rainbowtatt

I have so much to tell you (like how the internet is suddenly more awesome), but I’m exhausted, it’s way past my bedtime and I have to share this with you first:

Yes, that’s me with THE Peter Garrett. He was nearby at a function I was at tonight and popped in to say hi. Seriously! When I see you next I’ll tell you all the goss.

This was the chaos on Enmore Road this arvo:

Wouldn’t it be terrifying for people who live above shops just like this one? People who are dealing with a deteriorating exterior wall that the landlords haven’t fixed in the 18 months that they’ve been receiving complaints about said exterior wall. The wall that leaks into the loungeroom when it rains.

It must be hard for those poor sods who stand on the street to take a photo like this wondering if this is some sort of omen of what could happen to them, but with a bit more broken wall scattered all over the road.

I’ve almost reached the point where I can’t watch the news. I can’t deal with the devastation of the bushfires down in Victoria.

Grown men sobbing like babies.

KRudd all emotional

Scenes like this:

I shudder at the thought of the horror those people have been through. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.

I’ve read some digusting things implying that bushfires are God’s way of showing his anger at abortion/gay marriage/etc and it leaves me speechless. If God does these things in spite of human kind, then God’s a dud, pure and simple.

This week one of my family’s life-long friends passed away.

I’ve known Rad virtually all my life; he and his wife, Maureen, ran the service station down the road from our Drive In in my home town of Grafton. My earliest memories are of popping into the servo and seeing Rad dashing out from the shop to fill up our car – wearing just a pair of thongs and white shorts.

When dad’s cancer got really bad and we gave up the Drive In, Rad and Maureen bought it as their retirement property. Even though the Drive In itself had to close, knowing that the property was in the hands of people who understood how important that place was to us was a source of comfort for me. The Drive In was the one place of my childhood that I cherished the most.

We moved to Sydney after dad died and we didn’t make very many trips back to Grafton. As the years went on, contact with Rad and Maureen was less frequent, usually no more than a Christmas card every year.

Three years ago Dan and I went on a holiday up to Coffs Harbour and we made a day trip to Grafton to see the town I hadn’t seen in over 15 years. By no deliberate planning of ours, we ended up being in Grafton on the 20th anniversary of dad’s death.

That day, we spent the afternoon at the Drive In with Rad and Maureen. We saw how they honoured the Drive In while converting the main building into their home. The waves of concrete and gravel covered up with grass and dirt; the cement footings from where the screen used to be still visible amongst the bushes. The projection room still with its tilted window facing out to where the screen used to be. They showed us a folder of dad’s newspaper clippings and paperwork that we’d left behind when we moved away, still in their original folder and stored away safely all these years.

For me, that day was the beginning of what has since been a renewal for me. Of remembering who I am, where I’ve come from and most importantly, remembering my dad as the passionate person he was. Dad died a month after my 8th birthday and most of my memories of him are tainted by what the cancer had turned him into.

Before we left the Drive In that day, Rad showed us his collection of woodwork. Of bowls and plates and wine holders he’d made with old trees and fence pailings from the property. He let me take home this clock, made from a cross-section of jacaranda tree that had grown on the grounds of the Drive In, the place that I love the most.

So when mum rang to tell me that Rad died, first thing I did was stand in the kitchen and look at our clock. The clock that represents so much of my past and what matters most to me. I cried for what my family had lost, for another lost connection to dad.

And I remembered how lucky my family was to have someone like Rad. He was one in a million.

So in the last week or so I’ve gone back to work, decided to try to get into freelance work properly, spent $200 at Ikea and avoided housework as much as possible.

Here’s what the last 9 days have been like on the Twitter 365 challenge:

1. 26/365: doing the karen cheng in the new ikea mirror, 2. 25/365: RAH!, 3. 24/365: it’s hot, don’t talk to me, 4. 23/365: heatwave, 5. 22/365: my getting-ready-for-work face, 6. 21/365: my mouth is full, 7. 20/365: preventing a wardrobe malfunction, 8. 19/365: finally homeward bound, 9. 18/365: clinging onto the last moments of holiday-mode

And the phoney 365 challenge:

1. 26/365: leap of faith, 2. 24/365: my pet pirahna, 3. 23/365: elvis checking i’m not taking him to the vet, 4. 22/365: things made of plastic, 5. 21/365: inappropriate use of v for vendetta mask, 6. 20/365: work, 7. 19/365: barefoot after wearing heels all day, 8. 18/365: elvis clinging onto the last of the christmas tree, 9. 17/365: that’s a bloody long massage!

So yes, I’ve decided to try things properly with my creative bits in web design, etc. Not that I’m a legend in that department, but I know I can do a damn lot better than some other stuff out there! Hard to believe that people charge for the technicolour yawns they call a site design.

Has it really been just over 2 weeks? Feels like forever!

1. 16/365: Bear on patrol, 2. 15/365: taking photo of bikini girl diguised as taking photo of friend’s baby, 3. 14/365: personal infomercial for my vaccum cleaner, 4. 13/365: where i demonstrate why my cats misbehave, 5. 11/365: lunch @ Bank’s Thai; best massaman beef in sydney for only $8!!!, 6. 12/365: killing the earth by driving into the city, 7. 10/365: babycake leftovers, 8. 9/365: companion, 9. 8/365: damn flowers, 10. 7/365: size matters, 11. 6/365: icy poles = awesome, 12. 5/365: better in the dark, 13. 4/365: Elvis’ red friend, 14. 3/365: stories

Something Manda twittered this morning reminded me of what happened on the train from Newtown to Central on Monday:

Getting on the train at Newtown: chick with suitcase twice as heavy as she is gets help from a bloke to lift the suitcase onto the train

Getting off the train at Central: same chick gets no help from the handful of men beside her waiting to get off the train; in the end I helped her to lift the suitcase onto the platform. The nearby men were long gone before the chick even had a chance to thank me.

Remember that day I went to Cupcakes on Pitt and absolutely hated it?

You see, that day wasn’t completely wasted. Leigh and her friends took me to Max Brenner, the shop full of chocolatey awesomeness. I had a thick white hot chocolate, a hot choc of quality and awesomness not tasted since I was in the UK last year*. Seriously, this is a damn good hot chocolate that should be consumed by all and sundry.

But even better than the white hot choc (I know, is this even possible?!) was the mini cheesecake:

This cheesecake was AMAZING. Just the right amount of chocolate on top to complement the best cheesecake I have ever, ever eaten. Just looking at this photo I am transported back to that cafe and I can forget that I ever ate those crappy cupcakes from Cupcakes on Pitt.

This is where I’m going for my birthday this year. Turning 31 is reason enough for me.

* I am so glad that I can still say that I was in the UK last year; doesn’t make it seem as though it was a lifetime ago (even though it was, dammit)

Oh hai!

My name’s rah and I finally got my hair done today:

Half head of foils and a trim courtesy of Natasha at Strawberry Snips in Enmore. First time I’d been back since Tanya sold off the business last year and I’ve come away very very happy :o)

For those curious souls, this cost me $165, which is about right for this area. BUT! I have a funky membership card that collects 10% of credit with every visit to use on future hair remodelling projects.

LOVE. LOVE. LOVE.

Kudos to the Nikon remote, too – the new must-have tool for self-portraits!

If you haven’t been to Cupcakes on Pitt and have been wanting to – DON’T.

That is, unless you’re planning on being disappointed (like I was).

I’ve been strangely curious about Cupcakes on Pitt; more than a handful of friends have had half-hearted opinions of their wares and I’ve been debating for a long time if I wanted to find out for myself. But the very brave Leigh took me to the Parramatta Cupcakes on Pitt store.

I’ve never been to the Bondi store or the flagship store in the city so don’t know if it’s the norm to not have any decent seating, but I was surprised that there were only about 4 barstools in the shop, and no tables.

While I was choosing which 2 cupcakes to buy, the woman behind the counter kept yelling flavours at me. It was like I was in the middle of Paddy’s Markets or walking through Kings Cross. At least the prices were down to $2.00 from the original $3.50. All the cupcakes looked impressive but I managed to decide to buy a lemon meringue and a passionfruit.

I have to give credit to the packaging; my little bundle of cupcakes made it home in one piece after being lugged around multiple laps of Parramatta Westfield.

The cakes themselves were dry and plain. The passionfruit icing was fake-tasting and the meringue was rubbery. The nicest part was the tiny amount of lemon under the meringue.

Overall, a thoroughly disappointing experience. If you’re looking for a nice cupcake cafe in Sydney, then Cupcakes on Pitt is not the place you’re looking for!