Project Kitchen

It started with a loose screw. One of the kitchen cupboard doors would come off the hinges whenever I opened it. It took a long time for me to be annoyed enough to spend a minute tightening the screw. But then I started thinking – wouldn’t it look better without the doors?


I have no experience in this sort of thing and did have my doubts but the thought was stuck in my head. Removing the doors was easy. But before I truly committed, I filled the shelves with things to see how it would look. I could always change my mind and put the doors back on. It didn’t look bad so I proceeded.



At this point the main issue was that one of the hinge screws was so worn that I had to file new grooves for the screwdriver. Much swearing was involved.


The next step was sanding. For whatever reason the previous home owner had painted the shelves. The paint itself was wrong for the shelves and could be scraped off with a fingernail or heavy pot. It was horrible and had to go. I borrowed my stepdad’s tools and proceeded to sand over many weekends. My house was filthy for weeks and I hated it.

Choosing the right paint colour was stressful. The kitchen has peach cupboards, blue glass splash back, and light walls that look vaguely greenish brown against the other colours. What colour would not make my shelves look shit? In the end I tried to match it with the splash back, which isn’t easy considering the blue glass looks different depending on the light. My choice on paint is not a perfect match (though you can’t tell in the photo) but I am amazed at how close I got.


All in all I’m very pleased with the result. It makes the kitchen look more open and I am now better utilising the space. Before, those cupboards mainly contained junk and now they are displaying things that I actually use. I also moved the microwave, which frees up more bench space.

food · Uncategorized

So many cakes

Yesterday my mum and I went to a cake expo. I’d never been to one before. Wow, there were so many amazing cakes. It makes me want to quit my job and spend all day baking, ignoring the issue that I would run out of money pretty quickly.

There was a stall that allowed people to decorate a cupcake for free, using their products. It was really fun. I’ve always focused more on baking and ignoring decorating but this combined with watching a piping demonstration has sparked my desire to pipe icing onto everything I bake XD


My mum didn’t like her piping so she artfully hid it XD Now that I think about it, cupcake decorating parties are a great idea.


The cakes in the competition looked amazing. I’d love to see the process that the competitors went through to make them, from concept to execution.


The art of selling yourself

I think after last week, I can safely conclude that I do not like job-hunting. It is very depressing how few suitable jobs there are. By the end of the day, I feel like I’ve wasted the day and feel anxious.
But all is not lost for now I have a system. Mornings are devoted to trawling for jobs and writing applications, lunch is for eating and sketching (while watching Dr. Phil…because I tend to get addicted to junk…), afternoons are for arting on the computer, and evenings are for cooking, cleaning and gaming. Maybe I’ll deviate on the weekends but the important thing is that my weekdays are now structured.

I feel like I have to learn how to write all over again. The style of a cover letter is alien to me. My mum is helping me with the jargen and buzz words while my supervisor has helped me with the format and addressing selection criteria. Urg, selling myself is hard.
I know I’m awesome and I know I’ll do a good job. But actually explaining to people how I’m awesome? It feels so…fake…
I hate the thought of being judged by others, especially strangers. I even had panics because I was so worried that people would think my final talk was too short or my thesis is too small. My friend can’t even tell me how long her thesis chapters are without me getting upset.

I have discovered that I do not like the word “demonstrate”. How does one demonstrate their organisational skills in writing?


My Saturday Adventure

This morning started out as such a beautiful day. I cycled down the bike track and relaxed at home. Even in the afternoon when I was walking to my tram stop, the sun was intense on my back and I was regretting not reapplying my sunscreen.

When I got off my tram half an hour later, things were starting to look grey. I walked to Southern Cross Station, purchased a ticket and waited for my train that would take me to my mum’s place. Let me just say, I hate Southern Cross Station. First off, when the Commonwealth Games was in Melbourne some fools thought it would be a great idea to change the station name from Spencer Street to Southern Cross. Seriously, why? Spencer Street makes sense because it’s on Spencer Street. But Southern Cross…you can see it everywhere under the Southern Hemisphere. Why do aussies love to lay claim to it?
Then there is the redesign. Sure the roof is contemporary and interesting…but it’s ugly. And it traps all the train fumes so it is quite horrid to wait around on platforms.

As I was waiting for my train, we were suddenly hit by the deafening sound of hail. Hail is a rare occurrence in Victoria and is usually no greater than the size of a pea. But this hail was about three times the size. The hail lasted for quite a while before being replaced by heavy rain. Visibility outside was very poor.
Now, look at the photo. See those bright clear strips of roof that go down to meet the pillar. Yeah…design fail. You could see the hail collecting in those stupid dimples, along with massive waterfalls rushing down the pillar. The platforms were flooded with water and ice. I wish I had brought my camera with me.
It wasn’t long after before the evacuation alarms started to sound. Where were we to go? It was still pouring outside so we all huddled together in an open area of the station. Of course, the PA system wasn’t working so we had no clue what was going on. After part of the roof burst out onto some poor unsuspecting people, security rushed around telling us not to stand under the clear strips (the evacuation alarm was sounded again). About five minutes later they closed the station entirely, forcing us out into the storm.

I walked back to my tram stop with umbrella in hand. Of course, umbrellas are no help when the roads have turned to rivers. The storm was so intense that it had knocked the leaves out of the trees. The paths were covered in leaves and ice and I’m surprised that I only slipped once. At the tram stop the TV screen informed me that a tram would arrive in five minutes. Oh good, I was worried that they wouldn’t be working…and then when the five minutes had passed it was replaced by a “-“. I’m sorry but what is the point of installing those TV screens if they run on automatic and don’t provide useful information like “tram has broken down” or “you’re fucked”? It’s not like they’re lacking room on those stupid screens.

There were so many buildings screeching evacuation alarms. Including “Melbourne Assessment Prison”. I didn’t know what that building was but I certainly rushed to get as far away from it as possible. Pharmacy staff mopped water onto me as I walked past. Part of a path was so deep in water that I was detoured to the tram lanes. One 7-eleven was filled with blocks of ice that had clearly damaged the place.

By that stage I was really panicking. I’m sure I wasn’t alone – there were plenty of people dashing about and leaf-covered cars all over the place beeping each other. I walked another two blocks to my uni tram line, thinking I could hide out there until my line was operating again. No such luck, no trams down there either. I walked back to my tram stop and waited there for a little longer. And can I just say: why do all these tram stops lack shelter?
The rain had eased up so I decided to try my luck at Southern Cross Station again. If the train station was closed then surely buses would have been organized and if I couldn’t get home then I could at least get to my mum’s place. Nope, station still closed and bus shelter was flooding. Wonderful.

Once I had realised I was stranded in the city (note, all taxis were occupied by other stranded people), it was an hour after I had arrived at the station and about the time that my train was originally scheduled to arrive at my destination. There was only one option left and that was call my only friend close by who had a car. Thankfully she was at home and able to come get me but even then, it took a while. The traffic was insane and I had to walk several blocks to meet her.
I finally got home at 5:15pm – two hours after Southern Cross Station was closed. I’m really regretting not catching the earlier train…

EDIT: Photos already online
The first one is the failure that is Southern Cross Station, though not nearly as scary as being there. The other photos make me feel grateful that I only had to wade through ankle-deep water. It appears there was golf-ball sized hail but I must have missed it. Lucky me.



A short while ago my housemate gave her notice to vacate. And now she’s gone! She actually did some cleaning too (though still left the vacuuming).
To the very end, we didn’t speak. True, I did have my headphones in but I still expected some sort of something. But no, she left her keys on the table and was gone around midday on Saturday. I sure had fun moving my stuff around 🙂

Um…yeah, that’s all I really had to say…


I’ve had it with this crap

I am so fucking tired.
I can’t stand my housemate’s snoring. It’s not even the usual snoring that a lot of people have. And it’s penetrating. You can hear it all throughout the house. Last week was bad, not one night of (relatively) good sleep. I was so tired that I was crying all over the place for stupid reasons (it’s really embarrassing crying on public transport). I ended up skipping uni on the Friday and going straight to my parent’s place. It was such a good move. But I can’t do it every weekend.
This week started out alright but then it all went to shit. On Thursday my housemate got home at 2am. That was fine, good for her for having a life. But she turned on her aircon. What. The. Fuck. At the very beginning I told her where I stood on aircons (ie. I can’t sleep witht he noise) and she was all nice and reasonable, saying that she was going to buy a fan and use that. A few months later on a non-hot day she got home and turned the aircon on. It was so loud, I couldn’t sleep. So I knocked on her door, told her I couldn’t sleep, what happened to the fan and it’s not even hot. Sure enough, she got the fan and all was good.
Now, on a mildly warm night, she decides that she needs to have the aircon on at 20 degrees C. 20…are you fucking kidding me?! I’m sorry but there’s just no justification for that temperature.
And then, to make my misery complete, she starts snoring away. I wanted to cry. After 1 1/2 hours of this hell, I got the idea to cut the power. The power box is downstairs so I walked down and played with the switches until I found the right one. The good thing is that there is a switch dedicated solely to the aircon so I’ve left it off. There won’t be any more heatwaves this season, we don’t need it.

This morning she came to my room, asking me to have a look at the aircon. So I played around with it and then said oh well, at least we don’t need it now. And I asked her about the 20C on the remote and she said that she had just been playing around with it. Lying fucker (<–I realise I’m a hypocrite by saying that).
Funny how the only time she talks to me is if she wants something. She’s walked right past me to dump my mail on the table without even a word, she’s hurried out of the house without a word about what happened to my basil plant (did it fall before she got home, or did it fall while she was downstairs? I have no idea) and yesterday she walked right past me on the street without the slightest acknowledgment. I’m not sure if this non-talking is a recent development or it’s always been there but because of the different timetables and her always being shut up in her room, I never noticed.
And now she’s hidden up in her room again. I should have asked her to pay her share of our 3-week-old bill or to clean the bathroom or something. I think she’s one “yes person”. She’ll agree with your opinion (back when she moved in and decided that it would be a good idea to talk to me)and say that she’ll do things and then she just contradict herself or completely ignore you and do her own thing.

I don’t get it at all. The past two housemates have been nightmares, in their own special ways. Is it common to have this much housemate trouble? Or is it really me that’s the problem? I know that I’m the problem with the sleeping issues (though it would be nice if she didn’t slam the doors on her nightly bathroom trips). But as for the rest of the problems…is it me?
At least I lasted longer with this one before the misery started to set in. That shows some sort of improvement…I think? But it’s going to be several months of hell. And after that, that’s it. No more housemates. I’ll pay full rent. I can’t go through this again.

Fuck her.