I'm watching

I can't remember the last time I wrote about things that I love, so prepare yourself and take note of the recommendations about to come your way.

W've been watching such great TV since we moved to the US, but not on broadcast or cable TV. It's all legal, though - via streaming and mailed DVDs from Netflix. The amount of commercials we have to suffer through? Zero. What's not to love about that?


Shows that deserve an honourable mention are:

Mad Men - I've already raved about this, and can't wait to see the next season. I am dying for it, in fact.

Breaking Bad - I love how much Bryan Cranston has you cheering for him, despite the awful choices his character makes. The blur between right and wrong gets incredibly twisted. Sadly, we've been waiting an awful long time for Season 4 to become available (Netflix doesn't always acquire the DVDs immediately).

Dexter - For much the same reasons that I adore Breaking Bad. I became hooked on this back in Australia and have watched some here too, but am (impatiently) waiting for Season 6 to be available.

Weeds - Great for giggles and cringes. Like Dexter, this is actually an oldie that I got started on in Australia. Season 7 is lined up in our DVD queue.

Entourage - Snappy and a little outrageous, it's a bit of a guilty pleasure. I know I shouldn't like it for the way that woman are only on the periphery, but the one-liners are too good not to like. Although it can be quite superficial, it has much more heart than I expected. I still have a couple of series to work through.

30 Rock - Two words: Tina Fey. I am in awe of how her mind works. Now, we're up to date and (shock horror!) can actually watch the current episodes as they air on TV. With ads. Not quite the same when I've seen 90% of it ad-free, but I still love it.


Recent discoveries that I love:

Downton Abbey - It's been far too long since I've seen a British show (obviously), let alone one that has me swooning at the costumes and one-liners. Incredible writing. Season 2 is lined up in the DVD queue, and I cannot wait.

Source: tamunatko.blogspot.com via tamuna on Pinterest

Boardwalk Empire - Another period drama (the prohibition era in the 1920s) with amazing details. The writing is fantastic, too. We've nearly finished the first season, and I know I'll be back for more.

Sherlock - Another British show, portraying Sherlock Holmes as a modern-day character in London. Just watched the first episode last night, and was pulled in instantly. Great cast, great story, amazing cinematography and editing. A bonus is that it's always lovely to recognise places I've been. Alas, there are only three episodes in the first season, so it's going to take all my restraint not to watch the next two in a hurry.


There are simply not enough hours in the evenings. The sad truth is I probably spend more time online than actually watching TV, so I think I'll have gone grey by the time we get through the shows on our queue...

Tales of swearing

Precociousness is a trait I am becoming well acquainted with lately. The Faery just can't seem to help herself.

Take the following brief conversation from yesterday as an example:



The Faery (responding to the wrong TV show starting) said, "Oh fuck."

I couldn't quite believe my ears. "What did you just say?"

The Faery blinked, "Oh fuck."

I sucked in some air, "Ahhh... you know, that's a bad word you shouldn't say. I know you might hear grown-ups using it sometimes but it's really not a nice word and they shouldn't say it either. You can get into a lot of trouble at school if you say it. A lot of trouble."

(Yeah, I am one massive hypocrite, I know - sometimes there's no other word as satisfying to let rip as the old f-bomb, but I'm actually very careful not to say it when she's around.)

The Faery looked up at me, indignant that I'd clearly misunderstood her. "No, Mum... I didn't say 'fart', I said 'fuck'."



Yes. Fart is so much worse than fuck, right? (For the record, we're no prudes in this house about using the word fart.) 

Do you know how hard it was not to explode into giggles at this point? She obviously has no idea what fuck means, but at five years old, I'm in no hurry to clarify.

J had a chat with her about it later. He was great, and didn't patronise her. He let her know that when she grows up, yes, she can say it, but it's still a bad word and not for children to say. In the mean time, if she hears him say it when driving - or any other time - then he has to give her a dollar. Same deal if she hears me say it.

A human swear-jar. Her little face was aglow at the very thought. She's a stickler for rules and boundaries, so the idea of policing her own father? Awesome.

This wasn't the first time she'd tested out the word, but it's been almost three years since the last. When she was a little under three years old, I put her into one of those coin-operated ride-on cars at out local shopping centre. She pretended to drive, tooted the horn, and then muttered, "Youfuckenidiot."

Just like her daddy.

It was all in one word and - like yesterday - I thought I'd misheard so I asked her what she'd said. She repeated herself in barely a whisper, and on the spot, wondering if the people nearby had also heard, I nervously told her that we don't say that. Mentally, I was already berating J.

Twice more, that week, she uttered the same phrase. Both times, we were waiting to cross a street - the Faery perched on my hip - as a car slowly drove past.

Context-wise, it was a stirling effort on her behalf. I didn't want to turn it into a big deal, so apart from a quick "No, we don't say that", that was it. For some reason, she obliged and I never heard her say it again... until yesterday.

She's always been rather advanced with her language skills - something I've considered a blessing. However, J and I can no longer spell out words in front of her. Her literacy skills have come along in leaps and bounds, and she's pretty damn good at putting letters together to work out unfamiliar words. She's also blitzing the weekly lists of sight words she's expected to recognise. Additionally, the way she can read and put together Korean letters to form the syllables in words, and tell me the words... it blows my mind.

It's such an exciting time for her, learning to read and write. I remember so well how it felt like the world had opened up infinitely when I was able to read books by myself.

At the same time that this is happening for the Faery, Miss Pie is at a lovely stage where her speech is really improving. It's taken off at a slower pace than it did with her sister, but she's so pleased when she can make herself understood.

Watching their communicative skills blossom - first with speaking, and now with reading and writing - is beyond wonderful. The ESL teacher in me, especially, gets a real kick out of it.

Fun times.

Wordless Wednesday: Recent Randomness

For once, I'm going to shut up and let the photos do the talking.

Getting active

So... I've joined a gym.

It's been a very long time. The last time I belonged to a gym was ten years ago, when we lived in London. I was pretty good, and went regularly for the whole year. Not much about my body changed in that time, but my fitness went through the roof. I guess that's something, but I had been hoping to slim down a little too.

Cut to now. I'm okay with my body, but at the same time, there are bits I don't like, and I would be more than happy if I went down a dress size or two. My current weight is what it was pre-kids but it's all about the jiggle. A little less would be nice. My arms are heading dangerously into 'tuck shop lady arms' territory, and I need to sort that out.

There are a few other reasons why I've finally jumped into this fitness kick.

I've never been great at motivating myself to get active, so I've been fairly sedentary over recent years - especially since moving to Los Angeles. In Sydney, I did a hell of a lot of walking, as part of my daily routine. Even the walk to the bus stop (on my way to work) involved a trek up a hill each morning. We lived in a hilly area, with cafes and shops within a decent walking distance, so I only drove to the shops if it was raining. Here, even though it's much flatter, nothing is conveniently located without having to get in the car. Annoying.

I also want to start setting a better example now that the Faery is getting older, and more aware about healthy choices. I can't exactly preach to her about playing outside if she only sees me sitting on my toosh in my down time.

Lastly, I want some of those exercise endorphins, dammit. A more positive attitude and headspace is something I'm in need of, and I hear exercise is great for that... so bring it on.

Luckily, some friends have been raving about a nearby women's gym with child-minding. Just what I need! Having a few friendly faces to run into also helps.

It's early days - I only signed on last week - but so far it's been interesting. I can't help but chuckle already at some of the differences between my London gym experiences and my current situation. The gym in London was tucked away down a narrow lane way, behind a large railway station. It had a lot of squash courts (which I don't think is as popular here?), was mixed gender membership, and a number of the women played rugby. For fun.

In contrast, this gym is part of a large office building near a freeway. Plenty of parking available, naturally. Being a women's gym, there is definitely a wide range of clientele, but in terms of conforming to LA stereotypes, I've already seen quite a few women who have succumbed to Botox, dermal fillers, and silicone. The area we live in has a high Armenian population, so there are also plenty of girls who look, dress and sound like they could be long lost Kardashian sisters.

Anyhow, I have a feeling that by making the effort to hit the gym several times a week, it's going to cut into my internet time... but then, that's the point. Get off my arse, get active. Stop reading, start doing.

I just need to keep reminding myself of a quote I saw on Pinterest:

WHAT YOU DO TODAY CAN IMPROVE ALL YOUR TOMORROWS

I like it.

Portrait time

I've posted very few photos of myself on this blog. Initially, it was because I planned on remaining somewhat anonymous, but over time I've included enough tidbits about myself that I'm sure anyone who knows me in real life would figure it out if they stumbled across this blog. Well, that and the fact that my daughters' photos are all over this blog are a bit of a giveaway.

Anyhow, I saw a writing prompt the other day that appealed to me - not so much a writing prompt as a photo prompt, perhaps: Share a photo that was taken of you, that you think really captures who you are. 

Game on.

The funny thing was that I had to dig fairly far back in the old archives to find a picture that said enough about me. That I don't feel as though recent photos capture 'me' enough? A little strange, I know. Maybe they do, and it's just my perception. Maybe it's just that I really love the photo I chose, and it's a favourite.

So without further ado, I present this.

It's an oldie, taken back in the northern summer of 1999, when we'd first started living in London. I was the ripe old age of twenty-three. A baby, really.

I love this photo because it looks so timeless. Apart from my shoes, it could have been taken as far back as the 1960s - an era I have a soft spot for. I used to have quite a thing for head scarves, and the reasoning for that hasn't changed - they're a great way to hide bad hair days (of which I am blessed with many), and even though I can't remember the last time I wore one, I do tend to tie my hair back when I don't want to deal with it. That would be most days.

This photo captures that I'm a fairy casual dresser. I live in jeans and tops. Sneakers/ballet flats in the cooler months, thongs (flip-flops for you non-Aussie readers) and Birkenstocks in the summer. I don't own much in the way of dressier clothing, and can count on one hand the number of dresses I have.

I'm not big on make-up either. At the most, a bit of eye make-up, concealer and lip gloss... when I want to make the effort. That's not often, though. Some might see this as ballsy confidence ("Wow, no make-up? You must be pretty happy with how you look!") but me? I call it simple case of could-not-be-arsed.

Photos of me with various cats, not necessarily my own? There are plenty of those around. I'm a cat person, yes, but I've been smitten with particular dogs too.

The old VW Beetle here is a rather convenient final touch. It was our neighbours' car and we envied them (although not the part about driving one of these during English winters). We'd had one in Sydney, which we sold - sadly - prior to living in the UK.

Enough with the superficial stuff, anyway.

When I look at this photo, I'm not nostalgic for an adventurous spirit that once existed, because I know it's still there. Small kids are in the big picture now... but here I am, thirteen years later, and living in another foreign country.

In some ways I've changed (who doesn't after having kids?) but for the most part, I like the think that the essence of 'me' is still here.

Linking up with Mama Kat's Losin' It

Retro coolness

As I was taking the Faery to school this morning, it occurred to me that it was probably time to post something in here.

I parked the car in our usual spot, about a block away from the school. We got out, began walking up the street, and I began contemplating what to write...

 ...then I looked up and was greeted by this magnificent sight.

Is that not the most fabulous motor home you've ever seen?

If I had to pick a favourite era - in terms of style - it would be art deco (followed closely by the 1950s and 60s). Judging by the millions of blogs out there, I'm hardly unique but hey - the heart loves what it loves.

I could not stop gawking, and neither could all the other people who were walking past. Now, that is photoworthy, I thought, and whipped out my phone for some snaps.

As soon as I was back home, I googled 'decoliner' (the words on the side) and found this website. Quite an amazing feat. The owner - Randy Grubb - is an automotive artist, and used the chassis of a 1973 GMC motor home and a 1955 truck cabin to make this. I can only be in awe of such creativity and cleverness. 

And yes, that is a steering wheel on the top deck of the motor home - I couldn't see one inside. There is footage on YouTube of this being driven around Portland, Oregon, before the exterior looked as shiny as it does today.

I love how an ordinary morning can turn up something that's extraordinary so that before I know it, my blog has practically written itself.

PS - I am going to miss the Picnik site when it's gone in April. It's provided so much photo-tweaking fun.

Dragon Heart

Ever since I was a kid, I've had a love for thunderstorms.

I love the building suspense in the air as a storm approaches. How big is this storm going to be? I love watching the sky change as the the flashes jump between bruised clouds. I love the ear-splitting cracks of thunder when the storm is directly above: as a kid, counting one thousand, two thousand... I love the relief that comes with a storm. There's no better way to finish off a hot day in Sydney than with the storm that's likely to end it.

Years later, as J became familiar with my storm love, he told me it was because I was born in the Year of the Dragon, and the Chinese used to believe that thunder was the sound of dragons clashing in the sky. I loved that idea.

I don't really identify with horoscopes - never viewed myself as a proper Aries - but something about being a dragon appeals to me. For many years, I told myself if I ever got a tattoo, it would be an oriental dragon. Dragon tattoos may be a little clichéd to some, but it's less so if I am a dragon, right? Not everyone else with dragon tattoos are dragons.

(I never did get that tattoo. The publication of a certain bestselling Swedish novel killed that idea swiftly, although I read the trilogy, saw the films... and loved it all.)

This week has brought the Lunar New Year, completing three full cycles in my lifetime under the Chinese horoscope. The last time it was Year of the Dragon, it was 2000 and full of adventure - it was an amazing year.

To all the dragons out there: this is our year and it's going to be great.

My lovely dragon, who has known happier times.
Hatched in Bondi Markets in 1997,
it has had six homes, lived in three cities,
spent nearly five years in a box under my parents' house,
been knocked over by cats, lovingly glued back together,
and is currently well out of reach of little fingers.