spice up your life?

so i’m back in the rut of the normal daily grind.

and the task of blogging once again becomes somewhat arduous and irksome as opposed to my usual manic rants to which you are all accustomed….

work is a yawn of days stretching out into an endless horizon.

a new school each day, but in essence each the same as the day before.

no new contracts to brag over.. no chance to start a new project and get carried away in the daily goings on of the little people…

the bills get paid.

the groceries done,

the house cleaned and washing hung to dry.

yup.. the stuff good blogs arent made of…

the dizzy, heady days of random dates and the fiascos that followed gladly finished… (so much for my dreams of my own website: datelaurie.com) but still too new to fully introduce a new caped crusader to these regular and whacky laurie misadventures…. although in time i feel there may be a regular accomplice to my crimes of which i speak…

but as the days blend into the growing blandness which is my new reality…

thank goodness for holidays..

and despite the financial insecurity that comes as a drawback of the icky evil casual system, i of course relish every opportunity to hit the road and taste the thrill of misadventure….

so herein lies the problem…

the mind grows stale, the fingers numb…

the joy of blog is so dusted with the cobwebs of routine that the mind freezes…

i can go left..

i can go right,

i could regale the pure hilarity of the hostel ferals whom revealed both the sexual fragilities of todays misguided youth… or the sheer horror that i am no longer one of those misguided youth..

but instead,

today i take you all on the culinary rollercoaster which is the spice up your life dinner box food challenge.

and underpinning all this is the biggest question.

why?

why accept such a ludicrous challenge.

why succumb to the gastrointestinal torture synonomous with any company liable to produce such a meal??

and to all the  non believers out there, i say.

why not?

it was a road trip.

we were hungry

its what you do.

its how we roll…

so, in the fine location of surfers the bar was set.

ding ding ding went the bell.

round one…

(now, i am not the SMALLEST person in the world… and the gods surely know i love to eat….)

but i am still only human after all…

and like all good (cough cough) athletes.. one cant start the bar too high…

so the challenge begins with the share meal…

step one.

the maccas family dinner box.

and, (as borrowed from my sister) despite years of training and perfection of the correct pickle velocity hurl technique to ensure maximum stick on even the roughest of surfaces, the rules of the game do state that ALL of the meal must be consumed…. including said pickle

so, ready, willing and able, accomplice by my side,

we began…

a cardiologists nightmare.

fat, 2 all beef patties, oil, special sauce, lettuce, gristle, carbs, cheese (although this is still open to interpretation and is yet to be proven as actually being cheese and not merely an edible form of yellow plastic), pickles, onions (as if my bowels werent going to be worked out enough.. ONIONS god dammit! do these people have no brains??!!! or no concept of the gastrointestinal effects of onions!!) and a good old fashioned “sesame seed” bun…

TWO serves of greasy, nearly see through fries..

a cheeseburger (though lets face it.. there is nothing wrong with cheeseburgers)

and a generous helping of “chicken” nuggets..

all washed down with enough soft drink to ensure i peed caffeine for the next 2 days

easy.

perhaps i am almost ready to fly this adventure solo (which is of course the final challenge set before me in this ridiculous game of family meals…)

but sense prevailed, and i decided, an early win in the training did not a gold medal performance make..

and thus,

last night, i resumed my special training and moved one step closer to food challenge victory (or so i thought) by attempting the second feat.

step two

the oporto’s family meal deal.

should have been easy

my tummy muscles pre trained from the workout of maccas grease…

my mouth and eyes aware of the enslaught coming…

heck..

by rights i should have romped this one…

a “kiddies” burger..

heck, it didnt even have chili sauce!!! (they’re having a laugh right?!! where is the challenge in this??)

super yummy chips and chicken salt (bring it on!)

and without even having to worry about the follow up nuggets, only one more burger and 2 cans of soft drink stood in the way of an oportos victory..

chomp chomp chew chew…

grumble, gurgle, bubble and pop.

but hark? what pray is that sound?

chomp chomp…

gurgle, fizzle, gnagle, whiiiirrrrrl.

it was my belly.

an angry opponent.

disputing the champion…

chomp, chomp, chomp…

FAIL.

not failure by chili sauce.

failure by tummy explosion.

no nuggets and defeated still.

damn chicken.

i reckon it must enlarge on contact with the stomach.

and as i sat,

eyes bulging, pants unbuckled, a trickle of sweat down my athletes brow..

i wiped away the tears of defeat.

grimaced at the second can.

and stepped away from the burger.

thank goodness for my offsider (who, i have no idea how, managed to polish it off!!)

but i have officially stalled in my progress of training to be a dinner box champion.

i have let the team down.

i am the sally o’brien of the family meal deal challenge team.

the debate now looms.

to retake the oportos step.

or to leave it go?

do i dare walk fourth and stare hungry jacks square between the deep fat fryers?

as with all things in the world of a drama queen..

you can rest assured it wont be just another quiet day at the office.

till i meet you at the drinks machine.

may you have fries with whatever you order.

always and ever, hugs.

l

easter show? i wanna go!

so i survived chocolate day..

and being a not really big eater of chocolate, that in itself is always a minor hurdle at this time of year…. but like all major holidays… memories of childhood follies warm the cockles of those long since frozen hearts… and despite the over chocolate indulgence (or maybe because of it??) i felt the growing yearning to retrace my childhood fantasies and go to the easter show.

as my memory painted it.. a fantastic world where anything was possible. the most beautiful of animals, washed and groomed, lined happily in rows, awaiting patting by small children, smiling faces of strangers…all glowing in the joy of the easter holiday, shopping in its highest esteem…at prices soooo low you felt that you had gone on a foreign holiday. goods you could only imagine in your wildest dreams…and the showbags… like the ultimate universe of colour, smell action…as thousands vied for the most amazing treasures known to man…

and of course… as the sun would set an amazing fuzzy glowing peach into an endless crimson sky…you would sit, huddled amongst loved ones in the crisp autumn air…watching the animals, parade like the changing of the palace guard, wow at the stunts of the dare devil precision driving team and of course, stare entirely opened mouthed as the commentators speculated “which colour would go the highest”  in the fireworks finale that lit up the evening sky into a myriad of neon…. sparkling well into the night and on into the years of memories planted in my mind..

such was the innocence and the sheer joy of the easter show…that as i lay moaning of the expanding waistline helped none by the overeating of chocolate, the urge to return to those happy days outweighed the financial strains of an empty wallet.

sun in sky, check, public holiday, check, good company, check…

the bubbles fizzing right to the top as i sat like an impatient child awaiting the train..

the joy of feeling that sun on your face as you emerge from the station and race eager to the entrance gates.

the sounds of animals, people, machines all murmuring, whirring and whizzing in action… the smells of stale food and salted popcorn…beckoning even the most iron clad stomachs, the sights and colours of a thousand people all glowing in the midday sun, heaving their loot of showbags and inane costumery…

but what was missing?

where was my spark?

my anticipation?

like an old hand i dragged myself around. the usual culprits… a little new rust, but otherwise the same..only the prices changed as they grow ever more year by year…

the patting zoo still making me smile like a giddy school girl..but suddenly, a conscience that doesnt allow me to push in to be the first to pat the goat, cuddle the sheep, kiss the cow…

the rows of shiny groomed animals not so much a mystery anymore…but like prisoners awaiting judgement at the slaughter house…their whinnies and neighs no longer yelps of excitement, but groans of contempt and despair.

the array of shopping, not a patch on that which i have tasted in the real world… and prices that even a child prodigy of saving surely couldnt afford.

when did the samples become so expensive?? no longer a sample but an cruel ploy to cyphon your already  strained wallet?

and the showbags…so empty, so lacklustre of joy and mystery… the showbag halls almost like a ghost town as people shun the rought that is paraded before them…

and as the sun set into a bland grey sky..

and my tummy churned from the ingestion of stale meat pies and mystery meat on a stick dipped in congealed sauce and all encapsulated in deep fried scunge with no nutritional value

i settled back to at least watch the evening and and grasp manicly at a dream to relive the happy memories..

but what happened to my grand parade?? no longer an equation of shiny happy animals… but a few cows being dragged around half a field…

the rodeo, while good, lost its sparkle as the crowd is too busy lost in their own worlds to engage with the cheering and banter of the long since should have been retired commentators…

and as the thrill of the precision driving team fizzled into a routine of the “same old” i at least settled back holding my breath for the fireworks magic to reignite that long last spark i sought…

instead??

the fireworks themselves, sold out to the perils of consumerism.

sold out to the capitilist world..

no longer was it a conquest for each colour to go the highest…but instead each colour, maticulously designed to bow down to the sponsorship that had been shamelessly flaunted all night…

and as the blue matched the sky in the picture of our sponsors logo, the yellow of the sun and the green of the grass… parents were re reminded to go forth and buy the prescribed product.

when did we lose our innocence??

or is it just me?? a pure heart tainted by cynicism?

or maybe it really has reached that time in my life..where i need to accept my own childhood is ceasing and it is time to kidnap someone else’s kids in order to relive any fragments of it which may remain in a confused and capitalist world.

yet regardless the answer. regardless how much more magic may dissolve as years go by… i still managed to wear my ridiculous wig…hold my head high and at least aim to be, one of those sparkling fragments of memory and colour, smiles and laughter in the new formed memories of some other child… our hope now really is on the innocence and sparks of joy of our children and if we dont eat least try to give them just an inkling of the magic of the world from which we have grown up from…what hope does tomorrow really have?

so dust off your favourite teddy bear… put on that silly hat. you may have grown up. your memories may have been sold out…but you can still be a part of that magic that just may make the smile of some other persons life and be a part of the little spark that they too may carry into their own future..

and thus the magic of easter shall live on…

easter show?

yeah, i still want to go…