The Whole Bathing Suit Thing

For the past two weeks, we've been on a beach vacation. Beach as in water. As in swimming. As in, putting on a bathing suit almost every day. I make no secret of the fact that I am fat. Very fat. In fact, comments about "beached whale" and the like would not be out of place (and appropriate, given where we are at the moment.) These past few weeks I've been doing a fair amount of people watching, both in and out of the water. I've also had various conversations with visiting friends about The Whole Bathing Suit Thing.

TWBST is all about women having, shall we say, issues with wearing a bathing suit. Issues which have many different excuses attached: Shows too much. Shows too little. Makes my thighs look big. Requires me to get a bikini wax. Shows off my fat arms. Makes my legs look short. Shows that I have a belly. Highlights my lack of boobs. Whatever the excuse is, it seems the women I know have a serious aversion to wearing bathing suits, particularly in public. The solution, it seems, is trying to cover up all the parts of your body which are your main excuse for not wearing a bathing suit in the first place.

There's the bikini top and board shorts look, the bathing suit and oversized t-shirt on top look, the board shorts and t-shirt look, the wearing everything I own and just not getting in the water idea, the bathing suit with a skirtie thing and then a sarong on top too look, the bathing suit *and* t-shirt *and* shorts look....the look-anywhere-but-here look. Ummm, yeah. Ladies, here's a heads up. When the t-shirt/board shorts/sarong/whatever gets WET, you look even WORSE than you might if you just put on a one-piece. Honestly. Girl to girl, I'm telling you, it looks WAY worse and highlights WAY more sins than your average one piece. This advice comes to you from a gal with a big ol' ass, thunder thighs, jiggly arms, some serious boobage, and low self-esteem about her body in general. I go to the beach or pool almost every day in the summer. I wear a bathing suit, and I don't give a rat's ass who can see. It's truly liberating.

When the t-shirt sticks, it sticks TO your fat rolls. The board shorts never did any woman (thin or otherwise) any favours. The sarong...ummm...yeah. Only suitable to be worn on a Pacific Island smaller than a breadbox. The whole "not going to swim, I'll just be a martyr and sit here on the beach while the rest of you frolic and have fun".... you I have no solution for, other than perhaps some therapy.

I understand that women have body issues - hell, I AM a walking, talking, breathing body issue. At the same time, there is something so glorious, so utterly wonderful, so totally...freeing about being in the water. For those few minutes, you are....gossamer-thin, floaty...weightless. Unless, of course, you're being dragged down to the bottom by the weight of your (wet, unattractive) t-shirt. Swimming, floating, walking, running - whatever you're doing, while you're in that water you're no longer a contender for Miss Thunder Thighs 2008. You are gorgeous. Beautiful. Utterly stunning. Your hair (thick, perfect) floats around your head like a crown, suitable to the water nymph you have become. There truly is no better feeling.

So, ladies, I say be gone with all that extraneous clothing. Fact is, if you're fat, no amount of EXTRA clothes is going to help. I'll let you in on a secret: people already know you're fat. If you're thin and you just have issues (whatever they may be)...then I say, get to the beach, take off all those layers of clothing (behind a towel if you must), close your eyes so you can't see the other people, and run full pelt into the water. It's a well known fact that if you can't see them, they can't see you.

Trust me. It's a simple fact of life that even skinny bitches look bad when wearing board shorts and a (free, promotional) t-shirt.

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Week Two: 205 minutes (min required: 140)

Where have the hungry three gone?

On holiday, that's where! As a family we are spending two weeks living it up in Rosebud, a small beach town about 90 minutes out of Melbourne. We've spent days and days in the ocean, eaten literally close to 6 boxes of popsicles and ice creams on-a-stick, slapped on litres of sunscreen, had a bbq dinner almost every night, and our morning routine is like this:

9:30am - Dad. Dad. DAD? DAD!!! Dad, can we watch a video?
9:31am - (DH): Mrph. Rrmmhppg. MMmpphhrffr.
9:32am - Dad? Dad, we're serious. Dad? DAD! A video, Dad?
9:33am - DH hauls self out of bed to fumble with DVD player, reminds the kids to eat something and then stumbles back to bed.

Note: Notice I have no part in above scene. This is largely because the kids have been trained not to wake me up or bother me unless the house is burning down, one of them has a flag pole stuck in their ear, or DH can't be woken up first. It works.

11am - Kids finish movie, have eaten brekkie, and I shuffle, bleary-eyed, out to the loungeroom.

11:01am - (me): So, what are we going to do today?
11:02am - (kids): Dunno, but I'm going back to bed (upon which 1,2 or all 3 shuffle away.)

Eventually we all get up, eat, and s-l-o-w-l-y get ready to go to the beach. None of us feel any great need to move very quickly. None of us care about anything other than relaxing. We've been to the movies, had 3 sets of friends come and spend the day with us, and yet we all feel as though our limbs have turned to jelly. In a word, it's fabulous.

For those who are keeping track of my resolution, here is how Week One went:

- Of a minimum 140 minutes required for the week, I completed 160 minutes.
- Only on ONE day did I exercise the minimum of 20, every other day exceeded that.
- On most days I had one or more kids joining me
- The new 3/4 length jeans I bought are already too big on me

I read in a newspaper this week that most resolutions are broken by January 14th. Clearly, whoever wrote the article hasn't met me.

...and for those with some spare time on their hands, laugh as much as I did at this site, and then go laugh some more at this one.

The Great Tassie Fish & Chip Roundup

Ahhh, the sea! There is just something about ocean towns which makes one want to run out and eat hot, crisp chips while the sea air blows and the seagulls shout "more! more!" DH and I, being avid "chiss and fipps" eaters in many an ocean town, were very excited to see not one or two but FIVE fish and chip purveryors on Constitution Dock. All of these were within about 15 feet of each other.

Since we were planning on being in Hobart for five days...and there were five such shops...well, stands to reason, doesn't it? This required a one-a-day habit, surely? To do a proper blog-worthy round up, we had to first establish The Rules. Rule One: The order had to include one serving of calamari and chips and 2 pieces of prawns. Rule Two: Regardless of what else we ordered, we could only judge on those items. Rule Three: When placing the order, DH had to verbally say, "Please cook the chips to well done. Hot, crispy, crunchy, WELL COOKED chips." So onwards we embarked, with a specific baseline established (for comparison purposes.)

Mako's was the first one we tried. We had high hopes - it was the closest (geographically) to open water. Sadly for us, Mako's was more like Flop-o's. Cons: pre-crumbed calamari from a bag, processed prawn cutlets, chips not well done *and* the damn chips were thin sort of shoe-string type (a pet hate of DH's.) Plus the tartare was one of those horrid plastic square thingies from Heinz. Pros: Tartare and wedge of lemon included, and interesting menu items like coriander mayo. Overall score: 5

Second up was Fishy Business. They won some bonus points with us! Cons: That crappy Kraft tartare sauce again, chips decidedly average. Pros: Real prawns (not processed), calamari still pre-crumbed from a bag but obviously a better supplier. Lemon and tartare supplied. Overall score: 6

It was at this point that DH and I came to a somewhat sad conclusion. Fish purveyors numbers three and four were actually selling fresh fish, not heart-attack-on-a-plate fish. DH's sunny attitude had him saying, "Ah well, at least now we have an instant short list!" I on the other hand, was irritated at the whole plan being wrecked. 5 shops, 5 days - it was perfect! *sigh* Onwards and upwards, we decided to try Number 3 (previously No. 5) which was the furthest away from open sea.

Flippers has a sense of humour - the pontoon built in the shape of a fish is pretty funny, you must admit. However, a GSOH never cooked fish, obviously. Pros: Best calamari by far - plump, tasty, crisp! Prawns were real, not processed. Pineapple fritter on the menu, which the guy offered to make up fresh for us. Cons: No lemon, no tartare provided. Worst con: Chips so disgusting, DH and I didn't finish them. Seriously, these chips were gross! (and I for one believe that at heart, all chips are good chips until proven otherwise.) Overall score: 6

At this point DH and I were feeling very dejected. NONE of these sea-faring fish and chip pontoons were good. In fact they were all really average. So we did what any self-respecting foodies would do, and we headed to the middle of the dock for the most expensive fish and chip shop around - Mure's. It's been there for 20 years, and it's not floating on a pontoon...so surely they've got to get it right?



Firstly, take a look at that menu. "From the wok" ... seriously? For a fish and chip shop? It gets better. This place also has a choose-your-own toppings oyster bar, a formal upstairs dining restaurant, a gift shop, *and* they sell fresh fish. In fact, you can PICK what fish you want from the display and they'll cook it right then and there. With all that in mind, the Cons: You can't order just one of something (like one prawn). The price is a good $2-4 dollars more expensive than the other places. No tartare provided. Pros: They LISTENED about the chips! They were crisp, well-done and seriously good. The seafood is REAL seafood. As in those were fresh calamari and fresh prawns. The real deal. (See picture at the top.) Overall score: 8

Sadly, though, DH and I were left very unsatisfied by the meal at Mure's. It's not really a fish and chip shop. It's a restaurant that serves fried stuff. While we enjoyed it, and the quality was great... it just sort of lacked character. Like the fifth tasting sense of 'umami', fish and chip shops clearly have another facet to the experience: character. There is just something so wrong about eating fried fish out of a basket. On a fancy chair. A chair which sits on a clean floor. There were even leather couches to sit on, if one so desired.

Sorry to say, dear readers, but fish and chips in Hobart leaves a lot to be desired. Maybe the problem is that we picked places in a touristy area. Maybe we should have gone further inland? I guess I never thought it would be quite so hard to cook chips properly - so thanks, dear Hobartian fry cooks, for teaching me that there is an art to your craft. Sadly, an art you need to practice just a smidge more. And please, please, GET RID of the disgusting Kraft tartare!

Ten Tasmanian Truths

10. Just because it's an island (and therefore surrounded by water teeming with fish), doesn't mean you can get a decent fish and chips to eat. (What part of COOK the chips is so hard?)

9. Someone from the City of Hobart is called a Hobartian...which rhymes with martian. I wonder how much of a coincidence that is.

8. You can get years and years of storytelling out of one stupid bridge falling down. People, it's time to get over it.

7. Nine o'clock at night is considered late night....for everyone. It's like a ghost town. It's very eerie, being the only human awake for miles and miles. God help you if you want something to eat or drink at that hour.

6. There is nowhere else in the world so green. It was worth the trip just to appreciate the natural beauty of this place.

5. By virtue of the conference being here, the Jewish population of Tasmania increased by some 1000% in one fell swoop....but Hobart is home to Australia's oldest synagogue. Go figure.

4. There are more foodie shops per square metre than any other city I've been to....and none of them carry the products I'm planning on selling. This can only be a good thing. It's also a good thing that the service is so crap, nobody noticed me openly taking photos of their products (research purposes, I swear.)

3. The Tasmanian Devil exists... and while everyone claims they are in the wild, I've only seen them on postcards.

2. For a state mired in politics relating to the timber industry, and the cruel destruction of the old growth forests by way of logging...there is a hell of a lot of timber crap for sale. Everywhere. I even saw a thin scrap of wood turned at each end being sold as...a chapati (!) rolling pin. For $18. THIS is what's wrong with the whole idea of environmentalism in Australia.

....and the number one thing I've learned about Tasmania....

It doesn't matter what city in Australia you're in....there will always be someone wearing beach thongs in a rainstorm. And I love that about this place.

Hello from Hobart, Day 3 & 4 Roundup

Those of you who doubted my ability to relax (ahem, the baker's wife) will be happy to know that I didn't blog yesterday because I was too busy (!) ....

...lazing around doing a whole lotta nuthin'. Seriously.

DH and I woke up early to take in the sights of the Salamanca Markets...and then his conference obligations and my laziness obligations sent me back to bed. I came back to the hotel room around 11am, changed back into my pyjamas and went back to bed. There I stayed until DH encouraged (read: forced) me to get up and dressed for dinner. There is just something so scrumptious about being in bed in a sloppy PJ while the air conditioner gently blows across you, while you lay in the warm and squishy bed with a new stupid chick-lit novel ($2 at the market) and your biggest problem in life is whether or not you can be bothered to get out of bed to eat a slice of Jackman McRoss cheese and chive sourdough topped with a slice of Heidi Farm Gruyere. (Hint: no, you can't be bothered.)

Geez. It's a hard life.

I will admit to doing some work this morning (ahem, I said I was relaxing. I didn't say the capricornian in me had DIED, you know.) However I followed up the morning's work with a glorious DH-n-Me afternoon. Fish and chips on Constitution Dock (numbers 3 and 4 in a series...photos and points awarded. Keep an eye out for the great Tasmanian Fish and Chips Roundup post soon!) This was followed by a vaguely brisk (read: not at all brisk) walk to the movie theatre. Saw a cute movie (Stardust), played some video games (I sorely need to work on my shot-'em-up skills, but I got to Level 3 on Dance Dance Revolution...and of course got a sore back as my reward), and then walked right back into the theatre to see another flick (Death at a Funeral.) We tried to make it a movie three-peat, but there wasn't anything on we were interested in...see? Plenty of relaxing. A walk home in the misty rain, a hot pizza cuddling with DH on the couch, a quick blog post and all is right with the world. Today was the kind of day I needed to restore my faith in my ability to relax.

Tomorrow we're planning a visit to a sky walk thingie (marketing speak for a bridge over a forest), a visit to "the world's fifth best model train" (DH's choice) and a tour of the Cadbury factory (my choice.) We might even manage some lunch...and maybe a bit of relaxing to boot.

....but I'd be lying if I wasn't also planning on making a few phone calls and checking a few emails. I guess some things never change.

Greetings from Hobart, Day 2

The only problem with this whole relaxing business is that it's kinda boring.

Yes.

Boring.

Today I spent a vast majority of the day lounging about in bed, reading the books I brought with me, dozing, and lamenting my haircut which I've now decided I hate. When that got boring I went and walked around down town Hobart for over three hours. That is a LOT of walking...but I really enjoyed it. Nobody tugging on my arm, no fear of cars careening around corners and collecting small children on the way, nobody saying, "Come on! It's time to go!", nobody even giving me a second glance as I sat down in the bookstore and browsed page by page through some gorgeous cake books. I didn't have to eat when I wasn't hungry, didn't have to see the inside of every toilet for ten blocks. I was just me. Alone with my thoughts and the new hair product (*shudder*) I bought. Actually, make that me alone with my thoughts and the new product I was forced to buy in the hopes that it might improve the hair situation.

But I digress. After covering almost every corner of this place, I meandered home to the hotel room, where I read more, showered (in order to try the whole hair product thing out, I needed a clean slate...er...scalp), lounged around and...well, was kinda bored. This is the thing about relaxing. It's not all that interesting. I actually came here armed with a whole lot of work to do as well - and I've been dutifully checking my emails and sending out cake info - but I can't muster to energy to actually DO the work which I need to do. This is so bad. I'm having a hard time learning to relax, and an equally hard time getting down to business.

Ah.

Well.

Only one thing to do then, I suppose.

*shuffles back to bed*

Greetings from Hobart, Day 1

Day One of our no-kids mini vacation away and already DH and I are "remembering" what it's like to be a foodie couple on the prowl. I suppose it's a bit like riding a bike, in that you never forget the lure of 16-hour organic sourdough artisan baked bread... hot, crispy, fresh calamari served on a pontoon.... how to buy ridiculously priced Lescure butter (for afore-mentioned bread), feta-stuffed red peppers and...best stop now before drool short circuits DH's laptop!

I'm having a hard time controlling my mouth, though... not so much from an eating standpoint (okay, that too) but from crowing (to all within earshot) about the fact that I don't have to do conference-related stuff and he does, neener neener neener! I've worked terribly, terribly hard today - from a huge stroll around the harbour with DH, the amazing snacky-lunchy at the bakery recommended by The Baker's Wife, the stacks of trashy mags I bought at the airport...and shortly I'm heading into my first hot shower with the stupidly priced shampoo I bought at the hairdresser's yesterday. Yes, I did it again. Cut my hair off (mostly) and dyed it a ridiculous colour (go fast red stripe...all over!). I won't mention how it is that could-care-less about things like (*shudder*) hair "product" me got sucked in to buying the French shampoo/conditioner combo. Must've been some stray girlie estrogen hanging around the place that made me do it.

Haven't decided what to do tomorrow...but contemplating a movie tonight, the Salamanca markets on Saturday, a Cadbury factory tour on Monday...and plenty of sleep, crusty bread and *wink**wink**nudge**nudge* in between conference shin-digs.

Anyone who has been to Hobart before, post foodie recommendations - this whole damn place is on a hill, so I need to find places which make the climb worth it! I've been taking pics as well, so expect some food reviews, pastry dissertations, and random pictures of pretty trees upon my return.

Oh, and did I mention I've booked 2 big cakes in the past 18 hours? Who says I'm not working hard?

10 Things In My World

5 things which are seriously irritating me:

1. Adult acne. Fer' cripes' sake, enough already!

2. The fact that I wrenched my back while my wiping my ass. I only wish I was kidding about that. Okay, you can stop laughing now. It fucking hurts, you know.

3. My de-lurk day failed miserably.

4. Finding packaging for my Three Sweeties gourmet line of products. All the sexy packaging is either too expensive or not air tight. *bangs head on wall* Ideas welcome.

5. The cook in the kitchen next to mine who keeps coming into my kitchen and saying, "So what did you make me for afternoon tea, hmmm?" Umm, that would be a big fat NOTHING, ya biotch. Now get out of my kitchen!


5 things which make my life worth living, other than my children, husband and chocolate:

1. The gourmet line of Three Sweeties products are seriously, seriously good. I've got nothing to put them in, but as products they are exceeding my expectations. Three words: Vanilla. Bean. Marshmallows.

2. This week DH and I are going on a mini-vacation for 5 days (which I can ill afford the time, but we planned it ages ago.) This is the longest we've been away from the trio. I'm thinking of indulging in three things: 1) sleep 2) uninterrupted sex and 3) breakfast which does not involve cereal. Repeat.

3. Tomorrow night I'm going to the parents' association meeting with the express purpose of kicking ass about a number of issues which are really irritating me. Frankly, I love a good fight. Especially one which I plan to win.

4. My DH has a cute butt. Which I'll get to admire on vacation, without a kid yelling, "Gross! Dad! I can see your BUTT! Ewwwww!"

5. DD1, who would normally have a very hard time performing, stood up in front of a theatre full of people, in full costume, with bright lights shining in her eyes and loud music playing.... and SANG. With hand motions. Something she previously could not do without needing to cover her ears and hide in a corner and sing to herself. She did it. On TWO nights. I have never been more proud of her. Sometimes it's the little things.

Choo Choo / Spew Spew: A Family "Vaca"

I've been fortunate enough to spend most of the last two weeks with my snester, her husband (my BIL), my oldest neice (HPG), my nephew (Lucy - not his real name) and my youngest niece (Gumboots). Suffice it to say we had a fabulous time, and here are but a few things which might give you a hint as to what transpired:

• Number of people to spew: 3 (me, DH, Lucy. 4 if you count DH doing it more than once)
  
• Most spectacular spew: DH, in the reception area of the caravan park where we stayed. "Hi, I'm DH, we're just checking in...*projectile hurl*"
• Number of times my snester ate a shitty tasting lunch: 3
• Number of times she complained about it: I lost count
• Bravest Little Indian: Gumboots, who survived my stripping her naked, holding her hog-tied over a patch of snow and saying, "oh, please please please can you pee now?!"
• Number of times we thought for sure we would lose fingers and toes to frostbite: Daily
• Number of times Lucy ate chicken schnitzel: Too numerous to count, but he now has feathers under his arms
  
• Number of times we said, "Shit, it's COLD!" : Too numerous to count
• Number of times I called HPG a "sullen teen" and she gave me a "I am SO NOT a sullen teen look"in a very sullen teen way: At least half a dozen times
• Most amusing comment: (from my snester), "You mean there is no TV? HOW THE HELL are we supposed to entertain SIX KIDS?"
• Most amusing cultural differences moment: The "brown out" in the toilet block of the caravan park, necessitating my sister getting a 'torch.' She was relieved to find it was a flashlight and not a tree branch lit on fire. Ooga Booga!
• My amazement at my BIL's patience for my kids: Daily
  
• Most sought-after and then forgotten about item: The freakin' cheese sticks at Myer Melbourne. We had to get them for my sis and BIL (or suffer some sort of early death) and then finally got them and my own KIDS ate them in the AIRPORT before everyone left. Ummm, can we say pointless?
• Best turn around: No, this isn't a freezing bloody cold muddy wet rainy horrible cramped small kinda dirty renovated train carriage we are sleeping in. It's an eco-adventure vacation!
• Best culinary re-naming: seaweed rice crackers into "pee pee crackers"..."because they kinda smell like it."
• Most painful culinary experience: watching Lucy and HPG trying to sift flour. Four hours and a kitchen full of flour dust later, they managed it.
  

and lastly....

• Best but Most Sad moment: All of my family standing in front of the International Departure Gate screaming at full volume, "IT SUCKS YOU LIVE IN AUSTRALIA!"

They're right. Sometimes it does suck.

The Good, The Bad, The Ugly

(My kids, plus Poppet in the front)

So, we're back from our vacation in mostly sunny but sometimes not Rosebud, which is on the Mornington Peninsula. I really wanted this summer to be a fabulous one for the trio, who in 10 days are starting school as "big kids" - while they may have many more carefree summers, this one in effect is their last as footloose and fancy free children. This early part of their childhood is ending - and while I'm thrilled and excited about the next part, I'm sad to think that my babies have grown up so much, and that I'll never get to experience this again. So we've spent the summer having adventure after adventure - bowling, museums, beach trips, running around hedge mazes, picking strawberries, going to wave pools, riding ponies - and endless array of activities which were as much fun for them as they were for us! I have learned a few things, though, and present this list for your enjoyment.

The Good: Lazy days spent on a sunny beach playing for hours on end
The Bad: Sand in all places imaginable
The Ugly: Having your kids clean out each others butt cracks with a hose in the backyard and find it hysterically funny

The Good: Cheap imitation brand Cocoa Pops for breakfast (a no-no usually)
The Bad: Eating 4 boxes worth in less than 10 days
The Ugly: Small child requiring a hospital visit to treat constipation from influx of high-sugar items she's not used to

The Good: Salty fish & chips eaten outdoors with a sea breeze
The Bad: Realizing that no two calamari rings are made of the same thing
The Ugly: Wondering what exactly might be IN a calamari ring, if it's not calamari

The Good: Picking strawberries - red, juicy, stunningly bright fat ones under a warm sun with my family
The Bad: Trying to convince my son that he needed to stop picking them as we couldn't possibly eat as many as he was picking
The Ugly: The $65 bill which came from the 6 and a bit KILOS of strawberries we picked and consequently ate

You get the idea. We've had a lovely time this summer, and I'm hoping the next 10 days will also be filled with further adventures. Interestingly, DH and I recently had a conversation about families. We determined that while we grew up a generation apart, several thousand miles apart, and with parents from very different cultural backgrounds, we were raised in a similar fashion. A fashion which I like to think he and I are now raising our kids in - one in which our family operates as a team. We want to spend time together as a group, and will specifically seek out experiences we can do together. Sure, sometimes DH and I choose to do our own thing (peace and quiet should never be underrated) - but by and large we LIKE to spend time together. We WANT to do stuff together. We've spent the last 6 weeks doing fun things and being together because we want to, not just because we have to - it's just how we like it.

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Note to my readers: I'm going to spend some time in the next few weeks thinking about how to organise this blog - it was supposed to be about food, work, and kids ... but seems to mainly be about random shit instead. I'm wondering if I need more structure. Suggestions welcome as per usual to emzeegee@hotmail.com or just posted here.