Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Remembering how to use most obsolete gadgets

I usually have a good memory. If I hear an inkling that a new technological device or trend is about to invade to Australia – I’ll snap it immediately and use it until it completely falls apart or becomes obsolete. However, I can still remember how to use years after it becomes obsolete. My short history proves this. Here I go:

When I was Year Three, I discovered Windows 95. Being 1995, my first foray into technology was using Encarta Encyclopaedia to do my homework, playing Carmen Sandiego and marvel the fact that a CD-Rom could hold so much information. Today, I’m amazed that I remember how to use all these products.

When I was 10, I got my first Sony portable CD player. I was in awe of a machine where I could listen to music while I was eating lunch at the school playground, as well as carrying a folder of CDs to listen to my music. Today, even though my portable CD player is collecting dust up in the antic, I still remember how to use it.

When I was 11, I was obsessed with Pokemon and in particular, Pikachu. Who doesn’t find the little yellow monster adorable? Today, I still remember the motto “Gotta catch em all”.

When I was 13, the 90s were coming to an end. Backstreet Boys were popular and I had a huge crush on Nick Carter. I had posters of him in my bedroom and prayed to the almighty above that he will come down to Australia and ask me to go out with him. Today, whenever a Backstreet Boys song is played on the radio, I still remember the lyrics to “As Long As You Love Me”.

When I was 15, my parents finally got a 56K modem. It took three minutes to load up eBay. Songs took about twenty minutes to download. Image websites took ten minutes to upload and downloading movies was impossible. Today, I currently use broadband but I still remember how to use a dial-up internet.

When I was 17, I received my first iPod. The screen was black and white. However, I was gobsmacked when the device had a 20GB memory, holding approximately 2,000 songs. Today, I still remember to use an iPod – even though the little gadget has been upgraded around sixty-seven times.

When I was 21, Facebook bursted into the scene and I no longer needed to manually show to my friends pictures of my recent trip to Melbourne. Today, I remember how to use Facebook – even though the widget has undergone changes than Heidi Montag.

But a few days ago, I had to use a technological device that I hadn’t used since I was ten.
I had to walk downstairs to pick up this device from the antic:

I took it down to the lounge room. A friend of mine gave me a video titled ‘The Big Gig’ video as a gift and I was bursting with excitement to watch it.

However, as I placed the VCR down, my mind went blank. I turned around and asked my sister,

“So, where do you put the video tape?”

Happy reading!

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Slow Times at my 5 Year High School Reunion

After my previous post, I decided to attend my high school reunion. I had my doubts though: would everyone think I'm still geeky? Would people think I'm a loser because I'm still finishing off my university degree? What am I going to answer when people ask for the one hundredth time, "So, what are you currently up to Tina?"

Dreading these thoughts, I had a plan: I'll hire a double D breasted hooker with lots of make-up and pretend it's me. Only problem was I didn't have $3,000 lying around my home to do that. My friends however, were against this and didn't see why I wanted a hooker to impersonate me. Though they did warn me to not wear a blazer because it would look as if I was trying too hard to impress my classmates. I haven't done anything remotely impressive, but apparently, the blazer was pushing it too far.

When I got to the function room at the Shamrock Lounge in Sydney, N.S.W - perhaps the perfect adult way to reminisce my high school memories - there were people in the room. The lounge was dimly lit, so I didn't recognise anyone.

With $300 tugged into my handbag, I decided to buy a drink. As I glanced around the room, no one's face looked familiar. This was a bad place in finding out what people I knew as teenagers looked like, if they were married, what they do for a living, who went to jail for a while. All the important questions.

Then a man aged in his latest forties came towards me,
"Oh hey Lizzie! What have you been doing since we graduated from med school?"
I couldn't move. My feet were cemented to the floor. I'm in the wrong reunion.
I answered the man anyway,
"Um hello!" I left my hand in a friendly little wave, and smiled around the room.
But nobody smiled back.
"Errm...I've just got to..." I started backing away. "Just go to..."
I turned. And I ran.

As I arrived back down the foyer, I'm panting slightly. Which is not surprising, since I've just done a half marathon along endless corridors, trying to get out of this place. I pressed the button for the lift, then paused to catch my breathe. I straightened my dress, transferred my handbag from one aching shoulder to the other, and began to walk calmly across the foyer towards the door. All I can think about is getting out of this function before anyone can...

"Tina!" comes a voice behind my head, and I froze. Shit. They've got me.
"Hello," I gulped, turning around.
It was a classmate of mine, standing right in front of me.
"Hi Tina, I'm just here to tell you that we didn't book a venue for 5 year reunion - so come down to the bar next door".

This day is unbelievable. Completely and utterly unreal.
I followed my classmate, clasping my beige tote bag tightly. I gave a nervous look to my classmate and I'm already having worrying about this reunion. What if everyone thinks I'm still pimply Tina? What if everyone thinks I'm a trumped-up unemployed uni student with no aim in life?

As I arrived at the bar, there were a few people sipping drinks. To my surprise, I realised a lot of the people attending the reunion had the same nagging thoughts as well. However, I didn't expect to feel that I could happily go back to hanging out with these people. After high school, I was able to seek out friends who had similar interests and ambitions, instead of those who happened to live a walking distance away.

I left at ten-thirty, when most of my friends had other parties to attend. We left the potent mixture of nostalgia and beer behind, realising our futures don't hinge on this reunion.

Happy reading!

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Heinz - Chicken in a Can

When Jessica Simpson uttered the famous comment, “Is this chicken what I have, or is it fish?” The workers over at ‘Chicken of the Sea’ must’ve shook their heads in disappointment.

Recently, I’ve been shaking my head in disappointment with Heinz’s new product – Chicken in a Can. Their new tagline? "Real chicken just got interesting again."
To me, it's gotten a whole lot disgusting.

I’m use to eating a succulent roast chicken which has been cooking away in the oven for an hour. Not from a can. I don’t even eat tuna in a can – so chicken is beyond me. The only meat I buy in a can is dog food. There’s something unsettling about chicken that’s been shredded to eternity, resembling more like cat food than chicken.

At the same time, I feel I am being hypocritical. Chicken has been in tinned cans for yonks, think Campbell’s chicken soup, or any tinned can soup with the ingredients chicken mentioned in the list. Or the well-known Spam, where people either like it or hate it. Why should I be turning my nose up when Heinz decides to put pure chicken in a can?

Maybe it’s the ad. It’s awful. I couldn’t think of anything worse that the possibility of chicken nail clippings in my food. Either way, I prefer a good roast chicken over a can any day.

What do you people think about the concept of chicken in a can?

Happy reading!

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Double Standards for Double Ds

Sometimes, I don't understand why society imposes double standards for double Ds. In one of my previous posts, I mentioned that Heidi Montag had ten cosmetic surgery procedures done on her, including upgrading her breasts from a double D to a triple D. What was more astounding is that people applaud Heidi for showing off her surgically enhanced cleavage.

Then you get Jessica Simpson, whose cleavage is au-naturale, is ridicule for showing her boobs in public. Recently, Jessica Simpson went out to dinner in a low-cut dress, leading to instant drama in Twitter. To make matters worse, Simpson often posts a picture of herself displaying a lot of cleavage, which caused a serious Twitter backlash. Let's face it, we're obsessed with breasts. You only need to glance a copy at the latest issue of Ralph magazine to realise that.

Though the question is, would people have been offended and insulted if Simpson's breasts were fake? I mean, women with small breasts feel shamed and are presured into having cosmetic surgery to increase their breast size. If that scares them, they can walk into in a lingerie store and purchase a push-up bra. Once they do either of those things, they are allowed to display them for all the world to see - like they're an investment.

Meanwhile, women who are blessed with big breasts are ridiculed and are pressured to wearing high cut dresses and blouses to avoid any attention.

Why should we celebrate one young woman who decides she needs ten different surgeries to make herself look perfect? While another is content with her body, but is punished. How is any lady in today's society expected to feel good?

Happy reading,

Monday, February 8, 2010

The Lost Letter from Parliament House

This letter was found at the footsteps of Parliament House. Before the letter was discovered, witnesses spotted a scantily clad young woman being escorted from the premises shouting incoherent babble.

However, an unnamed source sent the letter to Five Foot Nothing and here it is:

Tony love,

Remember me? It’s Amelia. I’m at Parliament House now. The place is filled with security guards. I’ve only got five minutes to write this letter and not get caught.

Anyway, I was THAT young lass from the Motherland. I think you said you had some sort of promotion in your government job. I want to congratulate you on that. I can’t remember what it was though; I had one too many pints of cold beer to recall anything.

When I first met you, you were coming out of Bondi Beach, looking hot and bronzed. Those pair of budgie smugglers just sealed the deal. I always imagined Aussie lads to be fit like you.

I’m the woman of your dreams Tony dear. I’ll make you breakfast every morning and I’ll save myself for you. I’m glad you’re not a priest. I use to fancy a priest down the road. He was a good-looking lad. It was a pity he only had eyes for Jesus though. He also started talking some nonsense that women should only have sex after marriage. I couldn’t stand a lad who treated women like farm animals. I would kick him into the gutter and give him the finger.

Oh sweetie, I heard you got a little bit of bad press recently. They said you were out of touch, conservative and religious. A night with me and you can easily solve all three of those problems, I promise. The press also said the Aussies prefer that Ruddy sot over you. Blimey, people here prefer Mr Sheen over a bronzed handsome man like you? Unbelievable! I can’t believe they aren’t besotted about your good looks.

I found the press so biased; I decided to conduct my own survey. I know the media can misconstrue things so I made my own survey to put my heart at ease. This task wasn’t as easy as I anticipated. Some of the people I asked to do a survey threw sticks at me. It was humiliating. Someone like you should teach these barbarians some manners! You don’t throw things at people.

While I’m at it, it seems like people think you don’t have any strengths. Silly colonials, everyone has their own strengths. I do too. I have the ability to down five pints of cold beer in eight seconds. It helps when Happy Hour comes to an end. Your strength Tony dear, is your Aussie accent. I fancy a man with an Aussie accent, it makes you manly. Also, I’m glad to hear that you Aussies are still loyal to the Motherland. Good to see you colonials are even more loyal than we are to the Royal Family.

Before we commit to the next step in our fairytale relationship, please tell me that what people are saying about your views on climate change isn’t true. A lot of people I did survey said this. Please, tell me it isn’t true. How else do you explain Antarctica is becoming smaller every year? Think about those poor little penguins! There is such a thing as global warming. I know deep down sweetie, you believe this is happening. Poor thing, this survey makes me realise you cop a lot of flak from the Aussies. Don’t worry dear; people bully other people for no apparent reason.

I don’t want to upset you Tony darling, but here are some of the responses the surveyors wrote:

Ruth, 71, Mona Vale

I find Abbott a hypocrite. He’s a Christian, but does un-Christian things like condemning migrants for embracing their own values.

Larry, 54, Kings Cross

He’s old-fashioned. He’s a homophobic prick who dislikes change. How can you be a good politician if you can’t embrace new ideas? It scares me that the Liberal party voted a leader who is so out-of-touch with current issue.

However, a few people had nice things to say. Here is one:

Amelia, 21, England

Tony Abbott? That man is sex on legs. You Aussies produce good-looking lads. Keep it up!

Oh bollocks! The guards are coming towards m-

Friday, February 5, 2010

A Sugarholic's Diary

My friend Jane* believes I'm addicted to sugar. I beg to differ. Even though I hide lollies around my room, doesn't make me guilty of being a sugarholic.

Sure, I like sweet food. Everyone does.

7:30 am: I'm busy reading the newspaper. Oooh, sugar! I want it in my cereal.

10:14 am:
I'm typing an article for a website. Oooh, biscuits! I grab three of those.

10:15 am:
I'm feeling tired. Oooh, chai lattes! I run downstairs to the cafe to purchase this.

12:00 pm: Lunch time. I walk to the kitchen and as I grab my lunch something grabs my attention. Oooh, choc-chip cookies! I grab one.

4:00 pm:
Again, I walk down the kitchen. The jar's empty. I say out loud to anyone who could hear me, "Who stole the cookies from the cookie jar?" I'm getting stroppy with my co-workers afterwards.

5:00 pm: TGIF drinks! Oooh, I want some lemon and lime bitters with vodka please. I'm happy again.

9.:30 pm: Having dinner with the other half. Oooh, tiramisu. Should I have it? I've eaten way too many sweets all day. Bugger it, have it.

Three hours later, I feel sorry that I divulged in so many sugary foods. I only have two packets of Oreos, a box of Cadbury favourites and Pop Tarts hidden in my room. It's decreased heaps.

Oh bugger it! I open up a packet of Tim Tams and bite both ends, stick it into a mug of hot chocolate and use it like a straw.

In hindsight, I look at this timeline and wonder if I am a sugarholic. Does anyone feel guilty at the amount of sweets they eat at times? Oh please, don't tell me I should attend Sugarholic Anonymous meetings!

Happy reading,

P.S - Parts of this entry may be slightly fabricated for entertainment value.

* Names have been changed for privacy reasons.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Did you enjoy High School?

Recently, I received an invitation on Facebook that my grade was going to hold a belated five year reunion. I thought school reunions occurred a decade after we finished school. I was wrong.

It got me thinking, did I enjoy high school? I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel when I step back through the doors of my high school years in two weeks time. However, I do remember a few things.

I remember that when I was at high school, I didn't have Facebook to distract me. I had Tickle. iPod's were still black and white and I had a huge crush on Adam Brody from The OC.

I remember I was embarrassed that I attended this high school. My school stuck out like a sore thumb compared to other schools in my area. The boys’ uniform resembled an outfit Steve Irwin would be proud of – khaki shirt and shorts with black school shoes.

Unlike other schools in my area, my school had a farm. While most girls my age were too busy stuffing their bras with oranges to make their breasts look bigger, I was milking cows and growing cabbages. While most students came home looking relatively clean, I came home looking like I spent three days down a mine shaft. I had gesso, clay and blue pen marks on my school uniform. My mum threw sticks at me after I committed this offence the twentieth time. As a result of this, I’ve been washing my clothes since.

I remember how I hated looking at myself in the mirror before I went to school each morning. I hated how I had a broad face and almond eyes, and wondered why I wasn’t a tall girl with long blonde hair, with sky blue eyes and a smile so bright, that
could save New York City a huge electricity bill.

My skin had more craters than the Earth's moon. I used any old thing at the local pharmacy to try and scrub it into submission. I would also go to a supermarket and buy foundation to hide my crater face. But as I was hopeless in applying foundation, I didn’t even use it at the end.

School wise? I was an average student - who did enough work to scrape by. My favourite subjects were recess and lunch. I couldn't wait to finish year twelve. I want to escape from all the stupid rules, chemistry and I didn't need sin, cos and tan to navigate my way through life.

Now? I wish someone told me the HSC had the same value as toilet paper. Or that 'real life' doesn't mean you need to be an accountant or a pharmacist to have a steady income and pay the mortgage.

After recalling all these memories from high school, I still want to go to the reunion. Seeing what people are up to these days. Who's married? Who's already got kids? All the important questions in life.

How was your high school days like? Would you go to your high school reunion? For those of you who have, what was the reunion like?

Happy reading!

Monday, February 1, 2010

Who wants to win the iPad battle?

Last time, Apple wanted to sue Woolies because their logo looked apple-y.

Now, Fujitsu wants to sue Apple because they have own the trademark to the iPad. In 2002, Fujitsu released a touchscreen, Wi-Fi and Bluetooth phone which looks like this:

It looks like Apple's new iPad which looks like this:

Like most people, I didn't know Fujitsu created an iPad. They even wanted to trademark the iPad name in 2003, but this was suspended at the U.S Patent and Trademark office because ANOTHER company wanted to register this name. This company was Mag-Tek. They wanted to register the name in 2000, only to abandon this process in 2002.

Even a Canadian company invented the breast-enhancing iPad bra. However, I've searched the interweb and I couldn't find the images to this.

Since none of them actually own the iPad trademark, I predict this case would go bust. Compared to what's happening at Haiti at the moment, this stuff is so trivial.

What are your thoughts about this?

Happy reading,
Five Foot Nothing © 2008 | Coded by Randomness | Illustration by Wai | Design by betterinpink!