Earl Grey Tea

Hi there!

Firstly, I'm alive. This semester has been horrible and as my level of blogging is directly related to the amount of work I've had to do then I guess you'd be able to figure out that I've been working very hard.

Anyway I'm back! At least until the next crazy/stressful/caffeine addicted semester begins. Yes, I did learn how to live off six hours of sleep each night. And yes, once I made the decision to change my sleeping patterns I freaked out a little bit so I did some extensive google searching and discovered at least three articles which specified that we need between 6-7.5 hours of sleep per night and that in fact sleeping for more than 9 hours decreases your health. Then after reading that I didn’t feel quite so bad.

Needless to say I've been drinking a lot of coffee lately. To my own surprise I managed to go through the same amount of coffee that I went through over the whole first semester in two weeks during study break. But apart from the obviously excessive coffee consumption I gained an appreciation of tea. More specifically Earl Grey. 

I feel so posh for saying a specialty tea name instead of just saying 'tea' but I feel that it's necessary to differentiate between earl grey and say a common English Breakfast. Earl grey is an aromatic tea whereas English Breakfast has a far subtler taste. My tea for choice? Earl Grey Blue Flower by T leaf tea. You really must try it.

Now I must confess that I love tea for more than just the taste. A key part of my enjoyment stems from the fact that I feel that I can speak in a posh English accent whilst I enjoy my tea. It seems appropriate to hold my tea cup with my pinky sticking out and saying things like 'darling' and 'you simply must come summer with us in Greece.' Even though I've never been to Greece let alone summered there, it just seems appropriate while I'm drinking tea because naturally a tea drinker must also 'summer'. 

Tea is an incredibly social beverage. In programmes like 'Coronation Street' then whenever someone comes to visit then immediately they're asked 'would you like a cuppa?' and the kettle is heard whistling away in the background. You can't share a bottle of orange juice or hot chocolate in quite the same way you can share a cup of tea. Tea symbolises a long afternoon chatting away about nothing in particular. An afternoon where one cup stretches to two or three and then to so many that you can't quite remember the number since your gracious host keeps on topping up the tea pot. It's the ultimate symbol of hospitality there's nothing that makes you feel more welcome than immediately receiving a hot cuppa into your eager hands.

I like Tea. I can also proudly tell you that if anyone comes to visit my house then they won't be able to leave before they tell me how life is treating them and until they've drunk a cup of tea. Except of course they're one of those weird people who don't like hot beverages... odd.

Song Addiction of the Day

I love Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes. Their whole album is stellar. Especially Om Nashi Me... I couldn't get the mp3 uploader to work sorry!

Piccyatures

Just mucking around home with my camera

Sneaky Photo taking

My models response when I asked them to keep a straight face for a photo

View Across the Equestrian Centre

Fresh Peruvian Coffee

As soon as I got home from my grocery shopping I proudly grabbed my coffee and urged all of my flatmates to smell it. Unfortunately none of them like coffee but I was so excited by the wonderful aroma I wanted everyone to try it. As soon as I could I made myself a steaming hot cup of coffee using the delicious beans. You see today I was very lucky to find a place in Palmerston North that sells fresh Peruvian coffee beans. None of that instant crap for me anymore. Now that I have a plunger it's real coffee all the way.

It's a small almost unknown store in Palmy called 'Steve's Wholefoods.' It's tucked next to Domino's Pizza and and fresh produce store. You really wouldn't think anything of it if you were just walking along the street. But inside there are incredible things like cheap fresh coffee, quinoa and strange baked goods from Germany. It's essentially a food connoisseurs dream store. Personally I also think that it can make it onto the Lonely Planet Guide to the best things to do in Palmy (after all countdown is ranked number twenty).

I just can't quite express my excitement from making my first good cup of coffee at home.

Like Crazy

My Anna-esque outfit

I recently watched a movie called 'like crazy'. It wasn't the best movie in the world although at the same time it wasn't the worst. I mainly watched it because Jennifer Lawrence is in it and she is kind of unforgettable. Unfortunately her part was very small and so the movie was largely forgettable. I found that they tried too hard to make it indie with their indie music montages and weird camera shots of pointless scenes and of course the largely unsatisfying ending. Overall I wouldn't recommend watching it. However there is one thing that I loved about it. That is Anna's (the female lead) style. 

She begins the film rocking the messy hair look with her hair in side ponytails, plaits and pretty much going everywhere. Then as the film progresses she develops a more refined style. I guess the fashion has to mature with the character. I just loved the cool simple slightly oversized t shirt with skirt look at the start of the film. It gives the skirt a different feel with the different coloured T's. Anna quite effectively manages to use a cheap piece of clothing to increase the versatility of a more expensive piece. A wonderful idea. I really should do the same and invest in some basic nice cotton t shirts. I'm not talking about the cheap ones from 'supre' or 'glassons' of course. I'm talking about nice simple classy ones that will last me more than a week.

Unfortunately I still have another eight months to wait until I can buy some. No new clothes for an entire year is rather difficult when you're lacking basics... Unfortunately most/all of the t shirts from the Salvation Army Op Shop seem to either be decorated with weird floral designs or sweat marks. Tasty. But I shouldn't be so negative you never know after all!

Annas Flirty Feminine Style

Anna's Look

My look

Because of my lack of classy T shirts I then decided to try to replicate another one of Anna's outfits. This outfit is the final Anna outfit. It's simple, refined and a far cry from the indie child look that she had at the start. The screen capture above doesn't show the whole outfit (she wears a lovely pair of tapered black pants) but I think you get the idea, stripes, pants and a nice little belt. In my version I used a striped singlet and a wonderfully big woolen jersey. I feel that the brown accessories tie it together rather nicely and the colour makes for a more youthful look (after all I'm not a married junior editor like Anna.)

As a side not I have to admit that I've had these black pants for a few months now and I had no idea what to wear with them! I thought about colour blocking but then I ended up looking like an eighties pop star. I was at a loss. But I rather like the simple nautical look with them. I think they're just meant to be worn with a classic look.

After thought:

So I don't forget all of the wonderful things I want to buy when I can buy things I shall attach a 'buy next year' label... Next year... wow!

Oh and thanks to Rachel for taking my photo :D

Scrambled Egg with Butter

Sometimes food just makes you feel something. It's not that it makes you feel full or fuzzy or anything else. It just reminds you of a time or a moment when you felt something. I made myself scrambled eggs with butter tonight for dinner. A fairly standard light dinner for most people. But to me whenever my brain recognises the taste of scrambled eggs with butter then my brain conjures up the vision of my father cooking.

To be frank my father is not a good cook. The last time I remember him making dinner then he made a stew that managed to taste like dirt. Now when people say that then they usually mean figuratively like it's a way to say that it just tastes bad. But when I say that my fathers stew tastes like dirt I mean literally. After I had one bite of it then I spat it out. I then stared very carefully down at the stew and realised that I hadn't accidentally eaten potting mix instead of stew instead to my horror my dinner just tasted like dirt. To this day I still don't know if my father decided to add a touch of dirt as a joke or if he just somehow managed to accidentally isolate the taste of dirt using ingredients from the spice cabinet.

I must give my father his due. He can make wonderful scrambled eggs. He always puts in a fair bit of butter and cooks them perfectly. I think he may even dabble with adding a little bit of salt and pepper.. He doesn't make them often. In fact I've only ever seen him make them for my mother to give her breakfast in bed. I would usually crawl into bed beside my mother once she had her breakfast as the sun streamed into her bedroom through the windows. Then I'd just lie next to her while she flipped through NEXT magazine. In that moment I felt safe and serene.

Now that's how I feel whenever I buttery scrambled eggs.

A week without Gluten

Pistachio Nut Caramel Slice

Banana Pikelets with butterscotch sauce and cheesecake filling

Well actually five days... I decided to try to spend a week without eating gluten. Apparently it's meant to be great for you. Makes you feel and look fantastic. Or at least that's what Miley Cyrus told me, http://www.stuff.co.nz/life-style/wellbeing/6723812/Miley-Cyrus-slammed-by-dietitians.

A year ago I never would've followed any of Miley Cyrus's advice (mainly because the most memorable one happened to be not wearing underwear) but now I find that I've gained a wee bit of respect for Miley. That's because of a fellow called Liam Hemsworth.

Liam Hemsworth is one of the stars of 'the Hunger Games', which by the by is nothing at all like 'Twilight' since there's no blood drinking just a bunch of teenagers killing each other. Anyway don't let the premise put you off the book and the movie are both fantastic. Regretably I have now become a 'hungerling' and bought into the franchise, something and indie kid like me would never do. You'll probably see me at the 'Catching Fire' premiere dressed up as Katniss. Embarrassing but true. Anyway since Liam Hemsworth acts alongside the likes of Jennifer Lawrence (female celeb crush #2 after Emma Stone) in the 'Hunger Games' then he must be awesome. How is Miley Cyrus related to Liam Hemsworth? Well they happen to be dating. Therefore since I think Liam Hemsworth a good judge of character Miley Cyrus has improved in my eyes. Although it works the other way round for my friend Phoebe 'yeah, since he's dating Miley Cyrus I have a lot less respect for Liam Hemsworth.'

So Miley Cyrus is the reason I went gluten free for a wee while. I didn't really like it. I was forced to have rice and potatoes as my main source of carbohydrates. I know that there are some lovely websites that give gluten free cupcake and pasta recipes but honestly have you seen the ingredient list? Half of the types of flour I've never heard of because a) they're probably only found in America and b) there's no way that my local Pak 'n' Save would ever be classy enough to stock it and c) there's no way that I'll ever be classy enough to buy it. So a week of potatoes and rice. No muesli because it contained gluten and of course no bread. That made making my usual sanwiches for lunch rather difficult. I tried to using rice wafers with avocado and tomato but they just disintegrated into a gooey green mush. Tasty.

That's the end of my gluten free adventure. I have to say that I shan't be trying it again anytime soon. I may try to eat less gluten but I quite simply think being gluten free as a student is next to impossible unless of course if you really like rice or if you have a ridiculous amount of scholarship money to buy gluten free food.

Plus I really don't think I could survive any longer without any of the tasty treats shown above.

White chocolate whoopie pies with Cream Cheese Filling

Today I was torn between studying and baking. I kid. I was thinking to myself how I really should be studying and how baking seemed like a far more enjoyable use of my time. So it isn't hard to see how I ended up baking a delicious batch of whoopie pies.

I think that whoopie pies are a bit like beginner cupcakes. They don't need a piping bag (unless you're pedantic), it's fairly obvious when they're cooked (they get a wonderful golden colour) and you don't have to be quite so delicate with the mixture. In my humble opinion if you're procrastinating then whoopie pies are the far easier way to go.

I do however think it's ridiculous that whoopie pies are meant to be replacing cupcakes as the hit baked good. I would never buy a whoopie pie. They're far too easy to make yourself and to be honest professional ones barely differ from ones you make at home. I think it's rather stupid to buy anything which you can make at home and doesn't look incredible (lets be honest I can never really say 'no' to a beautifully presented friand).

White Chocolate Whoopie Pies

Ingredients
60g White chocolate melted
60g white chocolate finely chopped
80g butter softened
3/4 c buttermilk
1 egg
1/2 c brown sugar
1/2 c caster sugar
2 c flour
1 tsp baking soda

Method
1. Preheat oven to 180 degrees Celsius. Beat butter furiously until it substantially lightens in colour, about 2 minutes.
2. Add sugars to the butter and continue to beat furiously, another 2 minutes.
3. Add egg to mixture and beat for another 2 minutes.
4. Melt white chocolate on a double boiler. Bear in mind that white chocolate tends to go clumpy so keep an eye on it.
5. Add chocolate to butter mixture and beat again.
6. Alternatively add the buttermilk and the flour and baking soda in about three portions. Fold mixture well after each addition. Make sure that the buttermilk is well incorporated before adding the flour otherwise the mixture will be lumpy. Do not over mix.
7. Gently add the finely chopped chocolate.
7. Dollop onto a baking tray in a similar way to cookies. Cook for 10 minutes or until golden.

Frosting
150g Cream Cheese
3/4 c icing sugar
100g butter

1. Soften butter then furiously beat for two minutes.
2. Add the cream cheese and beat mixture until the mixture is well incorporated.
3. Add the icing sugar and beat the whole mixture for 3 minutes.
 4. Sandwich the whoopie pies together with the icing.

They're rather delicious. Although I must confess I ate far too many of them while I was making them so be careful or else you may find yourself on quite a sugar high.

Watches vintage movies

'Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.'
'We'll always have Paris.'
'Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.'


Casablanca. 

I saw it for the first time tonight and I felt that the whole experience was very magical. I went along to the local cinemas with a few friends and I watched it on the big screen. Everyone laughed at the timeless jokes, cried at the emotional scenes and let out a great sigh every time there was a quote which everyone knew (which was often). It was incredible. I wasn't bored by the black and white colouring or the old fashioned language instead I found myself listening intently for the entire movie. In fact my only break in concentration was to grab an mystery chocolate from its box. It was lovely. I know someone may make the point that 'hey you could've seen it at home for one dollar instead of thirteen'. But I just have to say that those thirteen extra dollars were most certainly worth it since I probably wouldn't have watched it at home and if I had watched it at home I wouldn't have heard the pleasant mutterings from the other viewers (most of which were over fourty).

Casablanca is completely timeless. The jokes weren't crude or crass. They were just witty. The storyline started the whole love of your life leaving on an aeroplane cliche with one distinct difference. This wasn't a cliched romcom instead it was just a story with the sole purpose of telling that story rather than getting asses in cinema seats.

Overall a really pleasant evening.

My advice; try watching one of those timeless movies at the cinema. Even if you've seen them before it still makes them a thousand times better.

Fabulous Pajamas

Today I went from proudly being overdressed in a silk singlet, high waisted skirt and red lipstick to a grotty garage sale to strutting around the house proudly in my pajamas at 2 pm. So why the change?

I like extremes. When I'm out and about I find myself wanting to look fabulous. Strangers will be seeing me for the first time, and as first impressions are paramount then I need to put my best foot forward. You never know if one of those strangers on the street is a high class fashion blogger or a model scout or some hot shot Hollywood director visiting his mother in Palmerston North or just a really hot guy. Okay all of those options are pretty unlikely, sadly even the last one. But I'm an optimist so I live by the rule that 'you never know when...'

So that's the first reason, kind of expected but to let you in on a secret the bigger reason is that I'm wonderfully selfish and I like to look fancy for myself. I don't go to cocktail parties every weekend or on dates every other night so I don't really often have a chance to doll myself as often as I'd like. I get a bit of a thrill seeing an outfit come together, right down to the lipstick colour. After I've put together this piece of art then I want to be able to show off my creation, a little bit like an artist having an exhibition but instead it's me being wonderfully over dressed to run my errands.

So the Pajamas. When I'm at home I'm not expecting anyone to have a look at my lovely outfit why not be as comfortable as possible. I remember when I was about fifteen I had a huge fight with my mother because she concluded that it was inappropriate for me to change from my school uniform into my pajamas at four pm. Back then I thought it was a wonderful time saving technique and I couldn't understand why my mother didn't do the same. Finally after my sister was subjected to many arguments over my 'inappropriate' pajama wearing between my mother and I she marched me out to buy 'casual' clothes (a concept which I dislike intensely, it seems horribly inefficient to buy clothes for use only around the house when you can wear your pajamas). But now that I no longer live with my mother I have the freedom to wear my pajamas as often as I want. They are the most comfortable pants I own, after all they were designed to give me a perfect restful sleep.

Song Obsession of the Day
Rubik's Cube - Athlete

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I don't know why but somehow this song makes me almost burst into tears. It may be due to sleep deprivation or because I watched a beautiful fan video about Annie and Finnick from the Hunger Games set to it. Either way I'm currently listening to it on repeat and trying not to cry.

Oh and FYI I'm currently in love with The Hunger Games. Saw the movie, read the book in five hours and now I'm a huge Peeta Katniss shipper. Although I found that when I heard Jennifer Lawrence say 'Peeta' rather hilarious so I now often say 'Peeta and Katniss' in a whiney voice because I think it's funny. I don't think my flatmates feel the same way. I felt the need to share that. I have a tendency to over share...

Thought of the Day

'You are probably going to be a very successful computer person. But you're going to go through life thinking that girls don't like you because you're a nerd. And I want you to know, from the bottom of my heart, that that won't be true. It'll be because you're an asshole.' -The Social Network

Red Lipstick

This morning I went out to brunch and my aunt greeted me by saying 'you look glamorous'. It's a wonderful thing to have said about oneself.

Before I start telling you about the creation of my glamorous look. I must tell you that before I decide what I'm going to wear that day I think to myself 'who do I want to be today?' Sounds bizarre? Gosh Lily! You're just Lily! I mean that I think to myself 'do I want to be a funky rocker chick today? Or a professional high power business woman? Or a wannabe indie kid? Or a glamorous nineteen fifties socialite?' Each day I decide something a little bit different and I dress accordingly.

Today I decided I wanted to emulate 1950's Hollywood aka the Marilyn Monroe era. You know Marilyn? Everyone does. She epitomises glamour what with her delicate blonde hair and enviable curves. She's the fifties style icon. Of course I'd never call her a 'role model' after all she did have that whole mistress to JFK thing going on.

Moreover I feel that the Marilyn era is very much one I'd like to have lived through. It was a time when the cancer causing properties of cigarettes were unknown so everyone could glamorously swirl cigarette smoke as they laughed delicately and sipped their martinis. Some days when I dress I try to give myself a bit of that suave sophistication.

It's not difficult to do. I don't smoke or smile sweetly or have numerous cocktail parties. I just put on red lipstick. Somehow it immediately makes me feel like I'm Marilyn the glamorous actress on the set of 'Some Like it Hot'. Whenever I'm wearing red lipstick I feel like I can walk around 'Pak 'n' Save' with high heels on and the people staring at me aren't thinking 'why is she wearing make up to the supermarket?' but instead they're thinking 'what a glamorous, incredible woman I wonder where she's going,' I feel like I own 'Pak 'n' Save'.

Don't believe me? Try it out. Buy some red lipstick! Whenever you're having a bad day then put it on, as soon as that magical colour comes to your lips you'll feel like you've been transported to 1950's Hollywood. You may even find yourself waiting for the director to shout 'cut'.

A fun photo, since I've been even more MIA than community channel lately.

Found a Coin

A few days ago I encouraged a group of people to tell me something interesting that happened to them that day. At first I was met with a stunned silence. No one could think of anything that had happened to them that day that was worthwhile saying. I then told them that it could be something as small as 'finding a ten cent coin.' Once they'd realised that something as small as finding a ten cent coin was interesting then I was told a variety of interesting things that had happened like being given a block of chocolate and getting money from StudyLink.

We always seem to think that our lives are horribly dull and the regular good things that happen to us just aren't worth reporting. Yet on the other hand when something bad happens like losing a wallet or missing the bus then we're eager to tell the entire world about it. It's rather sad because then before we know it a perfectly lovely day turns into 'the worst day ever' purely because of all of the little things getting us down.

We need to start recognizing the little things.

So I've decided to start a revolution using a ten cent coin as a symbol. You can't buy anything with a ten cent coin. But it still should be celebrated. As that coin will eventually be spent with some other coins to buy a $4 cider one night at Shooters. The little things may be common but they're still worth something.

Appreciate them.

Next time you're walking down the street bend over and pick up that abandoned coin. Think of all of the things that coin could help you to achieve. Before you know it a ten cent coin would have become something worth blogging about.

I found the ten cent coin in the photo today. I smiled, put it in my pocket and realised that some good little thing happens every day.

Freaked out about Identity Theft

I realise that most of you, my lovely blog followers don't know about my one glaring character flaw. But in order for this story to make sense then I'll have to tell you about it.

I'm horribly absent minded.

I frequently forget where I've left my keys, to lock my bedroom door and even to turn off my car headlights. I even (to my Granny's frustration) frequently forgot to feed her cat before I went to bed. Don't worry the cat's still alive since Granny never forgot to feed it.

My absent mindedness means that I often lose things since I'm always in my own world so I can't think where I put certain items. It meant that today I lost my wallet. Or at least I thought I lost it, although that's a bit of a spoiler.

I was at the Printery and I started hunting through my bag for my wallet to pay for my printing. To my horror it was gone. I couldn't remember where I'd last seen it or where it could be. So I left my bag with friends at the Printery and began a mad dash around campus. First I went to the Wool Building. I almost was tempted to barge into a ten person lecture. Then I found a staff member to ask. He dutifully took me around to various offices and asked people if they'd seen my wallet. No such luck. I thanked the man and continued on with my quest.

I ran up to AgHort C and checked what I thought was my lecture theater. But since I always just absent mindedly follow everyone else then I wasn't entirely sure if it was the right lecture theatre. The group of chaps chatting in the corridor must have thought I was very strange what with my worried dashing into and out of lecture theaters.

I continued searching with no luck. I even filled out a lost property form at Security which made me list the contents of my wallet. Due to the previous phone disaster which proved that people aren't as kind as I thought they were I believed that I probably wouldn't get my wallet back. I then began to wonder about the person who had my wallet. What if they were a crack addict? What if that crack addict ended up dead in a Palmerston North ditch? Then because they had my wallet then they were incorrectly identified as me. Then the next day in the newspaper the headline read 'Crack Addict Lily Grey Dead'. I began wondering about everyone mourning my death and the awkwardness that would follow when I came out and said 'hey guys I'm still alive.'

I began thinking about what if the wallet finderer and keeperer was a regular kind of person wanting a thrill. Then they might use my season pass to go skiing and drive around on my full license or use it to buy alcohol if they were underage and then they'd use my $40 Pak N Save voucher to finance their illegal alcohol buying.

Obviously I was freaking out a little. I didn't want someone to steal my identity.

I arrived back at where I'd left my bag and a friend kindly suggested that I look in my bag one last time. I exclaimed 'it's not here, I don't have any money to get home. How am I going to do anything without my wallet!'

'Lily.' She said quietly. 'Is that your wallet?'

To my delight it was sandwiched between a book and my diary. After that I was overcome with embarrassment. A stranger who stood just a little ways away from me was quietly smiling to herself. I'd freaked out to the extreme and wasted countless people's time.

I'd blown the entire situation out of proportion and because of that little mistake of mine I learnt that people are willing to help as long as you're willing to ask. One person may have decided to keep my wallet but at the same time five other people helped me to try and find it.

Wears Maxi Skirts

The Famous Maxi Skirt op shopped from Aeon on
Cuba St in Wellington.

When everyone was buying Maxi skirts I vowed to myself that I would never follow that trend. Oh well I guess I broke that vow because as the photographic evidence above shows. I, Lily Gray bought a maxi skirt. What can I say I finally tried one on and I liked it!

Today was my experiment with wearing a maxi skirt to University. Before I start my spiel I must confess it was a little bit difficult. You see I had to catch the bus to university.

Of course I missed my bus this morning. That meant I had to wait for an uncomfortably long period of time at the bus stop, during which time a man in a car drove past me and stared at me for a good 200 m. I guess they didn't have maxi skirts in Palmerston North until I came along...

Then I had to stumble onto the bus. I think stumble is the right word because although I've read extensively about the maxi skirt in Fashion Quarterly they forgot to mention one important detail. Maxi skirts/dresses are horribly impractical. Today I found myself tripping over my skirt going up stairs and down stairs and I even had to awkwardly hitch up my skirt while I was walking through my horses paddock. Maxi skirts aren't made for walking or doing anything vaguely physical (except perhaps shopping). The especially uncomfortable thing was that when I tripped over my hemline I found that my skirt would slip down and expose my petticoat. I was perilously close to a disaster, I could have flashed my undies!*

So I now know that maxi skirts are horribly impractical. Although if I were to choose my clothes based on practicality I'd end up wearing track pants and sneakers 24/7...shudder. I believe that in clothing there must be a balance of wear ability and style. How did the maxi skirt measure on the style front? Well I got complimented by four different people today. Ergo very stylish and a must wear.

I shall just have to pick out a day when I'm doing very lady like things to wear it.

*Although that's quite modest when you take into account that when I arrived at the Equestrian center today there were six vet students posing naked for a nude photo shoot for their calendar. I was a little bit surprised to say the least... A little bit of an eye sore...

Can find culture in Palmerston North

I live in Palmerston North in New Zealand. I didn’t choose to move here. Instead I made a decision to study something that can only be studied in Palmerston North so I didn’t really have any further decisions to make. 

So what’s Palmerston North like? Well ever since John Clease said ‘If you ever do want to kill yourself, back lack the courage, I think a visit to Palmerston North will do the trick,’ then it’s more or less been the butt of every joke. 

I think they kind of bring it on themselves, yes I refuse to call myself a Palmerston Northian... After all their most famous icon is the naked pie man; he sells pies to drunk students and yes, as the name suggests he runs around naked. I think I’ve painted you a reasonably accurate portrait of Palmy as a rather bogan and dull place.

It therefore becomes a rather difficult task to find creative happenings in Palmerston North. When I first arrived I was shocked by the fact that the ‘best’ shopping area was a homogeneous mall. I say homogeneous because quite literally you could pick it up and plonk it anywhere in the world. It’s a rather boring place full of girls dressed horribly in supre outfits, shudder. Then lucky for me I discovered George St. It’s a magical street with owner operated boutiques. There’s not many but there’s just enough to be able to spend an hour or so perusing the offerings. The shops on George St show a classier side to Palmerston North and let me remind you that the New Zealand brand Kilt started with a shop on George St. 

If clothes don’t interest you there’s a few nice brunch places in that area of Palmerston North. My personal favourite is OE cafe in the art center. They make a variety of delicious coffees, many of which I’ve never heard of. While you wait you can look around the gallery at the array of art work. If that isn’t culture then I don’t know what is!

That’s my little Palmerston North spiel. You never know I may do another if I continue feeling sorry for Palmy.

Oh and finally I must mention that there’s a cafe on George St called Barista which does a regular high tea, with live music. Beat that Queen St!

Wellington, from ages ago. Mainly because I really miss the sun...

The weather's terrible at the moment, rain wind et al. Hence why I included the first photo...

Song Obsession
Red Rabbit - The Shins. It was hard to choose one song because I'm in love with this band at the moment.

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Talks to Strangers

'Is the 10.30 bus to Wellington leaving from here?'

Somehow that single sentence started a conversation that lasted 2 hours and the duration of my bus ride from Palmerston North to Wellington.

I met a girl called 'Addie' from Boston. We talked about 'college', New Zealand, Politics, Drinking, school, snobs, fashion. I think we almost covered every topic possible. It was enlightening to talk to someone who lived so far away from my little Palmerston North bubble and knew absolutely nothing about me.

I guess that's a big excitement about talking to strangers. They don't know anything about you. They haven't heard your favorite anecdotes or your description of the dangers of horse riding or your addiction to colour blocking. Strangers seem interested in these little spiels, although that may also be because as you get to know someone then the level of required politeness decreases. Moreover the conversation is fresh and unpredictable. There's no way to know the experiences that the person has had or their personal opinions. You start the conversation with no idea where it's going to end up. They may be interested in ultimate frisbee or fire twirling. Nine times out of ten it's usually something that you know very little about so you get an opportunity to grow your own knowledge. I can now proudly say that I actually understand the rules of ultimate frisbee (despite being a club member for the last year...)

The big point of this post is to say that you should talk to strangers.

They're often quite interesting people with interesting things to say. If it seems intimidating then simply think to yourself 'would I like someone to start a conversation with me?' The answer is probably 'yes' unless you hate conversation which is very antisocial. The stranger is probably quite glad to have a conversation with you during a bus journey to help pass the time.

Plus the best thing is that as you talk to a stranger then they slowly morph from a weird, scary, potential murderer into a friendly, funny person.

Song Addiction of the Day
Radio - Lana Del Rey

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Vintage Pants

If you've been following my blog since the beginning then you'd know that I decided to make a new years resolution that I wouldn't buy any new clothes for the entire year. I figured that I was spending too much money on clothes and that it was time for me to have a bit of a challenge.

I've been quietly finding different pieces of clothing during January and February and expanding my wardrobe. I'll probably post about the pieces of clothing that I made eventually but for now I want to squee in excitement about the pants I bought.

Sunhat - Glassons $20, Sunglasses - Sunglass Hutt $10, Necklace - Trademe $12, Shoes - Op Shop $6, Trousers -  Dress for Success Sale $12. I've always wanted to do one of those. 

Yes, I bought the crazy groovy pants in the photo. They're chiffon, flare trousers with... pockets! Now when I first plucked them out from the rack I thought to myself 'Goodness Lily! These pants are insane there's no way that you could possibly wear them!' Then another voice in my head said 'why not try them on?' So I followed the second voice and after a host of compliments from the women working at the stall they were sold.

Part of the reason I grabbed the pants out from the rack in the first place was because I'd seen these pants in Fashion Quarterly. 

Of course those pants are silk pants from Stolen Girlfriends Club and happen to retail for $460... A little bit more than I can afford. I must also reiterate at this point that I'm don't treat Fashion Quarterly as a bible in that I must follow every trend. Some of them are just ridiculous.

For example, the whole crop top thing. I'll eat soap if I ever saw a regular person looking good in a crop top. I think that whole trend should be confined to haute couture fashion shows in that it looks good on gorgeous thin models but it should never actually be worn. 

However I must say that I am a fan of following trends that suit your body shape. A very obvious example is the high waisted skirt trend. I've got a slight hour glass shape in that my top half is balanced by my booty. This means that I always follow trends that highlight my waist and reinforce this silhouette instead of masculine clothing that hides it (eg those hideous sack dresses... they just make me look pregnant.)

You see the glory of those 'groovy' pants is that they come in at the waist and then because they're made of chiffon they don't cling to any parts that they shouldn't be clinging to and instead their silhouette delicately runs to the ground. Yes, I'm rather pleased with that purchase.

Oh and I feel like I should try to encourage op shopping! Fashion is very cyclic case in point the drop waists of the 1920's which are coming back with a fury. So if you hit up an op shop you'll never know when you might be lucky enough to find that an old Granny has just decided to clear out her wardrobe full of seventies treasures. Then you'll be on style for about 5% of the price.

Can't make Pancakes

It seems like a stupid thing to say doesn't it? I mean who can't make pancakes? I remember when I was about five years old making pancakes during choosing time. They're very straight forward. Don't you just whack all of the ingredients together and cook the pancakes?

Buttermilk Pancakes

+1c Buttermilk

+1 c self raising flour

+2 tbsp sugar

+ Rind of 1/2 a lemon

+2 tbsp butter

-Combine all ingredients.

-Cook

Hmm... that's where you're wrong. It's the cooking that I always find difficult. The picture on the buttermilk container always looks something like this

And somehow everytime I make pancakes they always end up looking like this. 

I follow the instructions and watch my pancakes attentively but for some reason they just always end up looking like reject pancakes.

Being the scientist that I am I started analysing all of the variables that go into making pancakes in order to determine the cause of the problem. I knew that the recipe was perfect (otherwise it's incorrect advertising and all that jazz) so it must have been one of the cooking factors. I tried changing the way that I prepared the pan for the pancakes.

Yes, it's a very technical process. You see my Granny recently taught me the way to make a perfect omelet. 'One should always add a walnut size piece of butter to the pan and then wait until it's bubbling furiously before one adds the omelet mixture.' My Granny always says 'one' instead of you or I. Using this idea I dutifully added a walnut chunk of butter and waited for it to start spitting at me. I then added the mixture and hopefully waited for a beautiful batch of perfectly cooked. It didn't work. My pancakes would be most accurately personified to be teenagers with bad tan lines and a serious bout of acne.

The only other issue that I could possibly think of was the pan. You see we have one of the 'non stick' pans that was advertised on TV with the person cooking rocks in it. The theory - 'this pan never scratches!' Hmm well if they really wanted to test that then they should have sent that pan to our house. Within six months the pan was scratched and well and truly a 'stick' pan. This could've made me decide to go out and get a new nonstick pan if it weren't for the fact that in the movie 'Pleasantville' (which is set in the fifties well and truly before teflon was on pan surfaces) the pancakes look perfect and golden. Yes i know that I shouldn't believe everything that movies tell me but my year 11 English teacher told me that 'Pleasantville' gives an accurate representation of the fifties. 

Anyway that little clip means that I can't blame the pan.

So now I find that this morning I'm serving my family a batch of speckled pancakes. Hmm I think that making a perfect batch of pancakes should be another new years resolution. Although that may mean that my flatmates will have to deal with a lot of ugly looking pancakes ibefore I perfect the art.

Now I know I haven't blogged for quite sometime so I thought I'd post some pretty pictures which I've taken recently.

Song Obsession of the Day

I haven't done one of these for a while so....

D.A.N.C.E -Justice

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Pink Macaroons

Heavenly.

I think that's the best way to describe macaroons. They look almost ethereal with their beautiful glossy sheen. In fact I reckon that when I do kick the bucket then the Big Guy will be waiting for me with a box of macaroons. He'd probably even make them himself and I'm sure they'll be the most delicious ones I've ever tasted. You see the thing about macaroons is that

a) they're expensive; ground almonds, real vanilla, real chocolate, a ridiculous number of eggs all of these things really aren't that cheap.
b) they're temperamental; if you beat the egg whites a little too hard then they'll collapse or if you incorrectly measure the amount of icing sugar then they'll probably end up looking like chewy, stretchy bubblegum cookies.
c) They take an eternity to perfect. Hence why the Big Guy would be so good at making them...

Macaroons are definitely the kind of thing you can't decide to make on a whim. That's what I did when I first used Nigella Lawson's pistachio macaroon recipe. I ended up guilt eating the entire batch of gungy macaroons. They still tasted good but I was left thinking that I really shouldn't have skim read the entire recipe...

After that 'experience' then I decided to enlist the help of a master to show me the ropes. Today my darling friend took me through the steps to making a good macaroon and that they really can't be underestimated. As soon as you let your guard down the BAM the egg whites collapse or BAM there's egg yolk in the whites or BAM you've got a square macaroon. It's a very stressful exercise and I think that once you've perfected making macaroons being a security guard would be a cinch.

I'll post the recipe that I used above soon but at the moment I'm off to bed so I'll leave you with a youtube video as a consolation prize.

Lost her Phone

I'm an optimist. I always like to believe the best in people. So I kept telling myself that my cell phone was 'lost' rather than 'stolen'. See I kept on thinking to myself that noone would want to steal my phone. It's a rather crappy old one after all. The phone has sentimental value more than anything else. I wanted my phone back so I even sent my phone a text saying that I was willing to pay a $20 ransom. I know the police say that you should never 'negotiate with kidnappers/phone nappers'. But I just really wanted my phone back. I actually thought that would work.

Look, I have a simple philosophy. Most of the time people do the right thing. If I was the person who'd found my phone I know exactly what the 'right thing' would've been. To begin with I would've answered one of the million times when the owner rang the phone. If they didn't call their phone then I would've gone to the person that the phone had contacted. Then I would've called that person and told them that I'd found their friends lost phone. The important point here is that I would've returned the phone. If I didn't then I would've felt simply horrible about it. Plus there's always the good karma benefit. Unfortunately my phone-napper was heartless.

Now I'm rendered phone-less. I'm so used to it that it's almost as if someone decided to hack off my index fingers. I keep on wondering about how anyone managed twenty years ago without cell phones. Whenever I want to hang out with someone/assure my mother that I'm still alive then I flick off a text message. I no longer have that convenience. So instead I've had resort to old school land line calling. That's improving social relationships according to Dr. Phil. Hmm...Well at least I'm improving my relationship with their answer phones  Although I must admit that I do actually appreciate my current cell phone free state. It means that I'm saving hours in my day. No longer am I spending precious minutes checking my phone, which inevitably won't have any new messages anyway or spending hours hunting for my misplaced cell phone. In an attempt to be all happy and glass half full-y then I have to say that although that filthy criminal stole my phone he gave me the gift of time. Cheers mate. Although I'd also like $100 for a new phone.

Song Addiction
Ships in the Night - Mat Kearney
 

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One girl who gardens

'When one of my plants dies, I die a little inside, too.' - Linda Solegato

Todays big activity was starting my new herb garden. I've grown plants before. I remember I had a swan plant once upon a time although I rather lost interest when the one monarch caterpillar that lived on it turned into a butterfly. Then there was the time that I had a basil plant in a pot until I kind of used up a little bit too many of the leaves. They were so delicious, but unfortunately that meant that it died. This time I've vowed to pay attention to my new herb garden. I shall water it every day, prune the leaves neatly and keep it alive for at least three years.

The entire reason behind my garden is that I'm a student living in a flat this year. That means that I can hardly afford buy fresh herbs for my exotic cooking. Unfortunately as my cousin told me 'you've got champagne tastes on a beer diet.' Something's inevitably going to give. My herb garden is my way of making sure that that doesn't happen to be my bank balance. One early birthday present should ensure that I have delicious herbs indefinitely.

How can I be so sure of this? Well I've decided to treat my herbs as children, since I don't have any children I think that's perfectly okay. My theory is that the reason children manage to grow so big and tall isn't because of genetics but rather the ridiculous amount of food and love they receive. My theory is that a persons height is directly correlated to the amount of love that their parents gave them. That makes sense since Kim Jong Il was only 160cm. He wasn't a very nice person, so his parents didn't give him enough love and so he wasn't very tall! Whereas by comparison Nelson Mandela who was a wonderful fellow is 1.93 m, nice and tall because of lots of love.

So I'll parent my plants so they grow nice and tall. First step of parenting is naming. My plants from left to right in their little rectangle pot are Pablo (Parsley), Benjamin (Basil), Millicent (Mint) and Tally (Thyme). I decided to keep the male and female plants separate so I wouldn't get any hanky panky/cross pollination action. Then I'll feed the children, which is what every good parent should do. All sounding rather good? I'll make sure that they don't spend all of their time watching TV and go outside every so often to get some sunlight. Oh and I guess I'll have to read to them too. You know grow their minds as well? Wait do plants have brains? That's a big question which opens a rather philosophical door that I really don't want to open.

I've now introduced you to my herb garden which I'll probably write about incessantly (like every other annoying parent) and with whom I'll probably grow to have an unhealthy attachment. What can I say? I'm single.

Song Obsession
I think this song really sums up the last two episodes of 'Chuck' and most importantly the Charah dynamic. Fark I'm going to miss that show.
The Scientist - Coldplay

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Waste - Foster the People

A very smart girlie told me one of her observations. She said ‘did you notice we do most of our living in the first half of our lives? I mean having children, travelling, getting jobs it all happens before you’re fifty years old. So what do we do with the rest of our lives?’

I think that I have a superpower. It’s horribly corny but I’ll write it anyway because I think it’s one of my more inspired thoughts. I have the super power of youth. It’s the reason for the disparity between the living that goes on during our youth compared to the rest of our lives. When we’re young then life has an infinite supply of energy. We’re speeding from activity to adventure and back again, collecting curious anecdotes as we go.

All young people are super heroes and we have to make the clichéd choice between using our powers for ‘good’ or ‘evil’, being a ‘hero’ or ‘villain’. Naturally our parents try to steer us towards the ‘hero’ direction but in every epic tale there comes a moment when Dumbledore’s no longer looking over their shoulder. Instead we have to decide for ourselves. There are the people who decide to spend their youth abandoning those morals. It may be through common crimes that come with a tangible sentence or manipulation and abuse that come with abstract consequences. Eventually they have to come down from the high. Their super power is gone, the energy left in the tank is finite and they have to question their ‘good time’.

Adults (I use the term not to define an age bracket but to define a group of people past their superhero prime) use the term ‘wasted youth’ far too often. They stare at ‘today’s generation’ with judgemental looks and warning glances. But to be completely honest those two words used in conjunction are my main fear. What if I look back in ten years time only to think to myself ‘I could’ve done so much more’? These years are meant to be the best; we can sleep in until noon without anyone hounding us about being pathetic or lazy, we can stay out all night and make it through the next day without a nap and best of all we can say all of our dreams out loud without people responding with scepticism. Really I think it’s the prospect of having regrets that I fear.

So, I’m trying to appreciate my youth. I don’t drink too much and I don’t think that a packet of cigarettes and some potato chips is really a substitute for breakfast. I want to be in good physical shape so I can keep on having wonderful heroic adventures. Hopefully I can look back on these adventures with a sense of pride one day rather than regret. I can’t keep on using the excuse of time to not live fully. One day when I’m sitting around in the retirement home playing bridge it’s going to be these stories that I’m making today, tomorrow and next week that I’ll be telling. I don’t want to have any regrets.

Oh and I've been reading 'One Day'. That book has inspired my thinking. It really is amazing.

One girl who hates chart toppers

This summer I worked in a factory for three hundred hours with the radio playing. It served as a constant reminder of how monotonous my work could be. I know listening to music is meant to break the monotony but the person who said that obviously hasn't heard 'We Found Love' by Rhianna. Yes, I liked it the first time I heard it. Okay and the second. But when I heard it for the fifth or sixth time I started to learn the lyrics and then WHAM it hit me. There really is only one lyric. 'We found love in a hopeless place'. Yup. Granted they mix up the backing beats but other than that it's just Rhianna singing the same line sixteen times in the space of three minutes thirty seven seconds. Yeah that really makes work monotonous. Of course it didn't help that 'We found love' (yeah the fact that I've already written we found love about three times is kind of getting me annoyed..) happened to be played on average six times a day. It started to grate. It wasn't the only song that was repeated on the radio every hour or so. 'Sexy and I know it' was common as was 'The One that Got Away' and 'Good Feeling' and 'Feel so close'. I think those four songs pretty much made up 'the Edge's' entire playlist. Anyway after listening to the chart toppers for so long I think I've figured out the formula to a chart topper which I thought I'd share with you.

1. A really annoying base sound. It's got to follow a nice and simple beat as well so even the unco's can dance to it.

like this..

2. Include the word 'love' and a phrase about her/him and loving her/him/them.
3. Include a  rap dude rapping really blatantly about sex. 
like 'First date, first base; second date, second base;
Third date, you're looking at me funny, you got a hard shell but the middle’s so yummy'.

4. Have the entire song sung by a really attractive/really slutty girl like...

this girl 

<-or this girl

5. Include really scantily clad girls in the music video. Obviously 4 and 5 are to appeal to the male demographic cause the music industry doesn't think that they have ears only eyes...

6. Feature another artist. Who's preferably more famous than you are... It means that you get to do less work and all of their die hard fans will listen to your song. I'm thinking Calvin Harris?

7. Repeat the name of the song about a thousand times throughout the song so everyone knows the name of the song and so they can remember it when they have to buy it.

8. Include directions in your lyrics. Apparently people can't think of their own dance moves so have to be told to 'put their hands up' or 'move' or to 'do the wiggle dance'. 

9. To finish it all off remember to include tonnes of repetition and if possible lyrics that objectify women.

Yeah, I'm not the greatest fan of pop music. Mainly cause most of it sounds like someone hitting their head against a wall, oh no wait a second it's just that every time I listen to it I start hitting my head against the wall in frustration. Oh but the actual reason is that the radio destroys every song for me. I mean hearing a song twenty times in the space of three days will kind of do that.

One girl who.... bled?

As of late people have been staring at my nails with a look of disdain. You see I’m a proud advocate for incredible looking nails. They should be well shaped, even and painted with a smooth layer of nail polish that compliments ones outfit. My nails at the moment? Well let’s put it this way if I were to personify them then they’d be the crazy lady on street wearing an odd collection of clothes that she’s found with hair that hasn’t been brushed this decade. Yeah, they’re that bad.

The reason for their terrible state is all because of a block of Gouda. Yes, Gouda. I decided that I wanted to spoil myself so incredibly stupidly I decided to hack into a block of Gouda with a rather large knife. Time seemed to slow down as I saw the knife slide from the block of Gouda to my finger and then as I saw the knife dig a deep cut alongside my nail. I didn’t scream out in agony, instead I was fascinated by the amount of blood that was pouring out of my wound. Usually it stops after a moment but my finger kept on bleeding. So the fact that I almost chopped off my finger has meant that I'm now sporting a sexy sticking plaster.

Back to the present day.

I walked into National Bank to deposit a cheque. Suddenly my finger slipped and blood was gushing out of my finger. Of course me being me I continued on with my errand ‘excuse me, could I please bank a cheque?’ I asked the nearest operator. He was staring at my blood covered fingers. Obviously shocked. ‘Oh and can I please have a tissue?’ He rushed away looking a little shell shocked. I then explained that I had a cheque to cash while I pressed the tissue onto my finger and tried to clean up the blood off of my hand. He tried to make small talk while I struggled with my bleeding hand. I almost made a joke about ‘ha ha I guess most of the time people are bleeding money at the bank not bleeding blood’. Although that would have been really lame so I’m glad I didn’t do that. Instead he just grabbed my eftpos out of my wallet made the transaction and stared as I tried to sign a piece of paper and quell the bleeding. I then gathered up my bags and went to leave when he stopped me ‘would you like to take the entire box of tissues?’ I think he thought I was mad to be continuing on my way with my hand bleeding like that. Anyway I politely declined and continued walking.

The message from that. My finger didn’t hurt it just bled. So just because something looks bad it doesn’t mean that you have to take it at face value. It’s best just to not freak out.

A firetruck at McDonalds?

I recently bought myself a rather fancy looking camera. It's called a digital SLR camera and it's become my brand new best friend, sorry human best friend. It's been inspiring me to take lots of photos and look for lots of photos to take. The issue is that as soon as I take out my camera to take an interesting photo say of a cool building then immediately people start lifting their hands to their faces or look at me like I'm a creepy stalker or tell me 'oh please don't take my photo'. It makes practicing for my future life as an amateur photographer rather difficult. I mean honestly why are people so very suspicious of a photographer? Back in the olden days I'm sure painters didn't get quite so much of a bad rep.

Anyway so today I bought one of the new McFlurries from McDonalds (terrible substitute for the good old malteaser ones...) with a friend. We were then sitting outside enjoying our McFlurries (since we're far too classy to hang out inside McDonalds during the daytime, and when we're sober) when we heard a fire alarm. Everyone rushed outside of McDonalds and we began joking to ourselves about the fact that the fire alarm went off just as we walked outside. In no time at all there was quite a crowd gathering outside of McDonalds. We continued joking 'ha ha we're the arsons just hanging out outside watching the building burn to the ground'. Then the fire trucks arrived and we stopped joking... Didn't want to be incriminating ourselves. Okay now before you wonder if anyone was hurt in the fire I have to tell you that there wasn't a fire just a false alarm. The point of this little ramble is to tell y'all that I probably should've taken photos of this experience. If there had been a fire I would've been snapping away. I mean I could've sold those to TVNZ and then I'd be famous in no time but somehow it just wasn't extraordinary enough. People kind of view photos as special. In order to waste time taking a photo then it needs to be something really incredible and unusual. Otherwise you just get weird looks. Hmm, so then I'm still on the quest for an amazing unusual photo I guess.

Oh and I'll try really hard to take a postable photo tomorrow!

Song Obsession

I heard this a while back and I can't quite figure out where...
Can you Tell - Ra Ra Riot

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