows how I feel about those two activities, so it's going to be a good week.
Mum is pumped for a shopping rampage (awesome), and no-one can haggle quite like Dutch Annie, so I'm planning on coming back with much bootleg entertainment. And perhaps a few other items... just a few. The only problem will be being overwhelmed by the sheer size of some of the shopping centres. That and the fact I'm a bigfoot amazon woman compared to Indonesian women. But I'm in the market for some maxi-dresses (this is going to be the summer of the maxi I've decided), a new black work jacket (possibly in boyfriend or tuxedo style - I'm thinking Zara will have the sort of thing I have in mind), summer work flats, running pants, and of course anything else I lay eyes on and decide that I *need* and cannot possibly live without (sequined lace bolero cape anyone?).
I just need to stay on game and not get convinced I have to buy things I don't really want because they are sooo cheap and on sale. I tend to lose perspective in those situations. But I've been better lately - recessionista rationalisation.
I haven't been back to Jakarta since we left in rather a big hurry at the start of 1998, and while I don't really remember much about it, it will be interesting to see how it does compare nearly 12 years on.
It's not a city you'd go to for a holiday, but I'm looking forward to a week of hanging out with mum + eating + shopping. It's a shame J-Mo couldn't come, but we've booked our Christmas trip to Vancouver over the weekend, so that's also something to look forward to! We are flying into San Fran and then hiring a car and driving up to Vancouver. Fun!!
I'll update the blog from JKT!

Random thoughts

I got this email at work a couple of weeks ago which is allegedly some random thoughts of the 25 - 35 year old age group. The following I can totally relate to:
- More often than not, when someone is telling me a story all I can think about is that I can't wait for them to finish so that I can tell my own story that's not only better, but also more directly involves me.
- Have you ever been walking down the street and realised that you're going in the complete opposite direction of where you are supposed to be going? But instead of just turning a 180 and walking back in the direction from which you came, you have to first do something like check your watch or phone or make a grand arm gesture and mutter to yourself to ensure that no one in the surrounding area thinks you're crazy by randomly switching directions on the sidewalk.
- There is a great need for sarcasm font.
- I would rather try to carry 10 plastic grocery bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in.
- I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.
- How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear what they said?
- I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.
- Is it just me or do high school girls get sluttier & sluttier every year?
- Why is it that during an ice-breaker, when the whole room has to go around and say their name and where they are from, I get so incredibly nervous? Like I know my name, I know where I'm from, this shouldn't be a problem …
- I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.
- Sometimes I'll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not know what time it is.
- I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.

An open letter to the waiters of Surry Hills

Dear waiters (specifically the bespectacled manager at Milli Vini):
When did customers become the lucky ones to be served by you? If you can even call it being served that is. I think being patronised by you is a better description for the behaviour displayed by you two weeks ago, you rude, obnoxious, pretentious, git.
How is it conceivable to you to INSIST to a table of three customers, two of whom are frequent regulars at your establishment, that you told us that we had to leave by 8:30, and then when all three of us say you said no such thing, to start lecturing your paying customers about how every good restaurant in Sydney and Europe makes you leave at 8:30 without the slightest bit of contrition or hesitation. Sweetheart, don't talk to me about other restaurants - you need to focus on your home game.
I think you would have made a significant amount of money off us that evening, and you actually said no such thing to us on arriving, you only gesticulated in some unintelligible way when telling us our table was ready. Perhaps it was interpretive? Or maybe your black Tom Ford glasses are actually that big that they block your mouth and all the words coming out of it? If you had told us you needed our table at 8:30, we would have happily sat at the bar and finished the bottle of wine you just let us order. What we weren't so happy about was your totally pompous and utterly rude attitude. You aren't better than the people who come to the place you manage, and to carry on in the pretentious, argumentative, and ridiculous way you did and try and talk down to us has sealed for me the fact I will never again frequent the bar you manage, and will actively discourage others from going. Unfortunately, I do so dearly love the sister establishment to the wine bar, Pizza e Birra, and can't bring myself to boycott that too. But given you aren't even a part owner of either establishment, you won't be profiting off our spend there. I will however be letting the part owner of both establishments, who lives in our street, know exactly what I think of you. Well, maybe not exactly, because it's really quite obscene, but rest assured, you have secured yourself a place right up there on my list of disagreeable people (which is a great idea for a blog list... hhhmm).

Don't you hate it when...

Of course I'm going to bump into my hairdresser on the way home from work and want to hide in shame at the state of my lank and frizzy hair. He only recognised me at the last second, and I wanted to chase after him and yell - "it's about to rain and I haven't washed it for two days ok??" I think he's constantly mortified at me anyway, so probably didn't expect anything else. Usually I rock up with my hair in the worlds smallest ponytail with silver clips to keep the rest off my face, and I read once that dye takes better to non-clean hair, so it's generally in that state when I go see him. He drew the line when I came for a haircut post massage though, and made them wash the oil out of my hair before they put the dye in.
But no matter - I'm a big hit at the hairdresser since I rocked up reading the last book in the Twilight series. Which, incidentally, I became a little OCD and sleep deprived about. It's not even that good, it's just totally compulsive reading...