Shortcuts for Christmas

My cooking skills are elementary. Christmas is the time where you’re suppose to consume glace cherries, plum pudding and turkey. However, I think I’m the only person on Earth who dislikes consuming all of these produce.

Glace cherries repulse me. Their red or green jelly appearance makes me feel ill. They don’t resemble or taste anything like cherries. Even on December 25th, I wouldn’t go near one.

Plum pudding? Its appearance, without the custard reminds me of the content of animal waste, whose diet consists of vegetables and legumes. It’s big and brown and the thought of sticking this into my mouth, also repulses me.

In regards to turkey, I know I can hear readers through Twitter screaming, “But Christmas isn’t the same without a turkey!” This may be true, though I wish I could be consuming other forms of meat like a roast chicken instead.

So I decided to look through recipes for inspiration. Looking at the pictures of food books makes my mouth water. Following the instructions implicity however, is a different story. No matter how many times I re-read instructions of a recipe books, it never turns out the same way it’s shown in the book.

What I should be cooking should resemble something like this:



After reading through recipes to make bolotti bean brushchetta, salmon arancini and pork and chive dumplings, I’ve resorted to doing something which should be considered a Christmas crime. Instead I bought this:



And then pretending I made this all from scratch.

I don’t know why I bother, it’s not like anyone would care. It’s obvious I didn’t make it; I don’t re-stock the fridge with fresh vegetables, meat and fruit. It’s filled with fully-prepared meals and nothing in between. I can imagine my extended family sitting in the table, with my Dad putting on a straight face saying, “This is delicious, Tina”.

Has anyone taken drastic short-cuts to shorten Christmas preparations? Or dislike certain foods which were only meant to be eaten during Christmas? Please do tell me.

Happy reading (& a very Merry Christmas!)
5ft0

**Pictures courtesy of Better Homes & Gardens

I'm being up myself again - another blatant promotion

I know I haven't attended to this blog in a while - but I do have a very good reason for it. Other than end of year exams for uni and partying.

I can now finally reveal the project I'm working on:



I'm just so excited that OntheSOS was launched today. I woke up at seven this morning just to check out OntheSOS. It's pathetic, but I'm excited as a little kid on Christmas Day. I lie on my bed, telling myself to act like a twenty three year old and lay back and not think about it. But I can't resist. My mind was swimming with images of beautiful pictures taken around Sydney as well as my profile. I could picture people looking at my website reading intently, or not even give a toss about it. But I can finally see my ideas coming to life now.


Photo courtesy of Jessica Klingelfuss, OnTheSOS

What are people going to see? My name of course! Along with the other members of the team. But still, I can't contain my excitement at the moment.

Anyway, tell me what you think about the website. To see it, click here. I shall write more soon!

Happy reading,
5ft0

Is the concept of originality dead?

There's no such thing as originality. The need to be unique is condemned to be a thing of the past.

As a growing amount of authors, singers, designers - hell anyone who's in the creative field is accused of plagiarism these days. You only have to listen to every second song to hear a melody was taken from another song. Modern day films are identical to copies of classical films, we're stuck with the notion that we're running out of ideas. Ever since history was written onto books, we've always reworked themes to suit the context of our times. However, we may have a certain limit to how much imagination humanity has.

These days, everybody is copying everyone else. From chain store brands copying the latest fashion from the catwalks of Milan at the fraction of the price, to television stations copying each other in genres such as food and talent shows. It's not necessarily a bad thing. It encourages participates from both sides to do a better version of a theme. In recent years, the quality of the copy is either similar or even surpasses the original. It's accessible to the ordinary citizen and may bring a multitude of enviable characteristics. There's no need to chime the phrase, "Copy is inferior".

I prefer watching shows like "The 70s Show" than going through a time machine to live in the 70s, because I feel like it's a boring time for me. While plastic flowers will never die and don't require watering. My understanding of copies comes from personal experience.

As a kid, my parents bought a tea towel which featured "The Scream" by Van Gogh. It displayed all the aura a portrait has, as well as being a humble rag which was functional. It also had a ghosting effect, due to a printing fault. The towel was laid out in our kitchen, unlike the pompous 10 inch bullet proof glass.

When I saw the painting years later, it wasn't as magnificent as I thought it was. I missed the grease and vegetable oil that the man his jaundiced glow. What about the scorch mark that left him with one eye? The tea towel of "The Scream" was far better than the original.

The field of creativity has always been plagued by plagiarism and copy cats. Take a look at Britney Spears' version of Joan Jett's song, "I love Rock & Roll", or when Ryan Tedder used the same back tracking for the lyrics to Already Gone by Kelly Clarkson and Beyonce's Halo songs. Even in Copyright Law, there's no law about copying the idea itself - it is only copying the exact final product which will land you in hot water.



Did Chloe or Hermes steal the idea of the 'padlock' to be a main feature on bags?

In my case, if you copy the exact words or pictures from a writer or an artist, that's plagiarism. If you steal from many, it's called research.

Perhaps, the main aim of originality is to be copied. Take a look at the ubiquitous amounts of Louis Vuitton counterfeit bags sold at the markets, or hidden street corners.

We can delude ourselves to believe that our latest project is original - but most of us are born to copy. Even human nature is born to copy - from our bodies constantly replacing skin cells and blood, to the fact that when we reproduce, they're copies of ourselves.

In fact, we are the copies of our own ancestors.

So what do you think?

Happy reading!
5ft0

The Beast Called 'Real Life'

When I sixteen, my best friend and I had a dream, we detested the school we went to and wanted to leave it as soon as our last year of school came to a close. This plan consisted of us being wealthy in a matter of months of leaving our home town: she’ll be the first person who made millions selling worry dolls and I’d be in New York as a fashion stylist to Anna Wintour.

With the money we had from our fabulous jobs, we would buy every apartment across the globe – whatever we fancied, we could get it.

Even though our lives didn’t pan out the way we imagined, we’re still young. I feel my school girl frivolity is still alive – moving overseas may take a while, but it’s still simmering. There were other things I didn’t expect when I graduated all those years ago, to still be studying at a ripe old age of twenty three.

But what society thinks there should be a certain way to live life? To have a cool job, getting married and own a house by the time we’re twenty five? Are we setting ourselves a deadline that’s impossible to reach? Or are we trying to rush through things because we want to achieve everything now?

Recently, I had dinner with a few friends and all of them were talking about the dilemmas of life. One of them was particularly exhausted after she finished her rant.
“We worked hard at school to go to uni and study the degree we wanted. When we got to uni, we had to study hard to get the jobs we wanted. Then after that, we go back to uni to boost our qualifications. Not only that, but we need to get married. Then once we have kids, the cycle starts all over again”.

Few of the people at the table nodded. On the other hand, I didn’t agree.
“There are other ways to live life. That’s just one life, but you don’t have to live with it”.

“You’re still at uni. Uni life isn’t going to stay forever Tina. Real life has to begin sometime and this is it.”

I think to myself, I’m not going to be a university student forever – but if this is what real life is, it sounds tedious to me. Who says ‘real life’ is all about university degrees, marriage and wearing dull clothes?

Why do we feel the need to rush through our career, marriage and life in general? Do we always need to outdo our peers or is it something more than that?

I don’t hold the answers either –but I’ve observed that people finally reach ‘society’s expected goals’ such as graduating from university or being accepted into a corporate firm – it wasn’t as exciting as they first imagined. To compensate their disappointment, they try another goal such as getting married by a certain age, or some other goal. And again, to realise once they’ve attained it, it wasn’t as exciting as they thought it was.

What do you think?

Happy reading!
5ft0

Breaking up and defriending friends is hard

Have you tried to sever a friendship with a porcupine?

Me neither.

Ending a friendship takes on many forms: an ugly confrontation, or a polite, “I don’t think this is working out”, or just simply cutting ties with them by not returning their phone calls or responding to their e-mails.

Friendship breakups are a tricky topic. No matter which side you were on, the dumper or the dumpee – they’re fraught guilt and betrayal. Questions such as “What did I do wrong?” infest your mind. It’s quite obvious what they did was wrong – whether they betrayed you or taking credit of your work. Ending a friendship seems harsh. Until recently, there was a time I felt guilty ending a friendship. Let alone defriending an actual, real-life friend on Facebook.

Sure, drifting apart does happen. Instead of talking once a day, it may be once every three months. But the friendship contract in theory, is never-ending.

But actually defriending an actual, real-life friend on Facebook is much more difficult. They might not initially know you’ve defriended. It just appears as a blip on their friend tally. Telling a mate that you don’t like them anymore – just makes you want to drink more vodka. There’s no easy way out. No cliché phrases such as “It’s not me, it’s you” will cut it. With friendship breakups, it’s you. You can’t talk to someone who brings poison to your life. Nor you can be friends with someone who only takes advantage of your good nature.

However, there’s one easy way to tell if you’re doing the right thing. And that’s how you feel. When the person is out of your life, it feels like you can finally breathe for the first time in months. There’s a peaceful calm that comes when severing ties with the person. And GUESS WHAT? You no longer have your mind infested with negative thoughts such as, “Does this person actually like me or not?” because you’re too busy investing into friendships that truly make you happy. It feels easy and you wonder why you didn’t do it sooner.

You feel so stupid when you should've done it sooner even when Toby the dog knows the friendship is over.

Have you had to break up a friend because it was no longer working out? Or defriended someone on Facebook? It'll be great to know I'm not the only one.

Happy reading,
5ft0

Voting Woes

I'm not a voting virgin - this will be my second time in voting at a federal election. However, I'm still sitting on the fence on which party I'm going to vote this weekend.

The electorate I live in is a safe Labor seat. Our local Labor candidate is no-where to be found. Their name doesn't spring to my mind immediately. It's embarrassing to admit that.

The Liberal candidate is charming, they've taken the time to mail us glossy brochures in the post - pointing out all the things the Labor's party has done wrong over its three year tenure. While they made the effort to campaign around our local area, something still bugged me.

Maybe it's to do with an event that unfolded a few weeks ago.

I was meandering through the streets of my home town, witnessing an elderly man scavenging the bin and finding a half-eaten pork roll. I decided to get some ice coffee and while I was there, a middle-aged lady with coffee-stained teeth and dandruff-infested hair served me.

I glanced at the poster which had a picture of a potential local candidate. It was hanging on the wall of the cafe. The lady smiled at me and said,
"You should vote for him this election. He's an Asian - only an Asian can understand the hardships we go through".

Digesting what she said, I replied, "Have you tried being Aboriginal?"

The lady had no answer to my question.

Who are you going to vote this election?

Happy reading!
5ft0

Black Love

Falling in love is a beautiful thing, your heart is in a flutter and thoughts of romance and happily ever afters float around your head, constantly.

However, when you've got the wrong end of the stick when it comes to love, you suddenly don't feel hungry anymore. You don't want to eat your favourite chocolate bar. Your ice cream scoop shaped cheeks are turning bright red. Underneath it all, you feel cold and stupid.

You start doubting yourself. Of course they've got a partner. Of course they have. I'm an idiot aren't I. I should've known there was another person in the picture.

To top it off, you've been patronised as well with the other person saying, "I'm sorry if I led you on. I didn't know I did that".

You stare at the person in silence. The feeling of mortification rises exponentially. Your throat tightens and there's pain hitting in your chest. You really feel like the most dumbest person ever. The person who got completely the wrong end of the stick. You were so stupid in thinking the other person may have had feelings for you.

You feel sick with humiliation. Then you start to be self-conscious how others see you. You're the silly person who didn't understand the difference between Brie and Camembert cheese. You're the person who didn't know Matt Preston from Masterchef wears cravats. Above all, you think you're the only person in the world where people won't take you seriously.

You don't like how you were being treated, so you stiffly stand up and defend yourself. Then before they can say anything, you run out of the room quickly, filled with disappointed tears.

When you arrive home, you feel weary and miserable. Real life sinks in. Home to a place where it still smells like burnt peanuts and piles of bills stacked on the kitchen bench. You call a friend up to distract yourself - you get hysterical if you should purchase a bag from Country Road or Mimco and how you're mystified that people find Justin Bieber talented.

You go to bed forgetting about the whole situation. Only to wake up the next morning, with all the memories rushing back to you like a scary movie. You wake up looking pale and unsteady and wishing you could take a sickie. You want to stay home and watch day time telly, but you don't. You go out and do your normal thing, just because you don't want to be swallowed by the sadness of the situation.

Happy reading,
5ft0