What did I have for dinner last night? A cup of tea and a cupcake. Ok - two cupcakes.
What did I have for breakfast? Two pieces of white toast and a very sugary cup of tea.
What will I buy on my way to work? A hot dog from my favourite bakery.
For lunch? Subway if I'm really good, but most likely McD's.
Dinner tonight is out of my control, as I'll have to eat whatever is at work. Which is never healthy.
It usually consists of lots of potato, next to no veges and gravy of some sort.
I have a pantry full of all this weird healthy grain stuff. Quinoa, hulled millet, linseed, pumpkin seeds.. I never eat any of it. But I had good intentions when I bought it.
Hmmm... gotta run, my hotdog man is calling my name.
Monday 4 April 2011
Saturday 2 April 2011
Along came a spider...
I was given a topic. And so here it is. Spiders are creepy. They are ugly and they have 8 legs. Anything with more than 4 legs is just showing off. Heck, I think even four legs is sometimes two too many.
But the worst kind of spiders are the big, fat, hairy-legged kind. Why does the fact that you can see it's hairy legs make it more creepy? Imagine these same legs, minus the hair - suddenly, not so gross.
And so I move on to the actual issue here, which is not spiders - it's hairy legs. Take a gorgeous woman, add hairy legs and BAM! Nobody wants to tap that...
Case in point... Hmmm, she's pretty bone-worthy, right?
Wait a second....
But the worst kind of spiders are the big, fat, hairy-legged kind. Why does the fact that you can see it's hairy legs make it more creepy? Imagine these same legs, minus the hair - suddenly, not so gross.
Case in point... Hmmm, she's pretty bone-worthy, right?
 |
| Iryna Shayk looking fine |
Wait a second....
 |
| Iryna Shayk's hairy legs |
Imagine having those pins wrapped around your waist. (Not that I have D-list celebrities wrapping their legs around my waist...just sayin') OH, and this girl has freakishly light coloured leg hair. I feel I should also dispel the crazy rumours that women are happy to shave their legs.
Ads like these are designed to make is seem like an enjoyable task, whilst also promoting the unfair ideal that smooth legs = sexy:
And so here I am on a gorgeous Sunday contemplating my options. I have come up with these three thus far:
1. Shave my legs - get laid tonight
2. Embrace my inner hairy spider, lie on my (king) bed and read a trashy book - don't get laid tonight.
3. Embrace inner hairy spider, lie on aforementioned bed with my laptop and a glass of wine (it's almost 1:30pm...) - get laid tonight if I share my wine.
I'm leaning towards option 2, as I'm not one for sharing. Oh, and thank God I only have 2 legs... no wonder spiders don't shave....
Making babies.
Wanting something that you can't just go out and buy (unless you are Angelina Jolie) can cause a great deal of emotional turmoil.
But why. I've read that it's just a biology thing. We are here to procreate, and for the most part, that's exactly what we do. But not everybody CAN make babies. And not everybody WANTS to make babies. But why is it that those who DO want to, sometimes can't? Now I'm not suggesting for one moment that my ovaries are shrivelled little pebbles and I'm just a sad, barren housewife. I am not.
It just seems to me that often times it's those who are least capable and least willing to be parents who are the ones procreating at lightning speed.
I just don't understand why I want a baby. I don't get it at all.
I don't want to get fat(ter), I don't want my boobs to become deflated pancakes, and I don't want my sleep to be interrupted. I don't want to change nappies. I don't want my "free time" to become a thing of the past and I don't want to deal with tantrums, head lice and lost school uniforms. I don't want to deal with teenagers and I do NOT want to deal with unworthy girlfriends/boyfriends. Because, you know, nobody will be good enough for my child.
So why DO I want a child? I've heard people want to procreate for selfish reasons - yet I've just listed ten perfectly selfish reasons NOT to have a child. Yet I still do. So much that it pains me to even think about it.
When somebody discovers the reason for this absurd desire, please let me know. With all these reasons not to have a child, you would be forgiven for thinking that it's the last thing in the world that I would want. Yet it's not. It's mind-boggling. And heart-breaking.
But why. I've read that it's just a biology thing. We are here to procreate, and for the most part, that's exactly what we do. But not everybody CAN make babies. And not everybody WANTS to make babies. But why is it that those who DO want to, sometimes can't? Now I'm not suggesting for one moment that my ovaries are shrivelled little pebbles and I'm just a sad, barren housewife. I am not.
It just seems to me that often times it's those who are least capable and least willing to be parents who are the ones procreating at lightning speed.
I just don't understand why I want a baby. I don't get it at all.
I don't want to get fat(ter), I don't want my boobs to become deflated pancakes, and I don't want my sleep to be interrupted. I don't want to change nappies. I don't want my "free time" to become a thing of the past and I don't want to deal with tantrums, head lice and lost school uniforms. I don't want to deal with teenagers and I do NOT want to deal with unworthy girlfriends/boyfriends. Because, you know, nobody will be good enough for my child.
So why DO I want a child? I've heard people want to procreate for selfish reasons - yet I've just listed ten perfectly selfish reasons NOT to have a child. Yet I still do. So much that it pains me to even think about it.
When somebody discovers the reason for this absurd desire, please let me know. With all these reasons not to have a child, you would be forgiven for thinking that it's the last thing in the world that I would want. Yet it's not. It's mind-boggling. And heart-breaking.
Cupcakes, chasing dreams and the city
The title of this blog pretty much describes my life. How? Well, you see - cupcakes are my escape. Pretty, delicate little cupcakes or big, chunky thigh-attacking ones. Cupcakes take me to a special place.
Chasing dreams. Ok, I lied about the chasing part. I'm pretty good at creating the most perfect world within the confines of my own mind. But it's the chasing of such dreams which seems to be my biggest hurdle.
Be a bartender in London, own a cupcake shop, run a boutique in France, travel Europe... HECK, tidy my room would be a great start!
Hmm.. effort required... inability to follow through kicking in.... and such is my life.
So here I am. In a small town - wait what?! Ok, that right there. Small town. Really?
Ugh, there is nothing less appealing to me than small towns. I fail to see ANY plus side to small towns. Except that in this one, I happen to have a husband and family. So ok, I'll stay.
But honestly, the city is where my heart really lies. Stinky pollution, stand-still traffic, noisy construction sites, sense of invisibility = my idea of heaven.
So this, essentially, is my life.
I read books about cupcakes, I make cupcakes and then I eat said cupcakes. I dream about the big, bad world and what it has to offer me. And I pine for my dear, beloved city (any city will do, but Brisbane is my first true love).
Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't exchange my life for another. Not ever. But let's just say that somewhere, there is an empty little shop sitting in the middle of a bustling inner-city suburb with my name on it, just waiting for me to turn it into my special little cupcake shop.
Chasing dreams. Ok, I lied about the chasing part. I'm pretty good at creating the most perfect world within the confines of my own mind. But it's the chasing of such dreams which seems to be my biggest hurdle.
Be a bartender in London, own a cupcake shop, run a boutique in France, travel Europe... HECK, tidy my room would be a great start!
Hmm.. effort required... inability to follow through kicking in.... and such is my life.
So here I am. In a small town - wait what?! Ok, that right there. Small town. Really?
Ugh, there is nothing less appealing to me than small towns. I fail to see ANY plus side to small towns. Except that in this one, I happen to have a husband and family. So ok, I'll stay.
But honestly, the city is where my heart really lies. Stinky pollution, stand-still traffic, noisy construction sites, sense of invisibility = my idea of heaven.
So this, essentially, is my life.
I read books about cupcakes, I make cupcakes and then I eat said cupcakes. I dream about the big, bad world and what it has to offer me. And I pine for my dear, beloved city (any city will do, but Brisbane is my first true love).
Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't exchange my life for another. Not ever. But let's just say that somewhere, there is an empty little shop sitting in the middle of a bustling inner-city suburb with my name on it, just waiting for me to turn it into my special little cupcake shop.
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