The times they are a changin'

Confession: I think my life has turned into a classic hits radio station. I've got all the symptoms.

To begin with - I'm empathising with the Skyhooks. And by that I mean All My Friends Are Getting Married (not Women In Uniform or Ego thank you very much). It seems we've turned the maturity corner and people I know, people who knew me when I still couldn't tie my shoe laces (sure I may have been 12, but what's it to you?) are finding life partners and very happily settling down. It's exciting stuff! But at each wedding I attend, I can't shake the feeling that I'm "playing dress ups". That I'm actually just a kid who sweet talked my way on to the elusive Adults Table. At what point do your physical and mental age decide to get hitched?

Then my other friends are channeling Peter, Paul and Mary. While some of my nearest and dearest are Going To The Chapel, others are Leaving On A Jet Plane. And the worst bit? Don't know when they'll be back again (badum chhh, yes I did just do that). They're packing their bags and heading for another hemisphere, another life, another group of friends to have in-jokes with (mermaid Eloise anyone?). I'm so excited for them! But a little part of me (okay bigger than I'd like to admit) wishes they had to stay with me, because realistically things won't ever be the same again. Wow Em, big revelation there. But when they come home there is no telling where or who we will be then. Will we still want to badger every DJ in Sydney into playing Wham!? Or have secret chats in a smokey kitchen corner? And will we still go to trivia and have ridiculous team names referencing Fergie? (Wham! and Fergie... We are an exciting bunch). Either way, when you're all gone you can bet that I'm going to Wish You Were Here.

It's also time that I listen to the Mac when they tell me that you can Go Your Own Way. I guess what it all comes down to is that I can be incredibly insecure about everything and anything (seriously try me). I spend a whole lot of nervous energy (I have it in spades) convincing myself that I don't want to be married yet and I'm okay with the fact that I haven't travelled a whole heap. And this is only made worse by people asking why we bought an apartment rather than go overseas or when are we going to get engaged? Ughh stop! My life is so good and I chose it! I have a gorgeous boyfriend, a fab family and friends so really no complaints here. Time to stop comparing what I'm doing to what everyone else is doing. Your way is great, it might just be a little different to mine and we're all happy! Right?!

Oh okay, fine - Go Your Own Way was actually a tormented break up song from Lindsey Buckingham to Stevie Nicks and not such an uplifting "Yay you and your life choices!" song but the sentiment of the title works so bear with me.

Bob Dylan was right... the Times They Are A-Changing and it's okay! I'm really happy with where I am. And I can be happy with me and also be genuinely glad people have found A Whole Lotta Love and want to make it official. And sure I'm incredibly sad to say goodbye to friends who are heading Over The Hills & Far Away, but we've had so much fun already (plus we all have so many incriminating stories of one another that we have no choice but to stay friends forever and ever). All I ask is that you Wake Me Up Before You Go Go.

Pour 1 cup of hot water over blog, steep for 10 minutes and strain

Hiiii! Long time no see to all my invisible readers. How's tricks?

I've been in a funk! No denying it and I think practically every blogger saying - DON'T APOLOGISE FOR NOT BLOGGING. But let's be honest, I think if I'm apologising for anything it should be the fact I'm subjecting you all to my blogging again. Suckers...

I have a nickname - Hoople Bear... or on occasion Hoople The Gloopsing Bear. Don't ask me what a Hoople is because I don't think I can answer, but I love it as a nickname. It's one of many unusual nicknames I've picked up from my family over the years. But we don't stop at nicknames, we have weird words and phrases that seem to have been passed down. Kind of like hilarious and strange family heirlooms, except you can't take them on Antiques Roadshow (trust me, I've tried). I'm curious - does your family have any idiosyncrasies or quirks that simply don't make sense to people outside the family unit? Or maybe they don't even make sense within the family unit? I've got a few...

Take for example the fact we refer to our nose as a "schnozzleberrybug". Um excuse, but what?!?

As far back as I can remember my family has thrown around the phrase "if you do it on your birthday you'll have to do it all year round". So according to this theory, if you unpack the dishwasher on your birthday, then you'd have to unpack the dishwasher every day for the following 364 days (way to make me resent leap years...). For 25 years, give or take, I naively assumed that everyone subscribed to this birthday folklore. Apparently not so much. I kind of wish I'd thought the theory through - I mean if there is one day of the year that you are likely to splash out and do something out of the ordinary, it's probably your birthday. You eat cake, you see loved ones, you get presents! It's a nice theory and safe to say I'm not against people presenting me with gifts on a daily basis. I fully intend to continue this Ralston birthday folklore because it's ours and it's fun to bring up every birthday, even if it's not steeped in reality.

Speaking of steeping things... new teapots! (get it? you steep tea.... yeah possibly the worse segue ever). I've started to design some smaller, ready to ship pots. Customs take the wind out of my sails, even though my customers are the best - the pressure of deadlines and my incredible ability to procrastinate do not a happy Emma make. So I love these! They're little and they're fun - at least I hope someone thinks so! Without further ado...

You can have a further look see in my store (hmmm subtle).

What is it they say about small things?

I was far too excited when I saw this "Go Coco" drink and instantly thought of Mean Girls. I love Mean Girls with the passion of a thousand eleven year olds who loved Taylor Hanson circa 1997 and believe it to be the most quotable movie ever (sorry Casablanca, you're a bit passe). So you can bet it's pretty much the only thing I talked about ALL WEEKEND after I saw it (yes, I'm the annoying friend. As if you didn't know that already). And yes, I made quick work of modifying it to its current state.Totally think  they should change the brand name to this, maybe then they wouldn't need to sell it off for $1. Or maybe it's just because coconut water tastes like Wipeout/Bombora/Rumba (cheap Malibu alternative, I know them well) without any of the fun. Either way I think I got my dollar's worth even if I didn't drink much of it.

And on that note - this meme is why the internet was invented, I swear. We're kind of ridiculously obsessed with internet memes at the moment - I'm partial to Y U NO guy and he's a fan of Foul Bachelor Frog. I think we have a problem. Does this make little to no sense to you? Google memebase and thank me later, or curse me when it's 2am and you're still looking at useless internet rubbish.

A day in the life of an extra ordinary person

On Friday night I walked in to Priceline with the intention of buying some velcro hair rollers and some dry shampoo (Seriously, get on this people. Life changing, no exaggeration.) and leaving quickly thereafter. For the record you do not "pay less at Priceline" if you buy more than you intended (they lie through song, jerks) and I somehow walked out significantly poorer. But on the plus side I now have a lot of stuff... because I really needed more of that. I also got some nail polish in jade green and a nail art pen, and armed with both these things a night’s worth of frustration. Win win!

Owen and I went to see Griff the Invisible and grabbed some lunch at Mappen before we went in. I almost chickened out because I’m one of those people who doesn’t like to look like they’re lost or like they don’t know what they’re doing. But stress not my neurotic soulmate, Mappen have a sign with clear steps telling you how to order so you won’t lose any cred, or look plain stupid.

They also have this apple drink – WITH REAL FRUIT JUICE! - all 1% of it. The food was decent and cheap and it’s a matter of opinion as to whether I got a little “over-excited” at the tempura self serve. Either way I walked out of there covered in a thin layer of broth – Emma, udon and chopsticks do not a match make. And why yes my boyfriend does have pretty hands, thanks for noticing!

While we're on the minutae of my life - I recently discovered that my Japanese Kit Kat collection was kind of old... as in, they were kind of out of date (don't ask me if I still ate them, I won't answer truthfully). I’m not normally the kind of person to ration sweets of any kind, give me a tub of ice-cream and I will soon return said tub back to you empty, accompanied only by the milky smile on my face. But because they’re so damn expensive and relatively tricky to find, I went against my better judgement (better judgement which would have required me eating them all in one hour). So I headed to IGA in Market City to replenish my stocks.

Lemonade and Coca Cola! I’m a bit (read: incredibly) indecisive so this threw me for a minute... until I realised I could just eat both. Problem solved! I like solving problems.

18:04 to Waterfall

I'm blogging on the train, a train ride that has thus far remained without mishap (spoke too soon, why oh why is this an all stations?!) Yesterday I'm pretty sure I elbowed a bald man directly in his bald spot, had to be tapped three times on the shoulder because I was unknowingly in the way and said sorry no less than 7 times. That is nothing new for me though. I'm an obsessive apologist.

Did you just step on my toe? Don't worry about it! I mean I shouldn't have left my toe lying around where unsuspecting people could accidentally tread on it, so really please accept my apology.

You can also bet I was that wuss in primary school who accidentally hurt my fellow play partner (who was probably Kristy from the Babysitters Club or one of the Samurai Pizza Cats. We played some serious RPGs for 9 year olds) and would be crying far louder and for much longer than the injured party. It's not that I wanted the attention (although looking back it sure sounds like I did), it was more that I felt so terribly guilty and awful about what I'd done. And I still do, about everything.

I still feel sick to my stomach remembering the time my smart alec 16 year old self made snarky comments about a gift from a relative infront of said relative, without realising it until my parents gestures, simultaneously subtle and furious, helped me cotton on to my faux pas. No joke, my stomach turns and I feel the exact shame I did the first time. It's been 10 years and I'm turning red just thinking about it.

Or when we went to a restaurant for my Papa's birthday and in the hullabaloo of saying hello to loved ones my handbag knocked a woman's wine glass off the table, sending it hurtling to the floor. Cue entire restaurant staring and an awkward silence quickly filled with "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Oh god, it's all over your shoes. Please let me buy you another glass. I'm so incredibly sorry. I'll buy you a whole bottle. Oh god, I'm SO sorry". She politely refused and I sulked back to my table (shedding a few embarrased tears) only to interrupt her dinner again to try and force another glass of wine on her. Pretty sure all she wanted was for me to get the hell away from her.

Yeesh the shame of it all. And although saying sorry so often surely seems insincere, I can promise you I mean each and every single one (unless it's one of those sarcastic sor-eeee kind of sorrys).

I think my friends and family are pretty used to the sound of my many apologies but I also know it grates. Oh thinks that's the quickest way to track me down in a crowd - listen out for a chorus of "Sorry! Sorry! I'm so sorry!". And you know what? That just makes me want to say.... Shut up jerk. (Okay I really wanted to say Sorry. And now I feel bad for calling him a jerk. Sorry bub!).


-Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

I left my heart in Shibuya

2011 has been a crazy year for this old Earth. Already we've seen it alight, flooded and broken and it's only March. In January I stretched my money as far as I could and emptied all I had left into the Queensland flood appeal. Christchurch soon followed and now Japan - each one worse than what came before and I don't have all that much left to give. This makes me feel like a royal jerk, especially when I think about how much Japan has influenced and sweetened my life. But I'm still determined to find a way to help where I can. And thanks to a handful of incredible people who are equal parts creative and generous, it's actually not too hard to help in your own small way.

Start off by buying the Hello Sandwich Gift Wrapping Zine for $5USD, with all the proceeds going to Japan. The best bit is you're actually doing yourself a huge favour in owning this - the things that Ebony can do with a pair of scissors and a plastic bag will probably change your life, no hyperbole here. (Also it might say it's sold out by if you follow the link on the page it'll still work!)

Secondly swing by Catkin and Teasel and snap up a set of Eloise's Save Japan postcards, with 100% of proceeds going to the Red Cross. They're gorgeously designed and I reckon you'll never want to give them away, but instead keep them all for yourself.

 

And maybe if you're a little more flush with dosh, you could afford this cute print by Paul Vickers, which sums up Japan perfectly for me.

And so I think it's only fair I do my bit too! Buy a teapot from Hey Emmaline in March and I'll donate $10 from each order to the Red Cross specifically for the Japan Earthquake relief.

Lessons in being thrifty - travel edition

They say change is as good as a holiday right? Well I'm banking on that being true and the change being my hair colour, because I can't exactly afford a round the world ticket at the moment. But as I was previously explaining (or was it complaining? eh...tomato tomato... okay, that doesn't work on the internet) I'm learning to be creative with my financial situation... or lack there of.

Step 1 - be eternally grateful your grandparents built a shack near a beach for you 70 years ago (yes, just for me I'm sure) and then thank all your relatives for letting you stay there for free on the best weekend in March. And shriek like a girl every time you run to the outdoor toilet in the dark (it's part of the authentic experience). If you don't have said shack, ring your oldest living relation and demand to know why.

Step 2 - make crepes with your mumma and pretend you're in gay ol' Paris (even though you've never been there and they probs don't have Sunbeam over there. Hey lets not get caught up in details people). Optional is how much crepe mixture you get on the crepe iron... I think the less is more approach works well for me. No crepe iron or just too lazy? Buy a french stick or raid garden for escargot... a good wash and they'll be right.

Step 3 - flick through happy snaps from previous holidays and be grateful you've already had a few nice trips, appreciating that not everyone is quite so lucky. Or alternatively flick through happy snaps from previous holidays and slide into a mild depression at the thought that you're sitting at your computer writing a blog entry instead of maxing out your credit card at Urban Outfitters in the East Village or hurrying across the Shibuya crossing with oh.. you know... a couple of hundred other people. (If you've read my whole "About Me" spiel, you'll know that Japan and the Japanese people have a big chunk of my heart reserved specifically for them... probably equal to the square metres that chocolate and or Youtube videos of animals sneezing current take up combined and times by two (yup I have a heart so big I must talk in square metre). We totally intend(ed) to head back there later this year and I'm hoping that's still a possibility.) 
Cue photo dump...

But c'est la vie. I've done both of those things and more so I'm just going to count myself pretty damn lucky and pinch my pennies (oh so hard) til my time rolls around again. And probably start from Step 1 again... oh man, I'm going to be so sick of crepes by the time I can afford a holiday.