Forty seven plastic spoons

So I WILL eventually get around to telling you guys all about my trip in the order in which it happened. But this particular moment of the trip is too good to keep to myself until I reach the appropriate point.

Yes, Lor and I made a vlog while we were in Orlando. And it is amazing. And because Lor edited it rather than me, it's of a much higher standard than my usual vlogs (from an editing perspective, at least. The content is probably on a similar level of ridiculousness.) YOU'RE WELCOME.

Also, we didn't have a tripod, so in ADDITION to rearranging the entire hotel room to be able to sit both of us in front of the camera, we had to kludge together a solution that would allow us to actually record without the need to hold the camera. That solution? THIS:

I promise that we both have normal skin tones in real life. The hotel lighting just made us really really yellow-y orange. I'd also like to give a shout out to Youtube for once again picking the derpiest shot of me to use as the screenshot for this video. SIGH.

Enjoy, kids.


Lor, I miss you. Come visit me.

K xx

A family tradition

It's the last Saturday in September, and as a Melbournian, that means just one thing - Grand Final Day. My beloved Geelong lost in rather spectacular form last weekend, so I have no particular vested interest in this year's grand final. Other than hoping (along with most of the rest of the nation!) that Collingwood lose to St. Kilda. No particular reason, other than that Collingwood are the team everyone loves to hate.

Anyway, I'm watching the grand final regardless of the teams, because I've seen every grand final since we moved back from England in 1995. Well, except 2002 when I was at uni in Leicester and didn't want to get up at 4am and go to the local Walkabout to see it... And, every year since 1995, our family has had a tradition. It's pretty weird, as traditions go. But most of our family traditions seem to be a bit that way. Especially the food related ones - candy cane ice cream for dessert at Christmas, Yorkshire pudding and roast veggies on Good Friday etc. It's hardly usual.

This tradition was created by the fact that on the day of the 1995 grand final, we arrived home from a holiday to Fiji. We only got home about half an hour before the footy started, and there was no food in the house. When we complained that we were hungry, Mum gave us $10, pointed us in the direction of the supermarket (which is 3 blocks away), and told us to buy a packet of Pringles each. And then she tortured us, and told us we were only allowed to open them after the first bounce...

The following year, we successfully argued a precedent, and Pringles have been associated with Grand Final day ever since. Although part of me suspects that I'm the only one who actually participates any more... Eh. You know what? I'm okay with that!  

K xx