tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43873261930166078472024-03-05T23:38:20.982-08:00Random shit, Chez!Random shit that appeals to Chez.BusiChichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15432506746005981363noreply@blogger.comBlogger65125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4387326193016607847.post-80349906169616903242016-01-27T23:58:00.001-08:002016-02-13T19:07:21.217-08:00My Foodie Bucket List 2016<div style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', 'Bitstream Charter', Times, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 36.036px;">
Gosh it's been forever since I've blogged here and a while since I've blogged over at <a href="http://businesschic.com.au/" target="_blank">BusinessChic</a>. Actually that's not quite right- I have been micro-blogging all this time over on my personal Instagram (<a data-mce-href="http://www.instagram.com/busichic" href="http://www.instagram.com/busichic" target="_blank">busichic</a>) and even just joined Snapchat (CherylLRodsted and BusinessChic)! That said I'm feeling ready to start posting here again and to get the ball rolling, I'm going to do as I encourage my <a data-mce-href="http://www.writerscentre.com.au/courses/blogging-social-media/" href="http://www.writerscentre.com.au/courses/blogging-social-media/" target="_blank">Blogging for Beginners</a> students and <em>blog about something I'm passionate about</em>.</div>
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And that, dear BusiChic - is food, glorious food!</div>
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Here in Auckland, I've connected with a bunch of NZ bloggers who today introduced me to <em><a data-mce-href="http://bunnyeatsdesign.com/foodie-bucket-list/" href="http://bunnyeatsdesign.com/foodie-bucket-list/" target="_blank">Bunny Eats Design's Foodie Bucket List</a></em> which has inspired a few of us to create our own. So here is mine!</div>
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<li>Expand our repertoire of quick-to-make and tasty after-work dinners with leftovers for lunch. #wemadeyum || <a href="http://wemadeyum.blogspot.co.nz/2016/02/i-made-marion-grasbys-duck-laab-salad.html" target="_blank">Marion Grasby's Duck Laab Salad</a> |</li>
<li>Pre-make quick and tasty meals to have for lunch at work. I have already pinned a bunch of ideas from <a data-mce-href="http://www.goodfood.com.au/good-food/cook/aggregate/work-lunches-20140106-30ci7.html" href="http://www.goodfood.com.au/good-food/cook/aggregate/work-lunches-20140106-30ci7.html" target="_blank">Good Food's list of 39 Work Lunches</a>.<div class="mceTemp">
<dl class="wp-caption aligncenter" data-mce-style="width: 607px;" id="attachment_22947" style="-webkit-user-drag: none; margin: 0px auto; max-width: 100%; width: 607px;">
<dt class="wp-caption-dt" style="-webkit-user-drag: none;"><a data-mce-href="http://businesschic.com.au/?attachment_id=22947" href="http://businesschic.com.au/?attachment_id=22947" rel="attachment wp-att-22947" style="-webkit-user-drag: none;"><img alt="2015 attempt at "instant noodles" in a jar. I learnt that boiling water and the old pickle jars I'd hoped to reuse were not a good match. Stay tuned for a more detailed post on "lunch in a jar" in future!" class="size-full wp-image-22947" data-mce-src="http://businesschic.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2016/01/busichic-instant-noodle-jar.png" src="http://businesschic.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2016/01/busichic-instant-noodle-jar.png" height="598" style="-webkit-user-drag: none; display: block; height: auto; max-width: 100%;" width="597" /></a></dt>
<dd class="wp-caption-dd" style="-webkit-user-drag: none; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; padding-top: 0.5em;">2015 attempt at "instant noodles" in a jar. I learnt that boiling water and the old pickle jars I'd hoped to reuse were not a good match. Stay tuned for a more detailed post on "lunch in a jar" in future!</dd></dl>
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<li>Have a meat-free meal at least once a week, if not more.</li>
<li>During the summer, make quick, tasty and healthy breakfast smoothies Make some of them green - love this handy <a data-mce-href="http://gastronomel.com.au/2012/04/13/green-smoothies-local-and-delicious/" href="http://gastronomel.com.au/2012/04/13/green-smoothies-local-and-delicious/" target="_blank">Green Smoothies guide by GastronoMel</a>.</li>
<li>BBQ with confidence - no more under or overcooking!</li>
<li>Host a garden party in our backyard.</li>
<li>Make our own cheese. Halloumi, brie, blue, ricotta. <em>Thanks for the reminder from your <a data-mce-href="http://theenthusiasticcook.com/2016/01/24/my-2016-foodie-bucket-list/" href="http://theenthusiasticcook.com/2016/01/24/my-2016-foodie-bucket-list/" target="_blank">Foodie Bucket List, The Enthusiastic Cook!</a></em></li>
<li><del>Grow our own herbs and veggies</del> Ongoing!</li>
<li>Grow zucchini. Make stuffed zucchini flowers using homegrown zucs and ricotta I made myself.</li>
<li>Pickle the green tomatoes a la Merryfoot.</li>
<li>Get our ferment on - pickles and root vegetables!</li>
<li>Fix our compost. It's full but I don't think it's working right!</li>
<li>Remember that smashed peas on toast are a refreshing alternative to creamy smashed avo. </li>
<li>Go mushrooming!!! Learn the skills to 'shroom hunt on our own. Make mushroom soup.</li>
<li><del>Pick cherries in the Marlborough.</del> Save enough to make cherry jam.</li>
<li><del>Cook French toast with caramelised banana and berry compote a la Milford Sound Lodge. </del> <a data-mce-href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BAVUMW4vAXZ/?taken-by=busichic" href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BAVUMW4vAXZ/?taken-by=busichic" target="_blank">Instagrammed!</a></li>
<li><span style="line-height: 36.036px;">Eat more Bluff oysters when they're in season. Heck learn more about the amazing seafood here in NZ! #onlyinNZ</span></li>
<li><div class="mceTemp">
<dl class="wp-caption aligncenter" data-mce-style="width: 609px;" id="attachment_22948" style="-webkit-user-drag: none; margin: 0px auto; max-width: 100%; width: 609px;">
<dt class="wp-caption-dt" style="-webkit-user-drag: none;"><a data-mce-href="http://businesschic.com.au/?attachment_id=22948" href="http://businesschic.com.au/?attachment_id=22948" rel="attachment wp-att-22948" style="-webkit-user-drag: none;"><img alt="In Maori, "Kai" means food and "koura" means crayfish, so when in Kaikoura you have to try the local crayfish! We went to the popular Nin's Bin which overlooks the ocean. " class="size-full wp-image-22948" data-mce-src="http://businesschic.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2016/01/busichic-kaikoura-nins-bin-crayfish.png" src="http://businesschic.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2016/01/busichic-kaikoura-nins-bin-crayfish.png" height="600" style="-webkit-user-drag: none; display: block; height: auto; max-width: 100%;" width="599" /></a></dt>
<dd class="wp-caption-dd" style="-webkit-user-drag: none; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; padding-top: 0.5em;">In Maori, "Kai" means food and "koura" means crayfish, so when in Kaikoura you have to try the local crayfish! We enjoyed ours at <a data-mce-href="https://www.tripadvisor.co.nz/Restaurant_Review-g255374-d1978588-Reviews-Nin_s_Bin-Kaikoura_Canterbury_Region_South_Island.html" href="https://www.tripadvisor.co.nz/Restaurant_Review-g255374-d1978588-Reviews-Nin_s_Bin-Kaikoura_Canterbury_Region_South_Island.html" style="-webkit-user-drag: none;" target="_blank">Nin's Bin</a> which overlooks the ocean.</dd></dl>
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<li>Learn to shuck oysters. Bags of oysters are so cheap here, it'd be fiscally-irresponsible to not try and learn! #onlyinNZ // thanks for the inspiration, Carly @ The Enthusiastic Cook.</li>
<li><strike>Make our own pork rillettes like the beauty we had at Cloudy Bay winery over Christmas.</strike> <a href="http://wemadeyum.blogspot.co.nz/2016/02/how-i-used-pressure-cooker-to-make-pork.html" target="_blank">How I used the pressure cooker to make pork rillettes in under 2 hours</a></li>
<li>Make Aunt Susan's Orange Syrup Cake. First, find the recipe.</li>
<li>Make chowder.</li>
<li>Make a pie for dinner.</li>
<li>Make Myong-dong-style Kul-guk-su. I got hooked on this when we lived in South Korea- twenty years later I still get cravings for it.</li>
<li>Eat at least one bowl of <a data-mce-href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Ph%E1%BB%9F-Ch%C3%BA-Th%E1%BB%83-Richmond/606444762802225" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Ph%E1%BB%9F-Ch%C3%BA-Th%E1%BB%83-Richmond/606444762802225" target="_blank">pho</a> (special beef, all of the bits - thanks!) and bahn mi (mixed hams, please!) every time I go to Melbourne. I've not been able to find a decent bowl in Auckland just yet so debating whether I want to learn to make this!</li>
<li>Master my favourite Melbourne dishes: recipe for <a data-mce-href="http://burpappetit.com/2014/03/11/recipe-pork-belly-with-apple-slaw-and-chilli-caramel/" href="http://burpappetit.com/2014/03/11/recipe-pork-belly-with-apple-slaw-and-chilli-caramel/" target="_blank">Red Spice Road's Pork Belly with Apple Slaw and Chilli Caramel</a>.</li>
<li>Find recipe to make <a href="http://www.misschu.com.au/" target="_blank">Miss Chu's</a> Prawn and Crab Net Spring Rolls. Obsessed.</li>
<li>Make Cumulus Inc's boudin noir OR tuna tartare with peas. I haven't decided which one yet. </li>
<li><span style="line-height: 36.036px;">Make pizza bases from scratch. Traditional and cauliflower bases.</span></li>
<li>Host a steam boat dinner.</li>
<li>Make a tasty dish using our masterstock at least once a month.</li>
<li>Try out (at least once) each entry on <a data-mce-href="http://www.metroeats.co.nz/cheap-eats/" href="http://www.metroeats.co.nz/cheap-eats/">Metro’s Best Cheaps Eats 2015</a> in the top 100 within 10 km of my home. <em>Thanks for this one from your <a data-mce-href="http://madicattt.nz/2016/01/25/foodie-bucket-list/" href="http://madicattt.nz/2016/01/25/foodie-bucket-list/" target="_blank">Foodie Bucket List, Madicattt</a>!</em></li>
<li>Go to Waiheke Island for an eating and winery visiting trip.</li>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi33mkCHGOYmWMbonJNh6DvgLSIKIQkYsSwi8CteT91HVEaEtD1pWoQ76Ntd8aBh_58PzrHD3K1Bz5U4uG5Hp7M6-9zau9hj-Amnx5IKVrqtXjIWFghY56dpcbNTAGhjpGYoeZcX1TacnzI/s1600/pinot+palooza+street+style+busichic.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="line-height: 36.036px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi33mkCHGOYmWMbonJNh6DvgLSIKIQkYsSwi8CteT91HVEaEtD1pWoQ76Ntd8aBh_58PzrHD3K1Bz5U4uG5Hp7M6-9zau9hj-Amnx5IKVrqtXjIWFghY56dpcbNTAGhjpGYoeZcX1TacnzI/s400/pinot+palooza+street+style+busichic.PNG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Street style photos I took at Melbourne's 2015 Pinot Palooza! </td></tr>
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<li><span style="line-height: 36.036px;">I'm going to mix in some work goals here because there is cross-over #dreamjob! Learn about Australian and New Zealand wines and try at least one wine from of all of the producers at </span><a data-mce-href="http://www.bottleshopconcepts.com/gameofrhones/" href="http://www.bottleshopconcepts.com/gameofrhones/" style="line-height: 36.036px;" target="_blank">Game of Rhones</a><span style="line-height: 36.036px;"> and </span><a data-mce-href="http://pinotpalooza.com.au/" href="http://pinotpalooza.com.au/" style="line-height: 36.036px;" target="_blank">Pinot Palooza</a><span style="line-height: 36.036px;"> NZ. </span></li>
<li>Try a new restaurant each time I go back to Melbourne instead of just going back to all of the favourites.</li>
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So that's my list! I anticipate I'll be updating it when I've ticked off some of these items or been inspired by others! </div>
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Do you have a Food Bucket List?</div>
BusiChichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15432506746005981363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4387326193016607847.post-5258885488689428312013-07-02T05:37:00.001-07:002013-12-19T18:59:55.540-08:00Do the monkeys in the Sacred Monkey Forest (Ubud, Bali) bite?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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After my first exhibition and book launch, I recovered by going to Bali with one of my dearest friends, Lou Pardi and my boyfriend, Tim. We started off the trip by picking up Lou from Ubud - where two of my favourite foods are to be found. So first we indulged on the babi guling (suckling pig) at <a href="http://www.tripadvisor.com.au/Restaurant_Review-g294226-d3389697-Reviews-Ibu_Oka_3-Bali.html" target="_blank">Ibu Oka 3</a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_haByt39PcxvkKOe8oJKoLrQFC30eEmXWNd44W3zx6cd6vPkrDUmsW0HumO-894AcS7pj2mK4FLc7wK3BSs8Cu2wtcFHpu5sThoTN20tfJ44I9gd-fUJ3cJ-_Q3KzPDGTcBq8Rcz2elJl/s600/Bali+Ibu+Oka+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_haByt39PcxvkKOe8oJKoLrQFC30eEmXWNd44W3zx6cd6vPkrDUmsW0HumO-894AcS7pj2mK4FLc7wK3BSs8Cu2wtcFHpu5sThoTN20tfJ44I9gd-fUJ3cJ-_Q3KzPDGTcBq8Rcz2elJl/s400/Bali+Ibu+Oka+3.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Babi Guling spesial at <a href="http://www.tripadvisor.com.au/Restaurant_Review-g294226-d3389697-Reviews-Ibu_Oka_3-Bali.html" target="_blank">Ibu Oka 3</a></td></tr>
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Then we headed over to <a href="http://www.tripadvisor.com.au/Restaurant_Review-g297701-d991554-Reviews-Bebek_Bengil-Ubud_Bali.html" target="_blank">Bebek Bengil</a> ("dirty duck") to feast on our winged friends<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyW_DhUhm4DNllM9lGV1_Og8yM9DVxdgo8VM1izkutOgHu17LW8ltYUuni-hbgsRoY-EjqNGgxCSD0xqCzunOHgluzprBy3oibyl0LWeWyVnBbeXw_MiyWKFrH3hzsqy33k5dscBBrS3ze/s600/Bebek+Bengil.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyW_DhUhm4DNllM9lGV1_Og8yM9DVxdgo8VM1izkutOgHu17LW8ltYUuni-hbgsRoY-EjqNGgxCSD0xqCzunOHgluzprBy3oibyl0LWeWyVnBbeXw_MiyWKFrH3hzsqy33k5dscBBrS3ze/s400/Bebek+Bengil.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nasi Campur at <a href="http://www.tripadvisor.com.au/Restaurant_Review-g297701-d991554-Reviews-Bebek_Bengil-Ubud_Bali.html" target="_blank">Bebek Bengil</a></td></tr>
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Feeling ridiculously full, Lou and Tim insisted that we go for a walk to settle our stomachs. I really didn't want to go to the local tourist attraction - <a href="http://www.monkeyforestubud.com/" target="_blank">The Sacred Monkey Forest</a> - actually none of us did but it was the only place nearby that promised an uninterrupted walk. So off we went.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA2Ry6qMwokAiElSqmxgNo0FgdZCFRlPeETwPQ6QJp2e2ghGi3XVe7z9-S9pmdW0O9JjPNiUM7J33CHMXYsZi9YEkmuUc67cCcPjgShuhtU2HMVtecq3n-_PaZT47HTArVeLITtI_1NK-P/s600/Awkward+Tourist+Monkey+Forest+Ubud+Bali.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA2Ry6qMwokAiElSqmxgNo0FgdZCFRlPeETwPQ6QJp2e2ghGi3XVe7z9-S9pmdW0O9JjPNiUM7J33CHMXYsZi9YEkmuUc67cCcPjgShuhtU2HMVtecq3n-_PaZT47HTArVeLITtI_1NK-P/s400/Awkward+Tourist+Monkey+Forest+Ubud+Bali.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mandatory awkward tourist photo in the Sacred Monkey Forest </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-vHDufxbP2efUG7Cf9GTCHYXI8zKIBrlMCWjx-x_NCDeq0aOwk0HR-neQRJ8ssra4ydezwl3ARFgCAd2wHmvnOL_tUNw58ZREbDCeoY1Rc9jnNZP0gNR9AYl6C7m3bOGV463MNVKQeN9f/s600/Monkey+Forest+Action.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-vHDufxbP2efUG7Cf9GTCHYXI8zKIBrlMCWjx-x_NCDeq0aOwk0HR-neQRJ8ssra4ydezwl3ARFgCAd2wHmvnOL_tUNw58ZREbDCeoY1Rc9jnNZP0gNR9AYl6C7m3bOGV463MNVKQeN9f/s400/Monkey+Forest+Action.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Action shot</td></tr>
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At first I was content making fun of the whole thing. I watched other tourists with disdain as they bought bananas, coaxing the monkeys to climb them so that they could take photos. Some of these same tourists screamed repeatedly once the monkeys started climbing onto them...as they had just encouraged. I was feeling like a cranky petulant teenager when I spied some the baby monkeys being nursed by their mothers and switched into appreciative photo-taking mode:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0a-aGq4wYYDG-962OcszOpvabK6zdIMItTSo-vV90LBeQUTRZtJU3Lbza3853pKtOCCfgQFUlA56WWNBgnX9XVvTdFh4h-_SgMBqmi9zdXDnV1OXyxXdmiZj62UWzjl2rg3TGIhvkwIr1/s600/Monkey+Forest+Baby+Monkey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0a-aGq4wYYDG-962OcszOpvabK6zdIMItTSo-vV90LBeQUTRZtJU3Lbza3853pKtOCCfgQFUlA56WWNBgnX9XVvTdFh4h-_SgMBqmi9zdXDnV1OXyxXdmiZj62UWzjl2rg3TGIhvkwIr1/s400/Monkey+Forest+Baby+Monkey.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">awww baby monkey suckling</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn9EIOKl3AUuo5901zxwLHTW9lgWDev5v3Vlyq4LLujkichCSu8oLJ843YJWnGrKEejLu7APk428iqRhLih9TwcuiI_PqY-JA-6oevgY6bXy0X7HdP1ipH4RDjr_gICE2jnJU9x_fTxVnu/s800/Bali+2013+061.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn9EIOKl3AUuo5901zxwLHTW9lgWDev5v3Vlyq4LLujkichCSu8oLJ843YJWnGrKEejLu7APk428iqRhLih9TwcuiI_PqY-JA-6oevgY6bXy0X7HdP1ipH4RDjr_gICE2jnJU9x_fTxVnu/s400/Bali+2013+061.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nawww baby monkey!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwPE7Isy5o9kkciQh727Ab1PuVmA-kMYG6RuWpmmpHI4lQcTK3AkJ2VlDL9PSGUkFVVKcFEwwt0oU_qJ98qZv18XPJQPVub5gdmZvZHiMou1Es9eqERQlIFDHNQUmmyc3xJpVmF8q3ea55/s600/Bali+2013+098.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwPE7Isy5o9kkciQh727Ab1PuVmA-kMYG6RuWpmmpHI4lQcTK3AkJ2VlDL9PSGUkFVVKcFEwwt0oU_qJ98qZv18XPJQPVub5gdmZvZHiMou1Es9eqERQlIFDHNQUmmyc3xJpVmF8q3ea55/s400/Bali+2013+098.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nawww lazy big monkey!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Exploring the sites, my back was getting attacked by mosquitos and so we decided to leave. That was until I spied a sign for "Public Art Gallery" and promptly followed the sign down the stairs to this pretty spot:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuTG6bwpJN_yt45jTiCa7IYIMbz4WuSuMtydRuuiccsrIN2Jsvfl1FHWBn49aAaA4BW9Sw3nhKov6shAUu4K4X6Dn87WEhau3KXcRLiUDj4SELOK1O30KSBntKGJMZR7rHkg3J-5h3kDwU/s1600/IMG_0932.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuTG6bwpJN_yt45jTiCa7IYIMbz4WuSuMtydRuuiccsrIN2Jsvfl1FHWBn49aAaA4BW9Sw3nhKov6shAUu4K4X6Dn87WEhau3KXcRLiUDj4SELOK1O30KSBntKGJMZR7rHkg3J-5h3kDwU/s400/IMG_0932.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbsn0kvR2GmyVGC5qCWZUZYwFsURCjciOJKjgBesPBtgFiWj1II3vNhM0NXUANheNXmrtcXzg-aBmb-ebh0HbRewQ_qORI3B6go0Z3WGuIceRYCQfUPX7Skb1qBr0l_qdpqrR76muP_G49/s800/ubud+monkey+biter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbsn0kvR2GmyVGC5qCWZUZYwFsURCjciOJKjgBesPBtgFiWj1II3vNhM0NXUANheNXmrtcXzg-aBmb-ebh0HbRewQ_qORI3B6go0Z3WGuIceRYCQfUPX7Skb1qBr0l_qdpqrR76muP_G49/s400/ubud+monkey+biter.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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So pretty, I started taking photos of a particularly cute little monkey:</div>
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<a href="http://picasion.com/i/1V1pY/"><img alt="http://picasion.com/i/1V1pY/" border="0" height="267" src="http://i.picasion.com/pic71/a7d83abc864cc582a204e90dc2514244.gif" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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I took quite a few photos of this monkey until I thought I should focus the lens on some of the others...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhezcjgiaMGQreOgIl6UKGZBDSS1awQDEwyiEfzEOgVc5B4hJSgi3_CHjvc9vG0d4lxS03inHCSEKOhMfyVpbOmSKOsHSQN3REJbcR4HdLjWkkWCrmClXGlWnSrE_EMCAGvm_FwB2ma90zX/s600/Bali+Big+Monkey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhezcjgiaMGQreOgIl6UKGZBDSS1awQDEwyiEfzEOgVc5B4hJSgi3_CHjvc9vG0d4lxS03inHCSEKOhMfyVpbOmSKOsHSQN3REJbcR4HdLjWkkWCrmClXGlWnSrE_EMCAGvm_FwB2ma90zX/s400/Bali+Big+Monkey.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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But "particularly cute" monkey had other ideas...</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZQln0bDHyRbQdVo-k15SQZNYwtk4LxLf40VRMAwjwaoRtsKOmGnMDkr8Mzj-pU4vioiafxvEB1QukptkLxDg4boH68-p61UdieBdW9brogxoABKHxWdDMDADhnUBVsEQTOecucEWCyFDb/s600/The+Monkey+Forest+Biter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZQln0bDHyRbQdVo-k15SQZNYwtk4LxLf40VRMAwjwaoRtsKOmGnMDkr8Mzj-pU4vioiafxvEB1QukptkLxDg4boH68-p61UdieBdW9brogxoABKHxWdDMDADhnUBVsEQTOecucEWCyFDb/s400/The+Monkey+Forest+Biter.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Particularly cute" aka "Asshole Monkey"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>The incident</b><br />
For me it started when Tim called out to warn me to watch my feet, I looked down to see "particularly cute" monkey. I was wearing a maxi dress so I took a step away just in case the dress got in the way. But "particularly cute" monkey reached out and grabbed the hem of my dress, shoving it down his gob rapidly. Gah! Naturally I started pulling my dress away, saying "no, monkey, this is my dress." Asshole Monkey pulled the dress back, harder. There we were playing tug of war - Asshole Monkey and me in a strapless dress with no bra underneath (it's hot and humid!). Lou tried to step in by saying "go away, monkey!" Asshole Monkey bared his teeth and started making hissing noises. Then all of his monkey friends around us got up, bared their teeth and made hissing noises. Asshole Monkey bit me on the calf. Ouch!<br />
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I realise that this is the point that most people would normally run. However I didn't want to leave Lou behind in a group of angry monkeys. So I stood my ground, pulling my dress back and started negotiating. "Hey, what's your problem? This is MY dress. I'm not doing anything wrong." Even after Asshole Monkey had bitten me on both thighs, and calves and swung up to look at me in the face, I was adamant, "What's your problem? I haven't done anything wrong!" His friend swung on from behind and bit me on the back of my neck and the other (or the same one?) bit me on the bum. I didn't scream- there were bigger monkeys around us with much bigger teeth. Tim was running around above looking for fruit scraps which he threw down, momentarily distracting Asshole Monkey and friends until they could quickly see that they were just fruit peels. Lou, eventually managed to run past me (I didn't see her go past in all of the commotion) to get help. By the time Tim dragged me up the stairs, Lou had run back with help. All of the monkeys stayed down the stairs. I had been bitten 7 times.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkobztQwwotj3l5ksAfc-JsmgaaL2FCZbtahzQ2_YHaCoXvBmJaNdMg4kRRnkotSjNxq67AtTO5wucU1DVSWhyphenhyphenNYs_GzNiB9RWxzaBnzoDwMZiEsIZQtE0eAHTs4fA7kjww31_0utxqjJv/s1600/IMG_0934.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkobztQwwotj3l5ksAfc-JsmgaaL2FCZbtahzQ2_YHaCoXvBmJaNdMg4kRRnkotSjNxq67AtTO5wucU1DVSWhyphenhyphenNYs_GzNiB9RWxzaBnzoDwMZiEsIZQtE0eAHTs4fA7kjww31_0utxqjJv/s320/IMG_0934.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the way to the hospital the next day, pointing out one of the bites. I think I'm also trying to give a "thumbs down" sign...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b>If you do get bitten, here's what to do:</b></div>
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<ol>
<li style="text-align: left;">Go to the First Aid room (at the Sacred Monkey Forest) and get the wounds cleaned up.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">Go to <a href="http://www.bimcbali.com/" target="_blank">BIMC hospital </a>for tetanus and rabies vaccinations - ideally on the same day. While rabies has not yet been found in the Balinese monkeys, I wasn't going to give things a chance. If you have had particularly nasty bites (i.e. deep bites into flesh), you'll need the rabies immunoglobulin which we were told is not available on the island of Bali due to transportation issues.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">Upon return home, visit the <a href="http://www.tmvc.com.au/" target="_blank">Travel Doctor</a> to complete the course of rabies vaccinations. <i>Should probably do this before the trip!</i></li>
</ol>
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<b>Travel Insurance: </b></div>
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My travel insurance covered costs incurred in Bali only (around $130AUD) - not costs once we reached home. I'll need to see if my Private Health Insurance covers the costs of seeing the Travel Doctor (around $300AUD - consultation and 3 visits for vaccinations)</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQWv9ynYQP0KYX3shHyJi300Dm5Iewm9QIea2vSpar6aCfOhDsLDdOLXcomPU3qfFoUOBZ3l6WzMYCRrzdYfIK6u2yHHnVuSrBYYl5MYC5qkPCDQMekiftKPIAix9_b4c1Z_hdm6ErZmIU/s1600/IMG_0951.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQWv9ynYQP0KYX3shHyJi300Dm5Iewm9QIea2vSpar6aCfOhDsLDdOLXcomPU3qfFoUOBZ3l6WzMYCRrzdYfIK6u2yHHnVuSrBYYl5MYC5qkPCDQMekiftKPIAix9_b4c1Z_hdm6ErZmIU/s400/IMG_0951.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Super clean - BIMC hospital in Bali - I went to the BIMC in Nusa Dua. There is also one in Kuta.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8mZT6Uwx4SJsLccfyniS85GEwHyacDxeXbI5ZM-F47REoSLYpNS31MNZSZOv3sWU6OxR5yOhlwwLvuribhBrD1Eb8RG6UsRTagP3uMYp71_6yHIzLSexR_gLX_G-CBcDX5pL2TlHOP4yw/s1600/IMG_0941.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8mZT6Uwx4SJsLccfyniS85GEwHyacDxeXbI5ZM-F47REoSLYpNS31MNZSZOv3sWU6OxR5yOhlwwLvuribhBrD1Eb8RG6UsRTagP3uMYp71_6yHIzLSexR_gLX_G-CBcDX5pL2TlHOP4yw/s400/IMG_0941.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy snap with my treating doctor and nurse at BIMC, Nusa Dua.</td></tr>
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The moral of this random shit is don't go to the Monkey Forest unless you're aware that you might get bitten. And visit the <a href="http://www.tmvc.com.au/" target="_blank">Travel Doctor</a> before you go somewhere because you never know...</div>
BusiChichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15432506746005981363noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4387326193016607847.post-86823732359599196192012-11-04T04:12:00.001-08:002012-11-04T04:12:08.033-08:00A prayer for gay marriage<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">"Go in Peace to Love and Serve the Lord."</span><div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">This is one of my favourite things that the priest says when closing Mass.</span><div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">So it was both a responsibility and privilege when I was asked to read this prayer at the wedding of some very dear friends of mine, just recently:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>"We are reminded today that many do not share the same freedoms that we do. Like our friends in same sex relationships who cannot take part in the ritual of marriage.</i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"> </span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><br /></i><i>We pray that we might live in a just and equal society that sees and values the Love and Humanity in each other."</i></blockquote>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">We tweaked the wording but I really like the sentiment of this prayer. It is peaceful and loving. It is unselfish and kind.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"></span><br />
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The moral of this random shit is: listen to your heart and do good. It serves us all.</div>
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chezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13776904664403419033noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4387326193016607847.post-61404175751624306842012-10-28T07:08:00.002-07:002012-10-28T14:26:22.777-07:00The Everton Bus Shelter"STOP THE CAR!!!!!" I yelled.<a href="http://doitinadress.com/timrodsted" target="_blank"> My fella</a> surprised, glanced over and caught just enough of the sight to see that it was worth finding a safe spot to do so. "Huh?" was the response from <a href="http://twitter.com/loupardi" target="_blank">Lou</a> in the back seat in a tone that said, "whatever-the-hell-could-be-so-important-that-you'd-yell-unwelcome-like-that".<br />
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Well dear reader, here's a GIF showing what brought on the outburst:<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://picasion.com/"><img alt="creator" border="0" height="265" src="http://i.picasion.com/pic60/f03b9e01e8b9373c310d75dcc342f87c.gif" width="400" /></a></div>
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Here's the ensuing photoshoot:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn3PBqV_zwJNgl03wkByejvf4xhSXOuclc-BYjhR5uS6g9wJdm94_9Qq5BPSGH6Oi0qmTRQC-q0Bn9tso1NJxyD7mDkY9ZdDS3LButT3NhnLx1BdVNv3ULWZEBGZ5LSoqHfxSW4dPiCk4/s1600/Everton+Bus+Shelter+Oct+2012+Lou+&+Chez.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn3PBqV_zwJNgl03wkByejvf4xhSXOuclc-BYjhR5uS6g9wJdm94_9Qq5BPSGH6Oi0qmTRQC-q0Bn9tso1NJxyD7mDkY9ZdDS3LButT3NhnLx1BdVNv3ULWZEBGZ5LSoqHfxSW4dPiCk4/s320/Everton+Bus+Shelter+Oct+2012+Lou+&+Chez.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMUvnAQ6ZTApTBWvRWRwW9oO3cYlU0PyseO8xRXOEvTZXEwvlzACdnI-avrX77LSvBcz7eioiSDem3ZxN6WfXiJWGDbrUrDhuJ3kTi10SeyRb5tyaZYUIJ4Z9305zb8n2ViQgEVaFTaHU/s1600/Everton+Bus+Shelter+Oct+2012+Tim+&+Chez.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMUvnAQ6ZTApTBWvRWRwW9oO3cYlU0PyseO8xRXOEvTZXEwvlzACdnI-avrX77LSvBcz7eioiSDem3ZxN6WfXiJWGDbrUrDhuJ3kTi10SeyRb5tyaZYUIJ4Z9305zb8n2ViQgEVaFTaHU/s320/Everton+Bus+Shelter+Oct+2012+Tim+&+Chez.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaV_3WUL9ZtuSbZtE1QHJEw-EXDtXx_YcVVHSnLJMppKClJuHgiM0W5szWXN6vk1P9PKbpJUAzNDennSaM_4jwbpLKOZvHTh9Q0NhqSeLq7nN20iq5dywas920uUwQIOdSkXiKPO_gIJ0/s1600/Everton+Bus+Shelter+Tim+&+Chez+kiss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaV_3WUL9ZtuSbZtE1QHJEw-EXDtXx_YcVVHSnLJMppKClJuHgiM0W5szWXN6vk1P9PKbpJUAzNDennSaM_4jwbpLKOZvHTh9Q0NhqSeLq7nN20iq5dywas920uUwQIOdSkXiKPO_gIJ0/s320/Everton+Bus+Shelter+Tim+&+Chez+kiss.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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More GIF showing that Lou soon saw and also loved the Everton Bus Shelter:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisUlVXeAYsLaLBSzw4ZnHewPTzAs6DdcHvMT1EIl_PnJxAKonUCwRKkzvUn4ut75trPGFRRakUOIWglUMTuSRPI22Kt5SKEy3S1N0A7baLjbO5cVUDReT3lnd1UOBzvNrVQyI1Egwe5T4/s1600/Chez+mirror.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="http://picasion.com/"><img alt="gif" border="0" height="266" src="http://i.picasion.com/pic60/abead276a9bbbbaf35bf1004645c6226.gif" width="400" /></a></div>
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The moral of this random shit is that needless to say, the countryside is full of some awesome stuff - get out with your mates and enjoy it!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisUlVXeAYsLaLBSzw4ZnHewPTzAs6DdcHvMT1EIl_PnJxAKonUCwRKkzvUn4ut75trPGFRRakUOIWglUMTuSRPI22Kt5SKEy3S1N0A7baLjbO5cVUDReT3lnd1UOBzvNrVQyI1Egwe5T4/s1600/Chez+mirror.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisUlVXeAYsLaLBSzw4ZnHewPTzAs6DdcHvMT1EIl_PnJxAKonUCwRKkzvUn4ut75trPGFRRakUOIWglUMTuSRPI22Kt5SKEy3S1N0A7baLjbO5cVUDReT3lnd1UOBzvNrVQyI1Egwe5T4/s320/Chez+mirror.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Love this bus shelter? Read about the "<a href="https://open.abc.net.au/posts/exterior-decorating-03lq9xa" target="_blank">Mad Lot from Everton</a>", the awesome crew behind the Everton Bus Shelter! Thank you for the joy you added to our roadtrip today!chezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13776904664403419033noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4387326193016607847.post-38669320849134796372012-10-20T23:18:00.003-07:002012-10-20T23:19:19.466-07:00Vintage books on Australian flowersI love flowers.<br />
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So I am particularly pleased to have picked up these vintage books at the Maling Road Antique Market in Canterbury for $2 and $3 a piece, check out the covers:<br />
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<a href="http://picasion.com/"><img alt="tumblr" border="0" height="267" src="http://i.picasion.com/pic60/5b668ca588f06f42c694e1937cbaab9d.gif" width="400" /></a></div>
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The photography is beautiful in that saturated sunny-hazed way of the 1970s.<br />
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I love both covers but the black-eyed red Sturt Pea reminds me of the Fred Williams exhibition I visited earlier this year where I marvelled at his abstract, vibrant Australian landscapes and appreciation of the Sturt desert pea:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJYlanWh2LZsKX1J3HIELyp2IUkKZFD697-XCaUsWL0pr7B0zKTxtlcT9VkjRQPVpTjQgQxqdn_Aj8Qwluh3vUyrD2xZ2QIFd2htN8dTa1ZlQCWE6NnLQpxyiKr04HaEV3zwlUJKji69k/s1600/fred+williams+sturt+desert+pea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJYlanWh2LZsKX1J3HIELyp2IUkKZFD697-XCaUsWL0pr7B0zKTxtlcT9VkjRQPVpTjQgQxqdn_Aj8Qwluh3vUyrD2xZ2QIFd2htN8dTa1ZlQCWE6NnLQpxyiKr04HaEV3zwlUJKji69k/s320/fred+williams+sturt+desert+pea.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<a href="http://nga.gov.au/Exhibition/WILLIAMS/Default.cfm?IRN=100746&MnuID=3&ViewID=2" target="_blank">Sturt desert pea (1974) by Fred Williams</a><br />
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Such gems; goes to show how it pays off to have time to rummage through the bargain box!<br />
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<br />chezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13776904664403419033noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4387326193016607847.post-23956060875727303792012-10-18T21:10:00.002-07:002012-10-20T23:45:12.731-07:00The Different<br />
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As someone who spends a lot of time looking past the grey swarm and<a href="http://businesschic.com.au/" target="_blank"> “seeing people”</a>, I get annoyed when people only see me in one way.
That is, when they only see “Asian”, “Girl” or “chick who likes fashion”. It
affects me professionally, socially, romantically. <st1:city w:st="on">Melbourne</st1:city> writer Benjamin Law wrote about
<a href="http://www.dailylife.com.au/life-and-love/love,-sex-and-relationships/racebased-attraction-20120326-1vta1.html" target="_blank">race-based attraction on Grindr</a> and as a single looking for that someone special whilst out
and about in the city that I love; I can add that it was character-building to
so often be met with prejudiced eyes.</div>
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I love being Australian. I’ve lived overseas and goodness,
you should see how I wave the banner for home by sharing Barbeque shapes, Tim
Tams and showing “the right way to have Vegemite” – just a smidge over lusciously-buttered
bread. However, I also know that despite being born here and being so proud… on
home ground the sense of comfort that I have in being Australian can be whipped
out from underneath me at any time with a “so, where do you come from?” </div>
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A few years ago now at work, a senior staff member asked me to give a team
presentation about Chinese New Year. Because you know, I’m Chinese. What they
didn’t know is that my heritage is Indonesian Chinese; my Opa (that’s Dutch for
“Grandfather”) sent his daughters to <st1:place w:st="on">Australia</st1:place> because the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Discrimination_against_Chinese_Indonesians" target="_blank">Indonesians under Suharto were curtailing Chinese rights</a>. My parents’ Chinese schools, the
Chinese-language newspaper were closed down, Chinese people were required to
change their surnames to Indonesian ones to stamp out Chinese culture.* I had
to Wikipedia the presentation.<br />
<br />
However while fuming to my friends about the presentation, I
was taken aback when one of my well-meaning friends exclaimed, “yeah Chezzy,
why you? You’re not Asian, you’re Australian!”</div>
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There’s been much ado online about<a href="http://media.smh.com.au/news/national-news/the-question-christina-did-not-want-to-answer-3685143.html" target="_blank"> this interview</a> that
Herald Sun Fashion Ed Kate Waterhouse held with the insanely fabulous,
Christina Hendricks. As a fan of the TV show Mad Men, I am also a very big fan
of Hendricks’ portrayal of feisty Joan who at the point I’ve watched up to (end
of Season 4), seems to be realising that men aren’t the answer and she’s gonna
have to save herself to have the life that she wants. Anyhow in this interview
that has gone viral, Waterhouse asked Hendricks’ "what it was like to be a role
model for full figured women" and "to tell a story, to give an example to show how." Hendricks took offence at the question, shut
down the interview and later called the question “rude”; which got me thinking.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis6mODYwxJJjSxNVpptQV9jtJJVgN7jXsWWys5ISs7_fjLagzgpVg04zgjMqTUsKhfr75hbSnWITzWGm7MiT449rI9qew6onEIXQQfhyphenhyphen5hyphenhyphencVFx0Tm9fodIzo5rAsj2WJWpFyiXGS4zWY/s1600/christina+hendricks_cheryl+lin.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis6mODYwxJJjSxNVpptQV9jtJJVgN7jXsWWys5ISs7_fjLagzgpVg04zgjMqTUsKhfr75hbSnWITzWGm7MiT449rI9qew6onEIXQQfhyphenhyphen5hyphenhyphencVFx0Tm9fodIzo5rAsj2WJWpFyiXGS4zWY/s400/christina+hendricks_cheryl+lin.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Being "different" can have its downside but... </td></tr>
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Tell me if it's different but I related to Hendricks' reaction; I find it disappointing when people choose to focus and constantly refer to my being Asian in the way Hendricks might feel constantly being seen and referred to as “full-figured”. There is a
shitload more to each of us. But for some reason, society or the people in positions like Waterhouse can only see how we're different, to them. And to be fair, it's not just Waterhouse, in an interview with the cast of Charlie's Angels, Rove McManus asked Drew Barrymore and Cameron Diaz "how hard was it to learn martial arts for the film?" indicating that he didn't need to ask the third Angel, Lucy Liu. Liu quipped, "why? because I'm Asian?"<br />
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We are different to the norm. Hendricks has her figure and I have colour. And it is the first thing that a lot of people see. Tina Fey wrote in her book, Bossypants, that she could tell a person based on how they treated her after seeing the scar on her face. You know what they see, it's always interesting to see how they respond. I try
to stay calm so that I can tell the difference between rudeness and ignorance
and try to react appropriately. The difference between some
drunk guy in a bar yelling, “KO<st1:stockticker w:st="on">NICH</st1:stockticker>IWA”
in my face and the staff member asking me to give the presentation on Chinese
New Year: the first instance, rudeness; the second, ignorance. </div>
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I also don't believe in the level of political-correctness that we've come to in some places; to the point that we also don't reasonably call things as they are. I’ve been reading Layne Beachley’s biography and she talks about the
teasing that she used to cop from the boys who surfed on the best part of the
beach; where she wanted a go. The boys dished out the teasing and Beachley
learnt that she liked standing up for herself.
Sure Waterhouse’s posing of the full-figured question (seriously "tell me a story" - come on, Kate!) to Hendricks was
clumsy and came across to me as condescending coming from one so (as she puts it herself), “slight”. I
do feel though that Hendricks could have reacted in a more sophisticated way
with a clever answer that would’ve had us fist-pumping. Like “<i>only</i> the full-figured ones? <i>Only</i> women?”</div>
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So regardless of whether we've dealt with the way that society looks at us, why should Hendricks, any person, even have to be a role
model? This question was posed by <st1:place w:st="on">Melbourne</st1:place>
writer, Clementine Ford, in <a href="http://www.dailylife.com.au/news-and-views/dl-opinion/why-no-woman-needs-to-be-a-role-model-20121015-27mm2.html" target="_blank">her reaction to the Waterhouse/Hendricks interview</a>. Now, I’ve referred to Ford in the past as her pieces
often express how I feel about a situation, albeit with far more advanced
writing skills and facts and stuff. See how her work is quoted by Hugo Schwyzer in <a href="http://jezebel.com/5950658/if-its-not-a-secret-its-not-safe-girls-boys-and-the-pleasure-paradox" target="_blank">this piece on Jezebel</a>. Such good brains. So much so that I was getting ready to defer
all critical thinking to Ford until she wrote this piece on the
Waterhouse-Hendricks saga. </div>
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<i><span lang="EN-AU" style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;">Christina
Hendricks isn't the first female celebrity who's had to bear her actual career
being sidelined for the less interesting pursuit of Professional Role Model,
and she certainly won't be the last. We have this incessant need in our
celebrity obsessed culture to turn potentially unwilling and often inappropriate
people into ‘role models’.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-AU" style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;">And why do we
reward women for modelling good, conservative behaviour to young girls and
punish those who refuse to play the game?<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-AU" style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;">I’m tired of
being told that I need role models to look up to, particularly when they
reinforce very limited versions of womanhood. I agree that we need to showcase
more diversity in the media, but offering patronising squeals about impossibly
beautiful women isn’t the answer.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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I grew up in the suburbs blaring Bon Jovi. I loved “Sleep
when I’m Dead.” The video clip of a bunch of cheeky, womanizing rockers
inspired me years before I really understood what their songs were about. I don’t believe that we can choose who we influence or are role models
for. I believe that there are folks who work in the public eye who genuinely want to do a good job because they know that they have the skills and talent; the attention they get is a by-product that comes with the territory and which is something they have to go on and manage. While I was photographing Winter Olympian Steven Bradbury last year, I was struck by how many random people would stop and wait to shake his hand for something that he did a decade ago. A bloke stopped with his family, pointed out Bradbury and told his kids about the gold medal. Bradbury, an athlete will tell you that he worked damn hard and persevered against all odds to achieve what he did but people will always see him as a fortuitous accidental winner (even though he'd worked for 12 years, represented Australia a bunch of times and also won by accident in the semi-final in the lead up to the final). Bradbury uses that profile to speak on the motivational circuit and showcases his own cheek through the jokes that he makes that may shock the audience but drew lots of laughs the two times I've heard him deliver them. </div>
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Which brings me to my next point that I also disagree with Ford’s assertion that we necessarily have to,
“behave”. I agree that Disney infantalises its female talent such as Miley Cyrus etc. but Disney does not have a monopoly on creating role models and neither do
conservative parental groups. We're never going to please everyone but I do believe that with the rise of self-publishing, "the different" are able to put out their own stories and grow a readership to such an extent that there has been a shift in the public conscious. I feel that the public eye is ready for the less-angelic - where it is humble, self-aware more authentic and therefore, resonates. Take <a href="http://galadarling.com/" target="_blank">Gala Darling</a> for example, creator of the Radical Self Love Project. If you haven't already - make the time to watch her TEDx talk below: <iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/GFXHYtY9ag8" width="560"></iframe><br />
Lady has been through a lot, what a trooper. But she battles through things and in doing so, shines a light for others to live their authentic selves. And she's one of gazillions of people who do this everyday which goes to show how widely we can take inspiration/role modeling from when we choose to look past what's shown to us on TV. Another "different" role model is blogger <a href="http://carlyfindlay.blogspot.com.au/" target="_blank">Carly Findlay</a> who amongst many other things (like our mutual love for Bon Jovi) blogs about her life living with skin condition ichthyosis. <br />
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For those of us who know that we’re different…Society isn’t
going to get over our being different to the “norm” any time soon. So for the
most part we will be token representations of “our kind”, we will have to
answer the most inane questions. I know that Findlay cops an obscene number of comments from perfect strangers. It's tiresome. But once we get over our being
different, we get to move on and shift focus to our other talents and work. It’s up to us to shape our own paths and not buy into structures that will package and market us out as things that we’re not and in the case of Disney starlets; at an age when we’re not sure what we are, just yet. And it's not just for ourselves or other people "like us", it's for everyone. </div>
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In case you're wondering about what I did with the presentation; I ended up seeing the latter as an opportunity to do what I enjoy the most; create engaging content to educate and entertain. I got Caucasian Nick to deliver the presentation in Chinese and I in English. It was well-received although the senior staff member seemed to think that I took the piss a little. Yes I was but I like to think that it made the point that there was more to Nick; unexpectedly fluent in Chinese and knowing about the traditions as he’d studied and lived in China; and more to me as people expect me to be some sort of compliant little Asian girl without spark. Ha.<br />
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Being different. How people respond to you says a lot more about them. That said, how you choose to deal with them or let it affect you says lots about you. And if you can use it for good, why wouldn't you?</div>
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*Dad was able to switch back to
his Chinese name when he reached <st1:place w:st="on">Australia</st1:place> because it was on his
original birth certificate but we no speak the Chinese. But before you feel sorry for our loss of cultural heritage, it's not all lost; we still get red packet. woo.</div>
chezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13776904664403419033noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4387326193016607847.post-13490027598923850982012-05-31T07:47:00.000-07:002012-07-09T06:46:04.636-07:00True Self: Ballerina Barbie and meI never really wanted a Barbie a doll until I was around 5 years old and saw <i>the one</i> on TV.<br />
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I remember watching the ad; there was a stage with deep-red velvet curtains. A spotlight beamed and in twirled the Ballerina Barbie. She had a tutu and pink ballet shoes that laced up. I was mesmerised.<br />
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I wasn't sure I was supposed to believe in Santa but that year my parents seemed to really want me to. So when they asked me to find what Santa had brought me that year, I ran to the fireplace and-oops look - Santa had dropped a present there! When I tore the package open- well it really was Christmas ;)<br />
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I remember going to school and for the first time noticing that my hair wasn't like that of the other kids. I got home and looked at Ballerina Barbie and noticed that she had <i>their</i> hair. It was so long, yes she had plenty; surely we could share! So I pulled out scissors from my pencil case and carefully cut her long blonde hair. I put the chunks onto sticky tape which I then stuck over my own black bob and went to check myself out in the mirror.<br />
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I was so surprised. <span style="background-color: white;">I was so disappointed</span><span style="background-color: white;">; I didn't look like them. I looked like me but silly. Ridiculous. I looked at Ballerina Barbie with her new bob; she didn't look as good as she did before either. Most people would realise that they needed a better hairdresser but there was something about that moment. It made me realise that I wasn't ever going to be like anyone else, that it was better for everyone if I was just me.</span><br />
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Mum asked me why I'd cut Barbie's hair; I told her it was because I thought that she'd want to have a bob hairstyle like me. Mum's kept all of my toys and I remember coming across Ballerina Barbie when we were moving house; gosh how I felt a pang of shame when I saw her.<br />
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Tonight. I bought a piece of artwork. It's for a good cause and was priced ridiculously well but brought these old memories up to the surface.<br />
<br />
A collaboration between artist <a href="http://www.davidbromley.com.au/" target="_blank">David Bromley</a> and photographer <a href="http://www.christianblanchard.com/" target="_blank">Christian Blanchard</a> to help raise funds for <a href="http://www.fittedforwork.org/" target="_blank">Fitted For Work</a>... I remember the impression it made on me when I first saw Bromley's portraits of Asian girls. Sure they were topless but it was the first time that I'd seen a contemporary artist portraying Asian girls in a sensual, alluring way like the blonde ones...<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5mofESlUAw77xakzqQ2yh-Z1PJA9rHZSa1R7EMJ-mhWQW-e1_wQsw043_xxxwL3I2X4HLPfghKic433GPX2NRllZOKDj-izasYrN8G6u7htbWH-G2TfMc8_qytMMT9EqkxkxRfmKfqdY/s1600/Chez+&+Christian+Blanchard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5mofESlUAw77xakzqQ2yh-Z1PJA9rHZSa1R7EMJ-mhWQW-e1_wQsw043_xxxwL3I2X4HLPfghKic433GPX2NRllZOKDj-izasYrN8G6u7htbWH-G2TfMc8_qytMMT9EqkxkxRfmKfqdY/s320/Chez+&+Christian+Blanchard.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me with photographer Christian Blanchard and his collaborative piece with David Bromley</td></tr>
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I have no idea where I'm going to put this piece when I finally take hold of it.<br />
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It is going to be on display for a bit - so I've time to think.<br />
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In the meantime, I highly recommend checking out this piece and 51 others in this really great exhibition titled <a href="http://trueselfexhibition.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">True Self</a> produced by <a href="http://jackywinter.com/" target="_blank">The Jacky Winter Group</a> and <b>on display on level 1 of <a href="http://www.melbournesgpo.com/" target="_blank">Melbourne's GPO</a> until June 24.</b><br />
<br />chezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13776904664403419033noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4387326193016607847.post-1142329986165145832012-04-22T05:32:00.001-07:002012-04-22T05:32:36.699-07:00The time I fell off Kealey's shedThere are things a fashion blogger will do in order to get the right shot. Like fall off the roof of a shed into a vegie patch, then climb back up in order to "get the shot".<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmTG9XzpUiVfJJrXqaLWbEc73tiQzFTA24gHQ9nkNQxXCXVpo3QlHwGjY8uHUAxKpzNT0lu0sEe6jDAhUVflH_2j2VMPCLCMUUe2jIf6jjQ3-F9Sm_4KXBrSBlcsLzyxO_qr3R0_TV9LU/s1600/IMG_1129.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmTG9XzpUiVfJJrXqaLWbEc73tiQzFTA24gHQ9nkNQxXCXVpo3QlHwGjY8uHUAxKpzNT0lu0sEe6jDAhUVflH_2j2VMPCLCMUUe2jIf6jjQ3-F9Sm_4KXBrSBlcsLzyxO_qr3R0_TV9LU/s320/IMG_1129.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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Random shit that I left behind to get <a href="http://businesschic.com.au/2012/04/week-16-little-black-dress-goes-sheer-with-livia-arena/" target="_blank">the shot</a>:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my skin...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTtmQTqi1DlgEkU4Vzv8OM_yEyLFm29AOvju77pWUFftoWxUuccu78XHEeBnHOkBvSAlkcKI0cTmUdj7L2TX-H5u_D1exo4M6nTo9DtZMHELI2gmfXGVt5dDMnbLMKLQ1cs1D-g74WN1Y/s1600/IMG_1120.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTtmQTqi1DlgEkU4Vzv8OM_yEyLFm29AOvju77pWUFftoWxUuccu78XHEeBnHOkBvSAlkcKI0cTmUdj7L2TX-H5u_D1exo4M6nTo9DtZMHELI2gmfXGVt5dDMnbLMKLQ1cs1D-g74WN1Y/s320/IMG_1120.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shit happens, carry on</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIHFmhbcKPf4ooRQtFQxij4JhP0EGIxv4BNyo0mIXYfdsXpzS21M81XpFk0VThYW-zTV_Ej0QGtMotTYKsjKc_oHyBuHbSSFMQo5Rwe3XKxQxCBrki6FMZEsGC_9aFi24-rE0lL6kcfFo/s1600/IMG_1138.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIHFmhbcKPf4ooRQtFQxij4JhP0EGIxv4BNyo0mIXYfdsXpzS21M81XpFk0VThYW-zTV_Ej0QGtMotTYKsjKc_oHyBuHbSSFMQo5Rwe3XKxQxCBrki6FMZEsGC_9aFi24-rE0lL6kcfFo/s320/IMG_1138.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidGoef1Qd_FcWHNCXL9xPSsMQyxH2LIDIhjbQ81hKCxONdfsQDpiLZ87OiMXsJP36eG0pN749uQbGjS2qw3vbxkHh4GWUmkgu8Y4UK4x6oz2RMtyFPOcvnw4ww5kGqLDNLsZZgVE65LnQ/s1600/IMG_1143.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidGoef1Qd_FcWHNCXL9xPSsMQyxH2LIDIhjbQ81hKCxONdfsQDpiLZ87OiMXsJP36eG0pN749uQbGjS2qw3vbxkHh4GWUmkgu8Y4UK4x6oz2RMtyFPOcvnw4ww5kGqLDNLsZZgVE65LnQ/s320/IMG_1143.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back on solid ground</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfA-tLpQRgbtCzqE6JD0C5Oh4SnhJ-8WnGH1p4HsDbFVinaMFvPIVSh-GXultuwiP8shY1H3IYuPVvuI18eNPJua3xXirTmqILLWV6WIyjdzrC427c9rj3JjORL9f_pV-0H4evXZ9eQfo/s1600/IMG_1144.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfA-tLpQRgbtCzqE6JD0C5Oh4SnhJ-8WnGH1p4HsDbFVinaMFvPIVSh-GXultuwiP8shY1H3IYuPVvuI18eNPJua3xXirTmqILLWV6WIyjdzrC427c9rj3JjORL9f_pV-0H4evXZ9eQfo/s320/IMG_1144.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My hero :)</td></tr>
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And now for some shots of the delightful<a href="http://dorisyangzhang.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"> Doris</a> who pretty much fulfilled what I was hoping to achieve; I now realise that it'd mean not wearing high heels ;)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiahP5LShT_x_TOSXFKKQfhDBXpoos4nm7rMB8o_hrlZiObfMUoy7OU3nEMP5vabKtxTbkyQkOnS5ASeN2pv-Flu2s5w896IgKM8cgJZk0f695jx2764m2FdakC7xN6Sz-CW9pangTGd9g/s1600/IMG_1174.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiahP5LShT_x_TOSXFKKQfhDBXpoos4nm7rMB8o_hrlZiObfMUoy7OU3nEMP5vabKtxTbkyQkOnS5ASeN2pv-Flu2s5w896IgKM8cgJZk0f695jx2764m2FdakC7xN6Sz-CW9pangTGd9g/s320/IMG_1174.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Many thanks to the awesome-face <a href="http://www.twitter.com/kealey" target="_blank">Kealey</a> for helping me get my desired shots and not photographing me while I was splayed in her veggie patch!<br />
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The moral of this random shit is to make sure that your tetanus shots are up-to-date... and if you're going to fall into a veggie patch; take care to avoid the pumpkins ;)chezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13776904664403419033noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4387326193016607847.post-91802590651284537252012-03-31T04:52:00.003-07:002012-03-31T04:58:51.278-07:00Family storyThis month I took part in #b03, <a href="http://thesquigglyline.com/blog/uncategorized/join-me-in-blogging-every-day-of-march/">Steve Hopkin's</a> challenge to share a blog post every day for the month of March. I have another blog that was already running six days a week and I felt that I was cheating somehow by only needing to do one more post. So I set myself the challenge here to jot down a family story every day. <br />
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Over the years, Mum and Dad have shared various anecdotes with me of which I shared 16 during this month. At one stage I sat down and wrote down 20 with the idea to locate the old family photos to tie off the month with these nostalgic images. <br />
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However as I went along, I wondered whether I'd recalled the stories correctly so have jotted them down so that I can check the factual accuracy with my parents. <br />
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My plan is to complete writing down the stories, I haven't figured out whether that'll be here or simply in the book I plan to create to gift to my Mum for her upcoming birthday. <br />
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I attended <a href="http://www.trampolineday.com/">Trampoline Day</a> today where Niki held a session on the Stories and their Wisdom. She talked about how traditional stories that were passed down from generation to generation usually had a truth in them that was important to the culture. This caused me to reflect on my family story project. In writing about my resilient and entrepreunerial great-grandmother, I know that I've found a source of strength. In writing about my parents and how they really didn't have any other choice but to migrate to Australia, I now have a better understanding of why my parents decided to uproot us and move us to South Korea in the 90s. Dad always said that it's because he wanted us to be adaptable, just in case. I get that now. <br />
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I hope that one day I have the guts to make the jumps that my great-grandmother made, that my parents made for my brother and I. <br />
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As an auditor, I'm constantly advising organisations to document their procedures to mitigate against the risk of knowledge loss in the event of staff turnover. Now, I'm going to start recommending that everyone documents their family story too!<br />
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<em>Read <a href="http://randomshitchez.blogspot.com.au/search/label/%23family%20story" target="_blank">all family stories</a>. Read all of <a href="http://randomshitchez.blogspot.com.au/search/label/%23b03" target="_blank">my #b03 posts</a> (not always family-story-related!).</em>chezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13776904664403419033noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4387326193016607847.post-89836455454203041132012-03-26T06:24:00.003-07:002012-03-26T06:24:59.972-07:00Story 16: Leader of the pack<br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><i>What my father told me:</i><u></u><u></u></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I was class captain every year that I was in school and school captain in my final year. When we learned English we thought that it was strange how much emphasis was placed on learning to talk about the weather: in <u></u><u></u>Indonesia<u></u><u></u> it’s always hot and humid!<u></u><u></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I arrived in <u></u><u></u>Sydney<u></u><u></u> with two of my other friends. Quickly we learnt that Australian weather changes a lot! We were frugal and picked up jobs as day labourers. After paying rent, the only thing that we could afford was a fresh loaf of bread and a jar of IXL jam. We devoured the lot everyday.<u></u><u></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">My two friends didn’t think that the struggle was worth it, went back home and went onto become very rich businessmen.</span></div>
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<em style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I'm jotting down a family story every day over the month of March for </em><a href="http://thesquigglyline.com/blog/uncategorized/final-comments-for-those-blogging-every-day-in-march-b03/" style="background-color: white; color: #4d469c; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: #3778cd;"><em>#b03</em></span></a><em style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">, </em><a href="http://randomshitchez.blogspot.com.au/search/label/Family%20story?m=0" style="background-color: white; color: #4d469c; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: #3778cd;"><em>click here</em></span></a><em style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> to catch up on the stories I've shared so far.</em> <span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
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<br />chezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13776904664403419033noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4387326193016607847.post-62212030344934928072012-03-22T05:59:00.002-07:002012-03-22T05:59:22.134-07:00Story 15: Driver<em>What my mother told me:</em><br />
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I had a driver whose job it was to drive me. He would take me to wherever I wanted and drop me off. If I’d forgotten to leave him a tip for him to buy his lunch, he’d have a long face when I came back. He taught me how to ride a bicycle in the driveway of your great-grandmother’s factory.<br />
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He taught one of your aunties how to drive a car. On her first day she crashed and killed a goat. The farmer was so angry and made her buy the goat. So the servants were very happy because they got to have the goat for dinner.<br />
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<em>I'm jotting down a family story every day over the month of March for </em><a href="http://thesquigglyline.com/blog/uncategorized/final-comments-for-those-blogging-every-day-in-march-b03/"><span style="color: #3778cd;"><em>#b03</em></span></a><em>, </em><a href="http://randomshitchez.blogspot.com.au/search/label/Family%20story?m=0"><span style="color: #3778cd;"><em>click
here</em></span></a><em> to catch up on the stories I've shared so far.</em>chezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13776904664403419033noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4387326193016607847.post-90358093760082042502012-03-20T19:37:00.001-07:002012-03-22T06:01:05.462-07:00Story 14: my friend<i>What my mother told me:</i>
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I was the youngest. Your uncle was my closest sibling but he was 4 years older which is still a big gap and he was a boy. I had a little maid who was about the same age as me and we were very close. We played together and every night she would sleep in my room but on the floor. I hated that there was a difference between us. I always asked her to come and sleep with me in my bed but she never would saying, “no no, Miss I’m too dirty.”
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When it was decided that I was moving to Australia, we cried lots but I promised her that I’d come back for her and bring her to Australia where we would grow up, have our own children and always be friends.
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One day she was walking down the street carrying a jar of oil, she tripped and fell forward. The glass jar broke and she cut herself badly. They got her to hospital but you can't get any treatment unless you pay upfront. The servants didn’t have any money to pay for a blood transfusion so she died.
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I came home to Indonesia for the holidays and couldn’t find my friend. When they told me what had happened, I couldn’t cry. I sat, staring out of the window, silent. There’s this bird that makes a wailing sound. It wailed and it wailed all day and the servants kept saying, “that’s your little maid, Miss – she’s crying to say that she’s sorry she’s not here.”<br />
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<em>I'm jotting down a family story every day over the month of March for </em><a href="http://thesquigglyline.com/blog/uncategorized/final-comments-for-those-blogging-every-day-in-march-b03/"><span style="color: #3778cd;"><em>#b03</em></span></a><em>, </em><a href="http://randomshitchez.blogspot.com.au/search/label/Family%20story?m=0"><span style="color: #3778cd;"><em>click
here</em></span></a><em> to catch up on the stories I've shared so far. </em>chezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13776904664403419033noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4387326193016607847.post-57619532469993066492012-03-20T02:37:00.001-07:002012-03-20T03:00:27.831-07:00Story 13: Snack foods<br />
<em>What my mother told me:</em><br />
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In Indonesia the land is very fertile and there is food literally growing everywhere. One of my favourites was the tallow plant which grew along the road near our house. My little maid and I would go for a walk then when I saw that the tallow plant was ready, we’d grab a few of the plants and run all the way home. The farmers (or people were cultivating the crops and were waiting for the plants to be ready to sell at the market would see and chase us home but we were so quick! The farmers would then knock on our doors ask)ing to be paid for what we’d stolen. The other servants would get upset with me, “Miss! You are making people angry! Why don’t you just ask us to buy this for you at the market?”<br />
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I'm jotting down a family story every day over the month of March for <a href="http://thesquigglyline.com/blog/uncategorized/final-comments-for-those-blogging-every-day-in-march-b03/"><span style="color: #3778cd;">#b03</span></a>, <a href="http://randomshitchez.blogspot.com.au/search/label/Family%20story?m=0"><span style="color: #3778cd;">click
here</span></a> to catch up on the stories I've shared so far.chezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13776904664403419033noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4387326193016607847.post-23239989488771729832012-03-18T15:54:00.001-07:002012-03-20T02:33:53.854-07:00Story 12: [White] Australia<i>What my mother told me:</i>
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I arrived in Melbourne in 1973 and lived with an Australian family. I remember walking through Shoppingtown with the family and people were looking at me. The father reached out and grabbed my hand in solidarity. I appreciated his sentiment but I was 15 and I thought “oh god, does it look worse that this old white man is holding my hand?”
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I'm jotting down a family story every day over the month of March for <a href="http://thesquigglyline.com/blog/uncategorized/final-comments-for-those-blogging-every-day-in-march-b03/">#b03</a>, <a href="http://randomshitchez.blogspot.com.au/search/label/Family%20story?m=0">click here</a> to catch up on the stories I've shared so far.chezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13776904664403419033noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4387326193016607847.post-70883758870158959882012-03-15T06:00:00.001-07:002012-03-31T04:45:47.067-07:00BlackoutNo family story today.
I had an amazing day where I felt engaged with my colleagues after 2.5 days of Enneagram exploration; covered a beautiful fashion show where I got to meet some great new people and see one of my besties whom I haven't seen in TOO LONG; overcame a fear and photographed a writer I admire; dined at a favourite place where I meant to make space to reflect on things but instead got drawn into some wonderful conversations with those around me; got home to work only to find that we've a blackout and no wireless.
So I'm going to sit here in the dark and bask in the glow of a fine day in my life.
Hope yours has been a great one too!chezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13776904664403419033noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4387326193016607847.post-40144429954539601132012-03-14T05:28:00.002-07:002012-03-14T06:16:50.338-07:00Story 11: the basic solution<i>What my parents told me:</i> <br />
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They closed down our schools. We had been going to the schools for ethnic Chinese. They closed down the Chinese newspapers and made all chinese change their names to Indonesian ones. Our old schools were turned into jails and people we knew were imprisoned there. There was this old guy we knew, we used to joke about how skinny he was and how plump his wife was. I think he had been a writer for the Chinese newspaper. When we walked by the old school which they had all walled up; sometimes we'd throw a banana peel over the wall and you could hear the prisoners scuffling for it but at least that meant they were still alive. They eventually released the skinny man but his wife had died in the meantime.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I'm jotting down a family story every day over the month of March for </span><a href="http://thesquigglyline.com/blog/uncategorized/final-comments-for-those-blogging-every-day-in-march-b03/" style="background-color: white; color: #4d469c; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-decoration: none;">#b03</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">, </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">click here to catch up on </span><a href="http://randomshitchez.blogspot.com.au/search/label/Family%20story?m=0" style="background-color: white; color: #4d469c; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-decoration: none;">the stories I've shared so far.</a>chezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13776904664403419033noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4387326193016607847.post-12945192436795697542012-03-13T05:44:00.006-07:002012-03-13T06:17:10.867-07:00Reflecting on the family story projectThis business of jotting down a<a href="http://randomshitchez.blogspot.com.au/search/label/Family%20story?m=0" target="_blank"> family story</a> every day for the month of March for <a href="http://thesquigglyline.com/blog/uncategorized/final-comments-for-those-blogging-every-day-in-march-b03/">#b03</a> is tricky business! I'm currently pretty busy with my day job, covering fashion week and<a href="http://randomshitchez.blogspot.com.au/2012/03/moomba-2012.html?m=0" target="_blank"> riding my bike in the moomba para</a>de. And as quickly as I try to jot down a story, ideally within a 15minute block, I spend countless moments thereafter reflecting on the story- how it was told to me, the emotions expressed by the sharer, how the story made me feel at the time and how I feel about the story today.<br />
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</div><div><a href="http://randomshitchez.blogspot.com.au/2012/02/story-1.html?m=0" target="_blank">The first story</a> was told to me when I was doing a year 7 project on heroes and I decided I wanted to write about my great-grandmother. It was a story my mother retold to me over the years as an example of why it's important to be financially independent and perspective: things aren't always as bad as you might think they are... </div><div><br />
</div><div>My parents told me <a href="http://randomshitchez.blogspot.com.au/2012/03/story-5-on-falling-in-love.html?m=0" target="_blank">the story of how they fell in love</a> when we were having breakfast in Paris. Yup. I'd been backpacking through Europe about the same time my parents were taking a cruise in the area and we managed to meet up in Paris, the city of love. I cannot tell you what a special time it was hanging out in Paris with my parents. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"> I crashed my parents cute hotel room by sleeping on a single bed they hired for me. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">Dad snores so I had to wear ear plugs in order to be able to sleep. During the day, I showed them my Paris- Montmartre and we climbed the steps to Sacre Coeur and attended Mass. </span></div><div><br />
</div><div>So on this gorgeous trip that was getting quite ludicrously so, I was being corny when I asked, "so how did you two fall in love?"<br />
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and the rest is history !<br />
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</div>chezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13776904664403419033noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4387326193016607847.post-7359318570225876102012-03-12T05:50:00.004-07:002012-03-31T04:46:26.907-07:00Moomba 2012<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: left;"><i>A break from the family story for the latest installment of random shit, Chez!</i></span></div>
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My friend Lara McPherson ropes me into some pretty random shit. Six weeks after we first met through Twitter, we found ourselves living on display at the State of Design Festival to launch what is now <a href="http://theacefantastic.tumblr.com/">The Ace Fantastics!</a></div>
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Lara is one of the organisers of <a href="http://www.melbournetweedride.com/">Melbourne Tweed Ride</a> and the fashion runway at <a href="http://www.melbournebikefest.com.au/">Melbourne Bike Festival.</a> Both groups were invited to be in the 2012 Moomba parade, so off we went!</div>
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<b>Dress Rehearsal</b></div>
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Friends know not to call me before 11am on a weekend as I'm usually catching up on sleep I've missed out on during the week. Nonetheless I received a wake-up call at 9.30am one morning to remind (more like TELL!) me that we had dress rehearsal! Despite cursing on my rushed ride over, being greeted by gorgeously costumed singing and dancing kids cheered me up immensely and made me very excited for what lay ahead!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5718998988288894658" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgae9Ls_9QHTbKSDgm9epblMSWcvWrrDQ0F3J6iIzeEODKBVsSvOqPHVOBi9nErBDrqhySLacf_K9o91SvRNyilNqd193UiIRDZ6rkOBaM_WR0jzr4_58RgtzV7Rw4qowY32VhqTQg8H_Q/s400/01+Lara.jpg" style="display: block; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the cutest kid: lara mcpherson</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5718998992670806450" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhRgjR0EB9GIQdWup2M7UNypVuj4aZfUwMCx-bmUBLB6k8Idet1us6jzbfK6mJvmUgHPjwMNF0I1ksGY3oUlGf14kDWR92WXQLKr5DjmB77Piciq-1iDbpVnq4kyELYtTckC_3akXfxHM/s400/02+dress+rehearsal.jpg" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dress rehearsal: check out the tree man walking on stilts!</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhRgjR0EB9GIQdWup2M7UNypVuj4aZfUwMCx-bmUBLB6k8Idet1us6jzbfK6mJvmUgHPjwMNF0I1ksGY3oUlGf14kDWR92WXQLKr5DjmB77Piciq-1iDbpVnq4kyELYtTckC_3akXfxHM/s1600/02+dress+rehearsal.jpg"></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhRgjR0EB9GIQdWup2M7UNypVuj4aZfUwMCx-bmUBLB6k8Idet1us6jzbfK6mJvmUgHPjwMNF0I1ksGY3oUlGf14kDWR92WXQLKr5DjmB77Piciq-1iDbpVnq4kyELYtTckC_3akXfxHM/s1600/02+dress+rehearsal.jpg"></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5718999001568176578" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ODdgJjDEqE8ObS5IHDt3STnmLo_AaaQZyvCEc7_VgbTkFmdTtasyNeACDeXZrMkooz8A1LkYqFSgW-Lf6ngg-1cSSNk7O5xFP5IbL-1vswnMP1tmfKSiAHqKc5I7RHgFSAXA_KNsNdc/s400/03+Audreys.jpg" style="color: #0000ee; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; width: 400px;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little Audreys (did you know that the vinegar skipping girl's name is Audrey?)</td></tr>
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<b>The Parade </b></div>
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New tactic to help me get to things on time: tell me to get there three hours before the event starts!</div>
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Here are my behind-the-scenes snaps of the food-themed 2012 Moomba!<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikspLY4e560VsF9bSzjrphmC83azCQqEd8zaez51Rcf2g0dWTqWEHp6zTM8drgnE1LL2Z8ZcScY_yo78BuPwZWr_egIAU__RQR-YYNjhCkOufxEWTwd0oHTJf5C5f0XJyBCCbChwf2aoBp/s1600/bike.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikspLY4e560VsF9bSzjrphmC83azCQqEd8zaez51Rcf2g0dWTqWEHp6zTM8drgnE1LL2Z8ZcScY_yo78BuPwZWr_egIAU__RQR-YYNjhCkOufxEWTwd0oHTJf5C5f0XJyBCCbChwf2aoBp/s400/bike.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my bike - I pimped it up with the yellow flowers and garlic, tomato and lemon when we were asked to decorate our bikes with the theme, "food". Extra pink flowers were added by organisers on the day!</td></tr>
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<img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5718999824843211666" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEepbQzQVQIAq8LYRV35CRNMuDQ6iVvd5UbmHElS0sMdY5kvZnTSA6oM4teuFnuSbj_T8s6x7I-iGiNfHhhMFBqkSTkg6LVPK0Ss1B0GCxn0cqJ3RuzycSsPxZpOfUyNpMDguS-FbWJtc/s400/04+moomba+socks.jpg" style="color: #0000ee; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-decoration: underline; width: 400px;" /><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTi6Hvn-fhYBJBasU4INoPOySeEB7GxHyPwnQ8y4ZQJsGzpuMK2NJjdgRQ67IE2E7myIjvLbarsY_Rt-haF9l27eMoXQRtPMC0N7XUg3xHzcS14Zcp9ECca1pEzXyLwYC8yEAf8skMjmI/s1600/05+moomba+wait.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5718999828502532018" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTi6Hvn-fhYBJBasU4INoPOySeEB7GxHyPwnQ8y4ZQJsGzpuMK2NJjdgRQ67IE2E7myIjvLbarsY_Rt-haF9l27eMoXQRtPMC0N7XUg3xHzcS14Zcp9ECca1pEzXyLwYC8yEAf8skMjmI/s400/05+moomba+wait.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHsuyNoWT8WU69n0KA6eZxBDi1xOB7f0SUo3uTbAUJJRf7vOQT0D_NlByw32Y8BN9QoACaHrjDvOksGSelhmkTSU8G3Vhurl81VE7Ehg2FKi7039bbN4TmpQXql7JK6qQPMtLjgzN80tI/s1600/06+lisa.jpg" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5718999834903918658" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHsuyNoWT8WU69n0KA6eZxBDi1xOB7f0SUo3uTbAUJJRf7vOQT0D_NlByw32Y8BN9QoACaHrjDvOksGSelhmkTSU8G3Vhurl81VE7Ehg2FKi7039bbN4TmpQXql7JK6qQPMtLjgzN80tI/s400/06+lisa.jpg" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lisa Dempster of Melbourne Bike Festival</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUmNVMubYfd4b8m1qEhvMehLZP_e9IQtImke0bj7GoTQBd8h7R66K1yfTGg9yu5tlwfGA_Txo2Bji8vufzukfUou7xLvi64rNyrNS-z5thtFUo6pt4IB9ixO9gYXGgdHuPg42nc1xoi5VX/s1600/tweed+riders.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUmNVMubYfd4b8m1qEhvMehLZP_e9IQtImke0bj7GoTQBd8h7R66K1yfTGg9yu5tlwfGA_Txo2Bji8vufzukfUou7xLvi64rNyrNS-z5thtFUo6pt4IB9ixO9gYXGgdHuPg42nc1xoi5VX/s400/tweed+riders.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clockwise from left: Dave poses with the blooms we've been given to pimp up our rides; <a href="http://www.bargo.info/barblog/vintage-bicycle-collection/" target="_blank">Charlie & Paul</a>; Pip from <a href="http://www.thesqueakywheel.com.au/" target="_blank">The Squeaky Wheel</a> gives riders instructions! </td></tr>
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<img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5718999837006686626" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIaL0IOt1xpe1K92d33amRjyZfErAL68BC-dEE0Pk6U3BCqqZYgoiEpjwU89dr4HP_rlarxxpv7snHPJpI7wcli5tLe6q0szyees7vLBvAzauVl5nTJUiCGRNgvJBVWhPE-HXYgJeWt3s/s400/07+food+kids.jpg" style="color: #0000ee; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-decoration: underline; width: 400px;" /></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8LPDiGJCkchnudjLUx8AfftgBCds7Pey6CyavxsCh2hY7HV7THmcXOKpOF87d6zCKR3OmDftzNbjH4519kA_8oUyjgroR89LKbKbhgee-mDFokYTciUeMXr0KPnimgZZnykEILTcRCpQ/s1600/08+on+parade.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5718999846459677954" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8LPDiGJCkchnudjLUx8AfftgBCds7Pey6CyavxsCh2hY7HV7THmcXOKpOF87d6zCKR3OmDftzNbjH4519kA_8oUyjgroR89LKbKbhgee-mDFokYTciUeMXr0KPnimgZZnykEILTcRCpQ/s400/08+on+parade.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719001419598159442" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5fpz3lPyJ6vcNEtgd3t85Ub4LJ4Q9dcrRARW7iKcUjjyuYykEF4uXl19F0O9sjC9BluCAKF6-VsN8kJ9eZvPdHFZYbh-RJrbNOKFPmtj0a2xxRUurFR_jZ93R6xS14qBbPyMQr4WZba4/s400/09+ned.jpg" style="color: #0000ee; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; width: 400px;" /><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR8BY_zP_K_FsJIOWdOD1gEZgaTSssnxbTB8XnfZlQuj9lzGKwdsbfXsuPuGeRFnbqwrbk8f4btcMRA9hjwEV7htYCWMO3SP9ui6YTI6XAAGD8J623-WHsRH7HsRU6-iyXw1DWscrgBwE/s1600/10+larsie+and+chez.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719001418486749618" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR8BY_zP_K_FsJIOWdOD1gEZgaTSssnxbTB8XnfZlQuj9lzGKwdsbfXsuPuGeRFnbqwrbk8f4btcMRA9hjwEV7htYCWMO3SP9ui6YTI6XAAGD8J623-WHsRH7HsRU6-iyXw1DWscrgBwE/s400/10+larsie+and+chez.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
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And now here are some little videos that we made along the way!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5fpz3lPyJ6vcNEtgd3t85Ub4LJ4Q9dcrRARW7iKcUjjyuYykEF4uXl19F0O9sjC9BluCAKF6-VsN8kJ9eZvPdHFZYbh-RJrbNOKFPmtj0a2xxRUurFR_jZ93R6xS14qBbPyMQr4WZba4/s1600/09+ned.jpg"></a></div>
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For more fun times, <a href="http://www.twitter.com/laramcpherson">follow Lara!</a></div>chezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13776904664403419033noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4387326193016607847.post-47733551837909269702012-03-11T05:03:00.005-07:002012-03-31T04:46:55.045-07:00Story 10: The Abbatoir<em>What my father told me:</em><br />
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I'd come down from Sydney to visit your Mum who was living in Melbourne. She'd be busy with school so I'd find myself work as a day labourer to keep myself busy. One of those jobs was in an abbatoir that was in Abbotsford.<br />
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It was my job to lead the animals to get slaughtered. The lambs and the cows didn't seem to have any idea and would follow easily but the pigs. The pigs, knew. They fought, squealed like anything and cried.<br />
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Afterwards it was my job to clean their blood by sweeping the floors of the abbatoir. In those days all the drains led straight into the Yarra river.<br />
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I lasted one day on that job but ask your mother and she'll tell you; I smelt of their blood for week.<br />
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I'm jotting down a family story every day over the month of March for <a href="http://thesquigglyline.com/blog/uncategorized/final-comments-for-those-blogging-every-day-in-march-b03/">#b03</a>,<br />
click here to catch up on <a href="http://randomshitchez.blogspot.com.au/search/label/Family%20story?m=0">the stories I've shared so far.</a>chezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13776904664403419033noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4387326193016607847.post-5308635329745675572012-03-10T04:55:00.007-08:002012-03-31T04:46:10.198-07:00The Circle of Life<div>
Th<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">e process of writing down a family story everyday has got me thinking about my own life and how I am shaping the next chapters with what I decide to do with my own.</span></div>
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A funny night tonight where I watched The Lion King and Tim Burton's Alice. The hero in the first had to remember who he was and his responsibility to step up. The heroine in the second had to come to her full muchness, kill the Jabberwocky (which I'm told symbolizes fear) so that she could drink its blood and return home. </div>
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The story of my great-grandmother is one that I've known since I decided to do a project on her in year 7 in response to topic "heroes". She was brave, industrious, independent and clever. The challenges that she faced and overcame fascinate me. I'm lucky to live in a time where women aren't dependent on their families. I'm in awe of how she managed her lovers while running a company and raising five children. She was by no means perfect...and in those ways I'm inspired to build on her story. Stay tuned?</div>chezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13776904664403419033noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4387326193016607847.post-64874485200582110002012-03-08T23:04:00.002-08:002012-03-31T04:47:14.176-07:00Story 9: Marriage<div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><i>What my mother told me:</i></span></div>
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Your great-grandmother’s business was doing very well, she became rich. Lots of men tried to woo her. She eventually found one and had more children with him but she never fully trusted him and despite his pleas, never married him.</div>
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I'm jotting down a family story every day over the month of March for <a href="http://thesquigglyline.com/blog/uncategorized/final-comments-for-those-blogging-every-day-in-march-b03/">#b03</a>, click here to catch up on <a href="http://randomshitchez.blogspot.com.au/search/label/Family%20story?m=0">the stories I've shared so far.</a></div>
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I had an auntie who was very wealthy and she owned a whole beach. Every holiday the family would go and we cousins would swim in the ocean. The area was still quite wild so that when you went to the toilet, if you didn’t go back to the house, you’d have to go in the jungle. There were wild pigs around which if you weren’t careful, would try to knock you over so they could get to your <span class="SpellE">poo</span>. I was little and swimming with all of my big cousins and I really had to do a <span class="SpellE">poo</span>. I didn’t want to go to the jungle and fight the wild pigs so I did it right there. When my cousins saw the <span class="SpellE">poo</span> bobbing around and <span class="SpellE">realised</span> it was me: how they cursed me! They yelled and swam away yelling that because I’d done a <span class="SpellE">poo</span>, the sea water would go up my bum and kill me. I thought they were telling the truth and I got very <span class="SpellE">very</span> scared.</div>
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I'm jotting down a family story every day over the month of March for <a href="http://thesquigglyline.com/blog/uncategorized/final-comments-for-those-blogging-every-day-in-march-b03/">#b03</a>, click here to catch up on <a href="http://randomshitchez.blogspot.com.au/search/label/Family%20story?m=0">the stories I've shared so far.</a></div>
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Your great-grandmother moved her five children into a little village to get away from the in-laws who didn’t like her. She had always been good at making traditional the herbal medicines, <span class="SpellE">jamu</span>. She would go from house-to-house making special concoctions to treat the people in her village. People found her medicine effective and word spread.</div>
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I'm jotting down a family story every day over the month of March for <a href="http://thesquigglyline.com/blog/uncategorized/final-comments-for-those-blogging-every-day-in-march-b03/">#b03</a>, click here to catch up on <a href="http://randomshitchez.blogspot.com.au/search/label/Family%20story?m=0">the stories I've shared so far.</a></div>
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When I was young, I wanted to be a journalist. I wrote some pieces, won a number of writing prizes and even had a piece published in the paper. When I came to <st1:country-region><st1:place>Australia</st1:place></st1:country-region>, my English wasn’t very good. It was so frustrating to not be able to express myself properly. Then I found mathematics. There was a really good nun at my school who encouraged me and would give me lots of exercises. I forgot about my frustration with words and learned about the beauty of numbers. I liked that numbers were always the same, no matter what language I had to try and speak.</div>
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<i>I'm jotting down a family story every day over the month of March for <a href="http://thesquigglyline.com/blog/uncategorized/final-comments-for-those-blogging-every-day-in-march-b03/">#b03</a>, click here to catch up on <a href="http://randomshitchez.blogspot.com.au/search/label/Family%20story?m=0">the stories I've shared so far.</a></i></div>
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