Showing posts with label grumpy old woman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grumpy old woman. Show all posts

Friday, March 27, 2009

I came to eat...

If you've ever seen 'The Fisher King', there's a scene where a neurotic outlines her behaviour at parties:

I don't make an impression on people.
At office parties, I rearrange
the hors d'oeuvres...
...while people are eating them,
so that the platters will remain full.


Whilst I don't paw at the food, I do have a compulsion to tidy up. If there's food left half eaten, lying about, I will scoop it up and throw it into the bin and I would never leave my plate on someone's TV or bookcase.

The thing is, I'm not terribly tidy at home. I could leave a frying pan soaking for a few days before I wash it, I can leave a teaspoon lying on the bench thinking I will reuse it at a later stage, I mean, I just stirred tea with it, it doesn't need a soapy wash. I even go so far as to reuse a juice glass by placing it in the fridge between drinks (so it doesn't attract vermin) and using it all week before it gets a little cloudy and suspect looking.

Nope, it's only at parties. Of course, the main reasons are obvious to me.

1. I never got the concept of a party, of letting loose, having too much to drink and sharing varying stories with strangers. I think I'm too controlling for that and I am the cheapest drunk so I can't drink too much without becoming rather foolish. This means I'm hyper-conscious of dirty plates piling up or a glass of wine balanced precariously on an arm rest.
2. I appreciate the host going to so much work inviting and sharing food and drink with us that I want to return the favour as best I know how. Again, pertaining to my lack of experience in knowing how to act at parties, this should be the last thing on my mind, I mean, that's what the gift is for!
3. I like parties where there's lots of food. To me, a party equates to food, endless food. At parties, I am the quiet one, hovering around the food table, eating all the party pies and snapping up the little quiches and sushi rolls. At the latest party I attended, it was a Curry Laksa Party where guests assembled their own Laksas. There was enough to assemble 2-3 bowls each. To top it off, there were three cakes to choose from afterwards. Ahh, such is bliss.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Non-disclosure

I seem to have come to an age where I have all the different friendship circles I will ever desire. They mainly consist of people I met at school or during the early days of my work life. I don't remember the last time I exchanged various details of my life with a stranger as part of some forced conversation because we happened to be in close proximity to each other, and for all that to actually turn into a friendship. What do you do? Where do you live? Attached or single? How old? Do you have kids?

When online these days, I keep many of the details of my personal life private. If I don't need any more real life friends, why encourage online friendships where you may find yourself emailing someone in another city to discuss all the details of your daily life which may or may not lead to some sort of emotional attachment?

I am sometimes tempted to blurt out various details of my life but am stopped at the last minute by either paranoia or a purist sense that if I have decided not to discuss that part of my life here, then there is no need to even mention any of it, even in passing. For example, if I am discussing my home, I do not let on as to whether I have children or a partner or even if I am still living with my parents.

Sure, all my entries are personal in nature and I have even discussed a sister or two, but the decision not to discuss those somewhat intriguing parts of one's life does not mean readers are missing something. Disclosure of a person's family or work life doesn't mean you know them no matter what commonalities can be drawn between your life and theirs.

And if you still think I am a single 20-something who is independently wealthy, confident and smart, three out of five ain't bad, or is it? :P

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

I turned into a Grumpy Old Woman...


Today...
Originally uploaded by donna_3011

My birthday was a few weeks ago and without divulging my exact age, safe to say the following thoughts may spring to mind when mentioning this age (and over):"The clock is ticking", "No kids? What the hell are you waiting for?" but since each age is really the New Decade Before, I'm practically a kid myself...haha.

Here's how I know I'm getting older and not just older in the yearly birthday thing, but the very apparent changes that have come across me this year to signal a moving away from youth towards becoming a fuddy duddy:

I recently switched over to listening to breakfast radio on ABC Melbourne, the ABC being the government broadcaster. I'm tired of ads and radio announcers who think it's fascinating to detail their daily lives of inept partners and misbehaving kids. I actually want to hear more than a soundbite of news about the rest of the world outside of gangland murderers and celebrity births.

Further to the above point, I spend my TV viewing time watching shows primarily on ABC and SBS. If I watch CSI-type shows, I spend the hour pointing out the ludicrousness of their lab setups, their computer applications and the characters' appearance in general - quite a bit of fun actually, but probably not for my viewing companion.

Security folk no longer ask me for ID, in fact, I no longer attend places which would need bouncers.

I enjoy gardening and chatting to people much older than me about fruit trees and growing French Tarragon.

I don't have Facebook nor MySpace accounts and don't care to be poked nor tickled, online.

I have a 4 year old mobile phone that can't play music nor take photos and I like it.

I snorted with agreement with most of the last series of Grumpy Old Women.

I named my blog "Baked Goods and Broccoli"...

On the other hand, the child-like things I enjoy include doing twirls, squealing when feeling joyous and thinking up scenarios for what you would do to The Joker if he turned up at your door (the latter asked to me by a young un' to which replies were 'Throw a cream pie in his face', 'Drop a water bomb on his head'...)

But all the sentiments you hear are correct, time does pass very quickly, you should embrace the things and people you love and do all you can to make yourselves happy...holy canoli, even that made me nauseous to type. I guess I'm not too old to believe that the best years are yet to come.