Rats own teddy’s too

I do not usually talk about the gym, but you know I do not usually lead into a story by saying I do not usually talk about the gym. So pretty much I have a unique intro as it is. But I will continue with my story/observation, whatever you want to classify it as. I know you as the reader always want to classify these posts. I began my routine that my personal trainer* ran me through a few months ago, squats. I had to wait a little bit to use the machine as girl in her early 20’s was using the Smith Machine. This is a machine named after a guy/girl/person with the name Smith. While I waited I ran on the treadmill. She moved on so I did my squats on the Smith Machine, as stated. When I finished I moved onto the next exercise yet the girl was on this, taking her time.

New paragraph, so I can vent about that I chose a 24 hour gym and go at 10pm at night so I do not have to wait for equipment. Cause it is plain awkward to just stand there watching them and waiting. You have a routine and you cannot just do something else. Well you probably can but I am a tad OCD when it comes to routines at the gym, along with making sure my alarm clock is set four times, and I cannot have sand in my food. Back to the girl (why am I calling her a girl when she is in her 20’s?) and she moved on again and so I did my thing on the machine that has no memorable name. I looked ahead and yes, the girl was on the machine I wanted to do next. This was no fluke surely… My personal trainer* then walked past and she waved. AHUH!! He did the same routine with her!! I then looked back at the equipment behind me and a guy was doing the same unique exercise at the machine I was just on. He then nodded to my personal trainer*. All three of us were totally different body types and ages, is this something that should be happening? I then realised all nine people in the gym knew and had trained with my personal trainer*.

I find I am having the same unrealistic debates with Cal as I had with my Dad when I was seven. Do not kills the rats/mice in our place as they are nice things. I blame children’s literature for personifying objects/animals/weather and exploiting kids with wild imaginations, they have no idea how much it will affect them their whole lives. Because pretty much everything, even when I am 28, has a soul and a personality. So the rats who are trying to eat through our glass door to get into the house, have to get home before sunrise to help their kids with their homework, have to decide what mother’s day card to buy (Happy Mother’s Day Mum) and some rats have an opinion that painted toenails look shit on most people, including men. Therefore I somehow request Cal to not put rat bait out, to deter/kill the rats. Cal kinda just sighs and secretly does it and I secretly pretend to not know he does it and if the rats disappear, it is because rental prices have gone up in Richmond and they headed to Swan Hill.

Rats have teddys too. Just saying.

And in other news, I lost a bet as I went for the Sydney Swans at the footy, and my mate Dale went for Richmond and Richmond won. Losing the bet meant I have to post Mariah Carey and Whitney Houston status updates for the next week. I am struggling already and it is only Monday. See below for my sad face:

Sydney will win next time and Dale will have to post Christian rock band lyrics for a week. My post today was:

“Placed so much joy into our hands
What we dreamed
We finally captured
Heaven took command”

This is concerning as I sound like someone on Facebook who is being cryptic and wanting attention.

*Friendly fella who has a passion for fitness but unsure if he is right for me. Just saying.

Drumming Flowers

I first of all wondered why a flower needs a drum. Or is the drum made of flowers, and if so, is it metaphorical because I am pretty sure it would have a next to no sound when you hit a daisy against a bunch of wattle. Not really going to get the party started or any type of festival/ceremony for that matter. Maybe I am just thinking too much. Or got this odd thing with flora.

Flower Drum, was the first of my 12 amazing dinners that I won through the Bank of Melbourne and Melbourne Food and Wine Festival Prize. It also happened to be my 28th Birthday.

We arrived via a taxi who seemed pretty sure they knew where the restaurant was, turns out they didnt. But we entered on time and we were shown to a lift that reminded me of the kind of scary 1970’s style lift that I had to go up to visit the Dentist. I didnt blame Flower Drum for this memory, it just was coincidental. I stepped out and shook away that memory, and was immediately greeted by two very cheerful hosts who took our jackets and we were immediately led to our table, while another pair of hosts rolled a large wooden table by us. Casually but in a professional manner, these guys and the table were on a mission. We sat down and we were introduced to our waiter for the evening. Turned out we had a few who assisted us, one seemed like a pro and then one fella seemed like his apprentice waiter.

Wine lists were provided and we chose to have some champagne to celebrate my birthday.

After a cheers, we chose straight away to go with the degustation banquet as we knew this would let us taste the variety along with a glass of wine with every dish. One small issue was that I am vegetarian.

Side step for a sec. When I told friends and family I had won this prize, they all said it was wasted on me because I was a Vego. This naturally led them all to saying that they should come with me so someone could appreciate the meats at these fantastic restaurants. This led me to remind them that I prefer them to submit their applications in writing. Nah, I was pretty stoked by it all that I had no idea who to pick for each dinner.

So back to Flower Drum. I decided for this special evening, I would let myself try the meats offered as they would be great quality and well prepared. And I was glad I did (hypocrite?).

Every dish that came out was simply amazing, I just kept grinning. And for the first time in my life I truly discovered that a perfect matching wine to a dish really does bring out even more flavour. Both in the wine and the dish. Whether that was the wine talking or some amazing new revelation.

Now I wont pretend to be a food critic and explain all the details of the food as I usually would change the channel on someone who did do that. No channel changing here.

All I will say is that the experience was up there with the time I had a Bubble-O-bill for the first time in years. Or the time when I went to a nice restaurant and had amazing food. Take your pick.

It was a great way to spend a birthday evening as I began to realise how fantastic the next year would be with winning this prize. And leaving the restaurant we dodged a few more tables rolling down the room, on a mission to be setup for tomorrow’s diners. I hope they get a percussion show that relates to the floral world. cause I didnt. That was the only downer.

PS. I do know what a Flower Drum is. These ladies are displaying a sample:

And you can find out more here. Just saying.

Happy Birthweek to me.

This has to be one of the best birthdays. People say that all the time, I reckon I mean it. Deep in the bottom of my guts.

I had a party at my apartment, and the simple fact I had no expectation, made it a great night. Cal and I had been wondering whether to move or not, but when we had so many people compliment the place and say how homely it was, that was the deciding factor. We are staying.

Back to the party, we had people and music and conversations. The bestest combo, I read it in a book. It felt like my 21st, and I was surrounded by such a good group of people. To reflect back on my birthday last year and now, I have discovered so much and made so many new friendships. I am thankful.

Here are some photos, of the birthday festivities at the apartment. I had a bath with ice in it and drinks in the ice. It kept the cold.

Cal thinks this is funny.

The other birthday boy on the right, Dale and friend Dougy.