Dessert Day - the ANZUS edition

That's right, yesterday was Dessert Day. And this time, Deidre and I had an extra special guest - my BFF Kat, who's in Melbourne for a week! And FINE, she's still Australian. But she's been living in New Zealand for like a millionty years now, and I really wanted an excuse to refer to us as the ANZUS trio...

ANYWAY.

The day started with me determined to get to the meeting point before the others. I left home 15 minutes before we were due to meet - said meeting point is about two minutes walk from my house - and arrived to find both Deidre and Kat already there. Obviously, my reaction was "DAMMIT!!!", because I was so determined to not do my usual "leave the house when Deidre texts me to say she's already there" routine. Womp womp.

We were typically vague about what we were actually going to make, and did the usual stand-around-in-the-supermarket-Googling-recipes-on-our-phones routine. We ended up deciding on cinnamon rolls and a chocolate swiss roll. After some Googling, we decided on Pioneer Woman's cinnamon rolls and Smitten Kitchen's naturally gluten free chocolate roll cake.

There was also an awkward moment in which I was totally in the way and a voice behind me said "Excuse me, ladies", and I turned around to see two police officers with a shopping trolley, and my immediate reaction was "OH GOD, WHAT DID I DO???" rather than "Oh, they can't get past me". Awkwardness followed, because OBVIOUSLY.

ANYWAY.

We started by making the roll dough (we only made a half quantity because 50 cinnamon rolls = TOO MANY CINNAMON ROLLS), except we didn't have the necessary enormous saucepan, so we tipped the liquid into the many cups of flour rather than the other way around. This may explain why it didn't rise as much as expected. Or it could be because my yeast is a bit shit and needs replacing... Either that or gluten free stuff just doesn't rise the way it should...

So we left the dough to think about what it had done, and got on with making the swiss roll. It was surprisingly easy, right up until the point where we had to take it out of the tin and roll it up in a wet tea towel to cool. Then there was much "Oh God"-ing and "WHAT IF IT BREAKS??"-ing, but luckily Kat's argument that it would be delicious even in crumb form was a convincing one and we pressed on successfully.

Then it was time to assemble the cinnamon rolls. We cut back quite dramatically on the quantity of butter we used, because REASONS, and mixed the sugar and cinnamon together before sprinkling it on:

Then it was time to roll! It was less stressful than anticipated, possibly because we'd rolled the dough out on baking paper, so we were able to use that to get us started:

Then it was into the pan! I think we were all a little hesitant about whether or not they'd work, because they still weren't doing the whole rising thing very well despite the presence of both yeast AND baking powder. But we ploughed on regardless:

While they were in the oven, we whipped up something that vaguely resembled the glaze that Pioneer Woman's recipe called for. We skimped on the butter again, used milk instead of coffee, and used maple syrup instead of maple flavouring. Once they were out of the oven, we drizzled the glaze over the top:

Then it was time for the most terrifying part of the day - unrolling, filling, and rerolling the swiss roll. It was pretty much as scary as anticipated, especially when a couple of cracks developed. But we managed get it assembled without the entire thing falling apart - WIN! (The tea towel seemed appropriate, given Kat's presence)

And so to the verdicts:
- The cinnamon rolls are pretty damned tasty, but had a slight gluten free aftertaste. They were definitely better warm - the cooler they are, the more they taste like a big greasy gluten free mess.
- The chocolate swiss roll? AMAZING. I might reduce the amount of cream next time because there was more cream than cake involved. But it was fabulous - light and fluffy and completely and utterly delicious. My mum rated it 25 out of 10, which gives you some indication of how tasty it was. Basically, y'all should go make one immediately.

Which one would you go for?

K xx

Sadly lacking in Timbits

On Friday night, I went to a rather unusual event. Well, unusual for Melbourne at any rate. Australia's not really big with the winter sports, on account of a freezing cold day = 12 degrees C, which isn't exactly conducive to ice and snow. You know? So when I saw that there was going to be an exhibition ice hockey match between Canada and the USA, I jumped at the chance to go.

While it may have been a good 20+ years since I lived in Canada, this doesn't mean that I won't cheer for them when given the opportunity. Apparently the rest of Melbourne felt the same way. Because when the US team skated out, there was a smattering of polite applause and then some awkward silence. When the Canadians appeared? The roof practically lifted off the stadium.

Then they had some "promising local talent" come out to sing the two national anthems. She was not only flat, but forgot the words to both of them and kind of made things up that were vaguely right but not really to fill in the gaps until she worked it out. So that was cringe worthy fun... Thankfully, they shooed her off the ice and got down to business pretty quickly.

There were fireworks and staged fights and mostly I ended up being insanely impressed at how quickly the umpires were able to get out of the way of the puck and/or large men in tons of protective gear that were hurtling towards them.

At the end of the first period, Canada were ahead by a good four goals and things were looking good. Then they brought out the most ridiculous piece of equipment in creation. No, it wasn't a Zamboni. Apparently they didn't think it warranted finding one for a whole two nights of professional level ice hockey. Instead, a bunch of guys came out with ice scrapers, and skated around sweeping the ice for about ten minutes. Then they brought out some kind of golf cart looking contraption with a water tank on the back of it. Said water tank was connected by hoses to a bunch of (what appeared to be) towels, and they drove around the rink using the wet towels to smooth the surface of the ice.

It was probably the least effective method they could have found. And, considering it was like 23 degrees in the stadium (at least up where we were sitting!), play had to be delayed until the slightly ridiculous quantities of water they put down had frozen.

The US made a comeback during the second period, and the commentators interviewed an AFL player and asked well thought out questions like "What do you see as a the major differences between AFL and ice hockey?". The entire stadium did a confused dog head tilt at that, because:
1. One takes place on grass, the other on ice.
2. One involves kicking an oval shaped ball, the other hitting a puck with sticks.
3. One requires tiny shorts and a sleeveless jumper, the other 10 kilos of protective padding and a pair of metal blades strapped to your feet.

One might, in fact, say that the only similarities between the two sports is that they're played in winter and are fast moving...

During the second break, they claimed to have a special prize to award and called out a couple of seat numbers. Except it turned out to be less special prize and more "unexpected proposal", which ended up being insanely awkward because she a) nearly fell over on the ice in her heels, and b) didn't respond for a good three minutes. Nothing says romance like proposing in front of 10,000 complete strangers!! O.o

Then a bunch of very tiny children in very long hockey jerseys came out and skated around at top speed. And then they got to meet all the players, which was pretty adorable.

The third period ended up being the most exciting, because it ended up being a really close match, and it was only the last ten minutes or so where they were actually playing at their full capability. I'm not sure whether it was the ice or whether they'd been told to take things slow for the dumb Australians who aren't used to ice hockey, but I rather wish the rest of the game had been played with the same speed and skill.

As it was, Canada emerged victorious through some great work on the part of the goalie, and through a wonky power play by the US which saw them replace their goalie with an attacker, leaving Canada one player down but with an open goal to shoot at.

And then they made it snow in the arena. Because obviously...

On the whole, it was an excellent evening. I got to sing O Canada at the top of my lungs, boo a Collingwood player, and watch some pretty excellent sport. Now if only they'd had Timbits for sale, it would have been perfect... *sigh*

Have you been to see any unfamiliar sports? Did you have even the faintest idea what was going on? Because I sure didn't...

K xx

Socially awkward, party of one

So if you know me at all, you'll know that I hate the phone pretty much more than anything ever. Hello, I'm a blogger. I work best in text format, you know? Of course you know. You guys have seen my vlogs.

So today something happened that means I can show you how to react like a normal person, and not the way I did. It's for your own good. And probably mine...

Anyway, the phone rang while I was using the exercise bike this morning. I managed to actually get OFF the exercise bike, which was a step in the right direction because usually me rushing to do such things ends like this:

Source

So I get to the phone and this happens:

Me: Hello, Kirsti speaking.
Random Old Lady: Yes, I'm phoning to confirm a booking?

Now, this is the point in the conversation where any normal person would say "Um. Booking?". But no, not me. Partly because I was brain addled from staggering off the exercise bike and to the phone, and partly because my parents are going away this weekend, and I foolishly assumed it was in regards to the booking for their accommodation. So:

Me: Oh. Okay?
ROL: Hello?
Me: Hello.
ROL: Hello? Yes, I'm calling to confirm a booking.
Me: Right.
ROL: So what do I need to give you?
Me: Um?? Is this about [insert town here] this weekend?
ROL: Oh, no. The booking's for the 25th.
Me: The 25th? Are you sure?
ROL: Yes. And my name is [insert name here] and my insurance policy is [insert number here].
Me: Oh. Um. I think you might have the wrong number.
ROL: No. The card said to ring this number.
Me: Is it possible that you dialled wrong?
ROL: No.
Me: Well, you've phoned a private residence.........
ROL: Oh. It's not a hospital?
Me: No. No, it's not.
ROL: Oh. But I phoned the number on the card!
Me: What was the number?
ROL: [insert number that's out by one digit here]
Me: Oh. You've phoned [insert actual number].
ROL: I've phoned what?
Me: [insert actual number].
ROL: Oh. WHOOPS. Sorry. Bye!

So yeah. That happened. Public service announcement: when you get a strange phone call, don't just assume that it's relevant to you...

Who hates the phone as much as I do?

K xx

Over my head

So remember how in my vlog the other day, I said that I was going to be in a choir concert in March?

Yeah. The first rehearsal was last night, and I *think* I may have bitten off a little more than I can chew, thinking that I can perform a 50 minute piece perfectly with three rehearsals and one run through with the orchestra... Because there are a number of things I hadn't considered before saying yes.

1. I haven't had to read music in over ten years.
2. I can still read the notes, but I suck at sight reading the rhythms and so tend to just sing everything in crotchets or minims.
3. Time signatures now mean nothing to me.
4. I can't read key signatures for shit.
5. Italian terms (beyond forte and piano) mean absolutely nothing. Last night, the conductor was like "I want you guys to sing this giojoso". Everyone else was all "Oh, sure!". I, on the other hand, was like "Uuuuuuuuuuuh????"
6. "Can you put an operatic release on the word 'faith'?" Well, I would. If I knew what that meant.
7.  When the lyrics for the soprano part get put above the stave, I completely lose track of where I'm up to. I think the only way to rectify this is to photocopy the entire score and highlight my part.
8. The tenors and basses get to sing the fun movement about sailing and storms and shit. We, on the other hand, get stuck with singing about saving prostitutes from shame. And not in an awesome, Les Mis kind of a way.
9. OH GOD, ANYTHING ABOVE AN E SEEMS REALLY REALLY HIGH.
10. I've forgotten how to breathe properly, and keep running out of breath in the middle of a phrase.
10. Basically, this is what I think the soprano part looks like:

Source

And this is what the score really looks like:

Source

So yeah. Basically, I'm kind of a drama queen.

Here's hoping that with a lot of practice before the next rehearsal - possibly including roping my brother C into helping me get the rhythms right - I don't suck quite as much. I could feel the girl next to me cringing as I attempted to find the right note, missed, and then did an awkward glissando to the note everyone else was singing.

On the plus side, this is the first time C and I have sung in a choir together in almost 20 years. Last time? We looked like this:

OH MY GOD, THE TEETH.

Hopefully we can get a more flattering picture this time around...

Any advice on how to dredge my musical abilities up from the depths of history???

K xx

Basketball, Baltimore and paperclips

I've been slacking off on telling you guys about my trip. Sorry. I've been struggling to write the assignments for it before semester starts, and am failing miserably... ANYWAY. Previously, we visited ALL THE FREAKING MONUMENTS EVER.

The following day started with a three hour lecture about the state of the US economy from a very enthusiastic lecturer of the "I'm old, I can say what I want" variety. As such, we came out of the lecture with such delightful quotes as "All countries are social experiments. Everyone is making it up as they go along. All you can do is hope that the folks with control over the big levers don't do something stupid." and "You have two options in regards to globalisation: play and be good at it. Or go live in a cave." 

So that was fun. From there, we had a break, complete with the most American of morning teas - Dunkin Donuts and Starbucks coffee. There were rather large quantities of both left at the end of the break. Once we'd finished our really quite awful delicious morning tea, we had an hour's lecture about staying safe on campus, which included telling us to phone the campus police to get a lift from the Metro station back to our hotel at night. Australian reactions to this? 

1. LOL, CAMPUS POLICE.

2. It's a seven minute walk on a well lit road.

3. Yeah, no.

I don't think anyone, even the Varsity Jocks who were out drinking until 3am pretty much every night, took them up on it... 

Then it was lunch, followed by a tour of the campus. Which is a buttload prettier than any university I've attended until now. I guess that's what happens when they're founded in 1856 with land already set aside by the government!! Weirdly, I KNOW I took photos on campus, but I now can't find any of them, so you'll have to settle for these photos of the mascot instead. Meet Testudo, y'all:

The university slogan is "Fear the Turtle", which is kind of hilarious because terrapins aren't exactly the scariest of beasts. When we finished the tour, Agatha Goodkin and I headed to the university bookshop, where I bought this hilariously tacky hoodie which for some INEXPLICABLE reason was massively marked down. (This is the back, FYI. And I plan on never wearing it outside the house)

I honestly think my favourite part was that when I bought it, there was a sticker on the front of it that said "If you like my front, you'll REALLY like my back!". Either that or the brand - Forever Fabulous. LULZ.

And then we spent the rest of the afternoon making the last minute decision to get tickets to see the Washington Wizards play the Oklahoma City Thunder and endeavouring to find a printer. Oh, also we did laundry. Because we're suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuper rock n roll. 

And then we went to the basketball. My zoom lens came with us.

View from our $14 seats:

View thanks to my zoom lens:

BOOYAH. Although there was kind of an awkward moment where it turned out that we'd sat in the wrong seats and had to clamber over to the row behind. Not only did I climb over the seat in a manner reminiscent of Jennifer Lawrence climbing the stairs to collect her Oscar, but when I finally sat down, I went "The alphabet is hard, yo." to explain the fact that we were sitting in row B instead of row C, and all the people around us were like:

Source

So yeah. That happened. Well done, Kirsti. 

The basketball was pretty amazing (especially seeing as we only paid $14!). The cheerleaders whipped their hair back and forth and I genuinely still don't see the point in them. I also didn't really see the point in the organ music. Or the constant timeouts. Or the fact that there was only like two minutes of sport at a time. BUT I DIGRESS. The Wizards won pretty much right on the buzzer, and we trekked back to our hotel. 

The following day, The Coolest People You Will Ever Meet (otherwise known as the library contingent) had a special trip to the National Archives to do some seriously awesomesauce training. It was completely amazing, and I'm still kind of astonished that ten people took a massive chunk out of their day to train the four of us. The rest of the group, incidentally, had to spend the entire day learning about the Dodd-Frank Act. Sucks to be them. 

On the Wednesday, we had a couple of site visits out in The Middle of Nowhere, Maryland. These were less than thrilling. And after the second site visit, we weirdly got dropped in downtown Baltimore for three hours. I still don't entirely understand why, and I spent most of it hanging out at Barnes & Noble. Because apparently Baltimore is the city that reads:

It also has quite a nice view across the harbour

I also may have had fried macaroni and cheese from the Cheesecake Factory for dinner. It was phenomenal. On the downside, the girl at the table next to me was a doctor, and was telling her friend horrifying stories about prolapsed uteruses. (Uteri? Uteruses? Screw it: baby growing organs.) So that was a gross accompaniment to dinner. 

The following day, we started classes bright and early. Our first class was on supply chain management, which basically required us to use a simulation game thing to pretend we were buying and selling computers. The Coolest People You Will Ever Meet...weren't great at it. The next class was on entrepreneurship. Which I have trouble spelling, let alone understanding. But the class started with everyone having to take 15 paperclips. And then we had to get into pairs and bet somewhere between one and three paperclips on the result of a coin toss. If we lost the toss, the other person got our paperclips. And at the end of a minute, we changed pairs. It was designed to show that entrepreneuring is hard work and most people will fail. 

Number of paperclips I had left at the end of the first round? ZERO. Yeah. I lost all my paperclips to a 21 year old undergrad in one minute. Clearly, I'm not cut out to be an entrepreneur........... 

Next up, the most awesome lunch venue in DC, and hanging out with Sarah and Lauren!! 

K xx

In which I rant about accents

So if you follow me on Twitter, you may know some of this already. But I discovered this morning that it's really hard to write differing pronunciations of "France". So, at the request of Eileen, (and for Gina's benefit because she was the one I was trying to explain it to) here's a video. In which I sing stuff from Les Miserables. And impersonate American accents. And generally make a fool of myself.

YOU'RE WELCOME. (Also, thank you Youtube for another spectacularly flattering screenshot...) I apologise in advance for my weird facial expressions. I have no idea what was going on there...


Oh, and here's the awesome video I was talking about in the video. God, it's like Inception, but with Youtube...


Random sort-of subject change: Who's excited about the Les Miserables movie that's coming out at Christmas time??

K xx

Thank you. Also, I vlogged.

This morning, I woke up to a bunch of tweet saying "Congratulations!!". Being slightly brain addled at stupid o'clock in the morning (okay, FINE. It was 9am. I'm unemployed!), it took me a while to work out that I've been voted 20SB's featured blogger of the month! There's a possibility that I Kermit flailed with excitement while still in bed.

So to honour the occasion, I vlogged. You're welcome.

And I'd very much like to thank Youtube for selecting the most flattering screenshot of all time. *sigh* (Oh, and contrary to appearances, I'm not actually a vampire. I just get sunburnt and then go back to being the palest person on the planet.)

Here's the accent vlog details:

Say this:

Aunt, route, wash, oil, theater, iron, salmon, caramel, fire, water, sure, data, ruin, crayon, toilet, New Orleans, pecan, both, again, probably, spitting image, Alabama, lawyer, coupon, mayonnaise, syrup, pajamas, caught

Answer these:

What is it called when you throw toilet paper on a house?

What is the bug that curls into a ball when you touch it?

What is the bubbly carbonated drink called?

What do you call gym shoes?

What do you say to address a group of people?

What do you call the kind of spider that has an oval-shaped body and extremely long legs?

What do you call your grandparents?

What do you call the wheeled contraption in which you carry groceries at the supermarket?

What do you call it when rain falls while the sun is shining?

What is the thing you use to change the TV channel?

Oh, and I also wanted to tell you guys that I thought of a category I left out of my crazy-people-at-the-gym list last week. (I said it in my first attempt at the vlog, and then completely forgot to mention it subsequently. Oh well....) Anyway, the category I left out was this:

The Woman Who Refuses to Bring a Handbag
I witnessed this the other day. She had her keys, her phone, her gym membership card, and I have no idea what else SHOVED DOWN THE FRONT OF HER BRA. Quite how she exercised while being stabbed in the boob by her keys I will never know.

So thank you again to everyone who voted for me, and I hope you enjoyed my awkward talking-with-my-hands vlogging. I love you guys a butt load.

K xx
PS. Thanks to everyone on Twitter for persuading me to actually post this vlog <3

Two years on...

Today, my lovelies, we're taking a little sojourn away from my trip to the US. Because two years ago today, I came home from the movies, sat down, and created my little corner of the interweb.

And I'm eternally grateful that I made that decision, because I've had the chance to become friends with so many truly awesome people. The blogosphere really is like a family if you want it to be! </schmaltz>

Anyway, to celebrate my second blogiversary, I'm having a giveaway!! And unlike last time, it's not chocolate related (sorry guys...).

So what am I giving away?

1. This gorgeous necklace made by the lovely Leah of Dressed for Sunday, which I bought MONTHS ago with a giveaway in mind. (And y'all should check out her stuff. It's awesome.)

2. Bee shaped cupcake/muffin pans. They're silicon, so you can reuse them again and again. Plus, they're really cute!

3. A cookie cutter shaped like a kangaroo. Because why the hell not! Oh, and this one comes with a story:
Store employee: Oh, cute. I'm going to hazard a guess and say you're making cookies!
Me: Actually, no. I'm having a giveaway on my blog.
Store employee: Oh, you have a blog on Youtube? Cool!
Me: Um, no. Not Youtube. One with words and stuff........

God, I'm eloquent. AnyI'maburblingidiot, here are the rules:

1. Leave me a comment and let me know which of the three you'd like to win! (Saying you want to win all three is fine too)
2. You don't have to be a follower (because I love my Wordpress friends too!), but if you like what you see, that'd be nice... ;)
3. No anonymous entries
4. Tweet about my giveaway for an extra entry. Leave a separate comment to let me know you've done so.
5. You have to be willing to give me your address. Half a dozen bloggers can vouch for the fact that I won't use it for nefarious purposes! ;)

The giveaway will close at 9pm AEDT on Saturday 15th October (that's 11am in the UK and 6am on the US east coast. Unless y'all go off daylight savings between now and then. In which case, I have NO clue!), and I'll draw the winners next Sunday.

Thanks for reading for the past two years. Here's to God only knows how many more!

Good luck,
K xx

A cautionary tale

Right. Due to popular demand, here we have what I hope will be the most embarrassing story ever to grace this site. It's more than a slight segue from the usual baking, but considering everyone I've told it to has more or less wet themselves laughing and then told me I need to write a blog post about it, here we have it.

Several weeks ago, I went shopping for wedding dresses with my lovely friend Em. But we started off the trip with bridesmaids' dresses. The first two Em had me try on were quite nice, although we declared that $350 for a bridesmaid's dress seemed more than a little excessive. (Slight tangent - that shop, which was by no means illustrious - had bridesmaids' dresses up to EIGHT HUNDRED DOLLARS!) They were nothing near the colour that Em has in mind, but as an example, they served their purpose.

The third dress, however, was where things got...interesting. The dress in question was fairly hideous - it was a red satin thing with an empire-ish waistline and a v-neckline. Em had basically decided that a style like that wasn't going to work anyway, and when I put the dress on, it was confirmed. The zipper wouldn't do up all the way, which I assumed just meant that I was slightly too fat for the dress. Turns out, not so much.

When I went to take the dress off, the zipper wouldn't so much as budge. As it wasn't done up all the way, I took the straps off and twisted the dress around so I could see what I was doing. At which point I noticed the zip had actually come off the dress on one side. And as a result, it wouldn't come undone, regardless of how much I tried. So I stuck my top back on and my jeans back on and, with the dress around my waist, headed out of the fitting room in search of assistance.

Em tried to get it undone, unsuccessfully. So we called over one of the staff to ask for help. She was (in my memory, which may be erroneous) about four feet tall, and told me - rather forcefully - that I should just take it off over my head. Weeeeeeeeeeeeell, I'd already tried that myself without success. Obviously... And I pointed this out accordingly.

She declared that it was possible, and dragged me back into the fitting room. There, she made me stand with my arms in the air like a little kid while she yanked at the dress. And when mere yanking failed, she started shoving - punching might not be considered hyperbole - at my boobs in an attempt to get the rather fitted waistband closer towards my head.

She did eventually succeed, but it was the longest five minutes of my life. During which time Em ran to the other end of the store so I wouldn't hear her laughing (I don't blame you Emmy, I probably would have done the same!!), and during which I was paranoid that they'd have to cut me out of the hideous thing and then make me pay for it. It didn't come to either of those, but it was a bit hit and run for a minute there.

So the lesson learnt is this: when trying on rather unattractive red satin bridesmaids' dresses, ALWAYS check that the zip isn't broken. Because you too might find yourself trapped in a fitting room with a tiny Asian woman groping you in an attempt to get you out of the aforementioned dress :S

Here endeth the humiliation...

Crossing her fingers that she never has to repeat that experience,
K xx