Greetings readers,

I realised I haven’t blogged in almost a year.

I guess I decided to blog again because I’ve found a new need to express my feelings.

For the past year, I’ve kind of avoided introspection. I needed to keep my mind numb so that I could accept and maintain my monotonous, utterly boring, life. I guess you could say I was just going through the motions… wake up, go to work at 9, get off at 6, eat, sleep, repeat.

I’ve started uni again this year, studying law – and it’s kind of forced me to think about who I am, what kind of person I want to be, what kind of people I want in my life etc.

So here’s to a year of rants as I go through the whole young adult, confused uni freshie, angst thing again.

xoxo Ally

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Rotten to the core

Have you ever eaten an apple that looked perfectly fine on the outside, but to your disgust, was rotten on the inside? You couldn’t have known though, right? Even the apple’s flesh tasted fine – In fact in addition to the red and shiny exterior, the interior was deliciously juicy! In fact, only when you got to the core the apple was rotted and black.

Unfortunately our lives are filled with so many people like these rotten apples. They are so good at making themselves look beautiful on the outside – waxed and buffed to trick you in to biting in to them. They charm you with their perfectly crafted smiles, and know exactly what to say to get you to believe that they are on your side. They continue to be nice to you until you become disposable. Then they will stop making the effort and stick a knife in your back the moment you turn around.

That is just how some people are. They are incapable of being unselfish, and have no regard for others.

If you’ve ever done first year psychology at uni, I’m sure you’ll be familiar with Piaget’s theory of the stages of development. Up until the age of roughly about seven, we are at a “pre-operational” stage. One characteristic of this stage is having an egocentric view of the world. Having an egocentric perspective means you are only able to consider things from your own point of view and you imagine that everyone shares this view, because it is the only one possible. Some people are just stuck at this stage- perhaps because their parents enabled them to avoid decentering.

And that is part of what makes these people rotten at the core.

So how can you avoid said people?

Well unfortunately my friends, there is no way of getting rid of these people from our lives. They are omnipresent and lurk in every corner of your uni life, your work place, and even in your place of worship.

The best, and only, way is to approach people with caution. Don’t bite in to the apple until you’ve cut it in half to check the core.

There’s a difference between being polite, and being open and trusting to someone.

You can smile and exchange pleasantries with whomever you want, but when it comes to trusting someone, don’t base the trust on wide smiles, gleaming teeth, and a great sense of humour.

Buyers beware: Withhold all trust until you’ve spent a good amount of time getting to know someone based on one on one time with them. Because it is outside of large groups these people show their true colours.

Cho Cho San

After receiving countless emails and recommendations for the brand-spanking new Potts Point “gem” Cho Cho San, I made the decision to make a booking for the 27th of July (A and I’s 26 month celebration).

For some reason, I got the impression that they had an awesome selection of reasonably priced sides. And since A and I are saving for our trip to Japan at the end of the year, I figured we’d just order tasty, affordable sides to fill us up.

When we arrived, I was immediately taken back to art class in seventh grade, where we were all seated along a single, long, rectangular table so we could splash out Van Gogh replicas in unison.

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We stood around awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Here’s the first thing Cho Cho San lacks – a reception desk. I think any place taking bookings should have one of these.

I kind of wandered along the table awkwardly trying to look for the wait staff. It was kind of hard to tell because everyone just looked like hipsters. Finally, one of the hipsters approached A and I. I told him we had a booking, and he said, “Oh! Yes! You requested a window seat?”.

As my gaze drifted over to the window, I hesitantly smiled and confirmed his statement.

Lets put it this way. A window seat in Potts Point ain’t much of a prize.

As soon as our buttocks touched the backless wooden stools, we were offered either still or sparkling water. We mindlessly replied still water.

BIG MISTAKE. Rule number one guys. When a restaurant offers you still or sparkling water, just tell them you want table water. Spoiler alert. At the end of the night, we got a nice surprise on our bill. $4 EACH for bleeping “still” water. I wonder how much I’d get if I sat some tap water in a tank for a while and sold it back to them.

So back to the beginning of the story for our first nasty surprise. Those delicious crab buns I saw on the email recommendations were $12 each. EACH. I thought, there must be gold flecks in them or something. So we ordered one crab bun and one fried pork bun ($8) to enable us to each have a morsel of this gold flecked deliciousness.

The buns took a solid half hour to arrive. These guys were lucky we’d just come from the Aroma Festival, so the caffeine was still slightly suppressing our hunger.

When they finally arrived, I was sorely disappointed. There were no gold flecks in either of the buns. They tasted good, but for $12… well… There better be gold flecks in my poop.

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Because we were so disappointed by the lack of appealing choices in the sides menu, we had no choice but to go for the over priced mains. We ordered the $26 lamb cutlets, and the $30 wagyu beef.

Lets be blunt. I could’ve cooked a better lamb cutlet. Here’s how: I would’ve used less oil, and perhaps not be so heavy handed with the “charcoaling”. After I held the lamb cutlet to peel off the flesh with my teeth, cave man style, my fingers were left black.

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I can’t lie, the Wagyu beef was pretty damn good – it was cooked perfectly to medium rare. But the serving was small enough for me to have three plates myself (maybe if I randomly s*** out $90). And I didn’t understand the dips they gave us. They provided us with a pea drop of hot english mustard, a pea drop of wasabi, and a little sprinkle of the chilli powder you usually get at Japanese restaurants. The sauce that came drizzled over the Wagyu was already beautiful. Why would you dip it in some bottled, overpowering, english mustard?

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So here’s a summary of our night. For $88 we got:

  • A stomach still growling with hunger.
  • Cancer on a t-bone.
  • Disappointment- by the absence of gold in our buns (the actual buns and the other kind of buns 😉 )
  • Empathy for Italians who go to Criniti’s.

I think Cho Cho San translates to: stuff your asian mum can cook, plated in children’s portions, priced at 10000% of what it costs to make.

So would I recommend this place to you?

Yes- If you were a hipster, because then you deserve to be ripped off.

The Introvert Life

I’m not really good at getting close to people. It makes me incredibly uncomfortable.

I think the reason why I switched coffee stores in the first place was because they were getting way too familiar… The workers were coming to the dental clinic I work at… the boss (who also works there taking orders), knew my name… the barista made my coffee before I even ordered it at the counter…

Now this new place also knows my order as soon as I walk through the door. She’s written “SKL” (Large skim latte) on the coffee lid before I open my mouth. I’ve got a $20 note in my hand, so she asks “and the Portuguese chicken wrap too?”.

These encounters make me borderline uncomfortable… But still bearable. But lately I’ve been saving my coffee for lunchtimes. And at lunchtime, the cafe isn’t as busy. So what does the barista do? She starts a conversation with me. We have a conversation about my contacts, laser eye surgery, and meanwhile I’m getting increasingly uncomfortable.

I’m not ranting about all this because I think there’s anything wrong with me.

No, not at all.

I’m just an introvert. I like keeping to myself. I don’t like small talk.

I don’t like being asked about how my day is going because I really don’t believe the barista, or the shop assistant, or the bank teller, gives a damn. They smile, make conversation, and act like they care, because it’s all part of their “excellent customer service”. I would know – I do it at work.

When I’m not working, I just want everyone to shut the damn up.

I want everyone to mind their own business, because I’m too busy minding my own damn business. So is it too much to ask for, to be able to just get my coffee, and get out?

If I think we’re meant to be friends, then I will converse with you about all the wonderful things we share an interest in.

For the mean time, just leave. Me. Alone.

xoxo

Ally

Pretty Little Liars

Is anyone guilty of watching Pretty Little Liars?

If you were next to me, you’d be able to see me sullenly raise my hand and hang my head in shame.

I am guilty of avidly following PLL. If you’re guilty like me, you’ll know why I’m so embarrassed to admit that I watch the show.

For those of you who haven’t seen the show, please don’t start. You’ll be hooked on, and will forever have to live in a pile of your own filth and shame.

Yes, I love the characters on the show. Yes, they are nice to look at. Yes, the story line is somewhat interesting.

BUT

  1. Everything that comes out of their mouths is a cliche!

    Sometimes I cringe at how cheesy their lines are. I sit there wondering if the actor/actress realises how cheesy they sound. I wonder if they cringe like me when they watch playbacks of the episodes. I wonder if they’ve ever complained to the writers and told them not to write such cheesy lines (I feel like a pizza now).

  2. Shit just drags on because:

    When one of the girls makes a major discovery, they call each other up to say “hey I have something important to tell you, meet at blah blah”.

    And then surprise, surprise. They are knocked unconscious or get run over by a car or something, and it takes a whole other season for everybody else to find out about the big revelation. Basically the plot is often at a standstill. Why couldn’t they just talk over the phone? No pick up? It’s called voicemail!

  3. All the men in town are creepers.

    Most people forget that these girls are literally SIX-TEEN in most of the first and second season. Firstly, a fresh out of college teacher gets together with Aria. Secondly, a not-at-all-newly-graduated doctor has an interest in Spencer… and then Hannah! One of the detectives, who would be at least in his late 20’s, has a thing for Hannah. And oh, Spencer’s older sister’s boyfriend, who is also in his mid to late twenties, had a fling with her. Is it just me or is this town just full of creepers? Creepers who like to cradle-snatch.
  4. They are in HIGH. SCHOOL. DAMMIT.

    Like I said, with the story line and the crap they get up to, it’s so easy to forget that they’re in high school. But once you remember, nothing about the show makes sense. WHO the hell is letting them go out at odd times in the middle of the night? Who is letting these girls drive 500 km on a school night, to another town, to do god knows what?  In high school, either I was home before the sun was down or I’d get a massive telling off.
    AND WHY ARE THEY ALWAYS DRINKING HUGE CUPS OF COFFEE?

  5. They just make the stupidest decisions sometimes. 
    No explanation needed.


Anyways…

Going to go catch up on an episode of PLL now.

 

xoxo

Ally

 

Peak hour traffic.

As I was driving in peak hour traffic today, I realised that life is kind of like driving in peak hour traffic.

When an opportunity comes by it’s kind of like seeing a gap, wide enough, for you to cut in to the fast lane. Hesitate -and you’ll miss it.

Suddenly, you’re stuck in the slow lane. You feel like you’re in a rut because you’re not moving anywhere. Meanwhile, the cars in the other lanes speed past you while you sit in a pool of regret at not having switched lanes.

But like being stuck traffic, it’s not the end of the world. Because at the end of the day, you’ll still get to where you wanted to go. The only difference is, you took longer to get there because you were taking the slow lane.

Because the cosmos/god/whateverdeityyouchoosetobelievein works in mysterious ways, you sometimes even end up getting there faster than the dudes in the other lane- because for some reason their lane slowed down.

So hey, if you missed an amazing opportunity, don’t sweat it. Not only will you get there in the end, but you’ll always have other opportunities, and missing the first one might even turn out to be the best thing that’s happened for you.

 

Are you a passive aggressivist?

There is nothing more counter productive than being passive-aggressive.

The passive-aggressivist is one who will not directly take out their anger on you, nor will they tell you they are angry at you. They will instead half give you the silent treatment- half give you blunt remarks, all the while masking their contempt with a thin veil of civility.

Their aim is to be “polite”, whilst still letting you know they aren’t happy with you.

They are like expanding gas in a balloon, waiting to pop. But the excruciating thing for these people is that they resemble an exponential graph, forever approaching infinity. They are forever expanding, getting uncomfortably stretched, but can never release the pressure.

Note the faint scent of sarcasm.

I think it’s obvious by now why passive-aggressiveness is counter productive.

Doesn’t it just make sense, now, to let the anger go?

Just get it over and done with. Go. Shout at the person you’re angry at – if you must. Let them know what’s bothering you.

Just untie that balloon and let the damn air out so you can remain comfortably flaccid.

At the end of the day there are only two outcomes:

  1. The person finally knows what’s bothering you, and they can change. Chances are they had no idea they even pissed you off and they will care enough to make a compromise for you. Everything is all puppies and rainbows from here on out (until the next time you’re pissed off).

2. The person thinks you’re overreacting, in which case at least you have your differences out in the open. And maybe it’s better the two of you have minimal contact with each other.

Either way, there’s no point bottling up your anger because the only person you’re harming is yourself. And being passive aggressive just makes everyone think you’re being a petty, snarky, female dog.

For those of you who only read the first sentence and skipped to the last: Let it go, let it go, can’t hold it back anymore. Let it go, let it go, turn away and slam the door (after telling them why you’re angry).

 

And that’s my two cents.

xoxo

Ally

Confucius says…

Not that I’m wise or anything, but if I had to give you one piece of advice before I died, it would be this:

Don’t fool yourself in to thinking it’s you and anyone else against the world.

People are assholes by nature because like any other living thing, we have a drive to survive. So remember, things might be all sunflowers and daisies when they have nothing to lose, but the moment their ass is on the line, you see their true colours.

So instead of being knocked over when you realise it’s really just you against the world, prepare yourself for it now.

xoxo

Ally

The grass is always greener on the other side.

One day I’ll go to New York and get lost in all it’s beauty and chaos. I’ll live in a tiny studio apartment in Manhattan, given my upper-middle-tier income, and I’ll walk my tiny chihuahua through Central Park as the sun lowers over the West Side. When the winter comes, I’ll welcome Thanksgiving, my first White Christmas, and the coveted “New Years in Times Square”.

I’ll be another nameless face, squeezing through the crowded streets of Midtown Manhattan to my nine to howeverlongovertimeruns job. That is until the barista at the cafe I’ll frequent everyday knows my name- and my order. I’ll watch the pounds pack on as I make Katz’s Deli my second home. I’ll sit in the exact spot Billy Crystal and Meg Ryan sat in When Harry Met Sally, day dreaming about “the-one” who will sit opposite me.

I’ll watch a broadway show every week! Ticket for one please. I’ll frequent the top of the Empire state building! Ticket for one please.

I’ll wander Fifth-Avenue and be entranced by its prestige, before making several astronomically priced purchases. I’ll even nibble at a pastry outside the Tiffany’s store before heading home. Then I’ll sit in my apartment surrounded by the emptiness of commercialism, listening to the honk of traffic, the blaring of sirens, and the silence of my life, day-dreaming about the city of Paris, in which I’ll one day live.