You are currently browsing the monthly archive for November, 2007.
Because every girl needs one (or two, or three, or four, or more).
Image taken from Sakana Crew
The novelty of lunchboxes has worn off and I’ve been increasingly lazy to pack lunch from home. My more convenient excuse is that all my kitchenware have been packed up in boxes and it doesn’t make sense to rummage through 4 boxes to find all my sandwich-making peripherals.
So as a creature of habit (and due to a lack of options in the vicinity), I’ve been frequenting my favourite haunts and eating the same food. To date, I’ve had chicken schnitzel salad from the cafeteria downstairs 2 days in a row, char siew pau from the Nam Loong (Chinese restaurant down the road), and finally – this has to got to be my favourite – sashimi don from the legendary Don Don just 3 blocks away from my office, and I say it’s legendary because the food’s good, it’s cheap, and you can get your takeaway lunchbox in 10 seconds flat, no kidding.
Now this sashimi don isn’t just any ol’ sashimi don either. $8.10 got me a generous portion (10 fat slices) of fresh ocean trout, a good serving of mesclun salad, pickles, gari, inari strips and tamago, all neatly covering the bed of warm, steaming Japanese rice. And now to get my favourite coffee from Urban Deli.
Ahh, what sheer bliss! *BURP!*
For the first time in a whole month, I’m donning my running gear and lacing up my runners. It feels good to be back.
“I come into Your courts with praise
I bow before Your throne
Your presence gives me peace within
And joy I’ve never knownSo I give to You my heart and soul
May it bring You pleasure, Lord
There’s no higher call than to worship You
For You alone are God”
Sometimes it takes a little Poo(h) in our lives to make us feel better.
I’ve recently discovered that my latest bout of illness was the result of:
- Running a 10km race,
- Triathlon training, and
- Being “too slim, you know?” (I couldn’t help but laugh at this one. And no, I’m not anorexic either.)
Unfounded Aunty-theories, as irritating as they may be, never fail to amuse me because they can be so out of this world. Perhaps I should introduce them to this concept called “influenza“.
That’s what an Awfully Chocolate cake is when you’ve just won the bet and that was the stake.
Nyeh nyeh.
Rain. The unrelenting downpour over the weekend, despite it being the Cup Weekend, is most definitely a breath of fresh air for the dams and reservoirs in drought-stricken Melbourne, but is bad news for my freshly pedicured feet.
As I waddled up Swanston Street with familiar post-pedicure caution, I couldn’t help but smile to myself. My 3-month-old French pedicure, that had gone stale and very unbecoming of a lady, has now been erased, and my toes are sparkling like freshly-painted walls, even reeking of fresh paint. I felt better instantly.
This is the SMS conversation that transpired between Dad and I:
Me (after visit to the doctor’s): Doctor looked at xray and says lung is cloudy. Said it’s bronchopneumonia, given a few more days off work.
Dad: If lung is cloudy in Melb, move to Brisbane where Sunshine Coast is.
