Today's Find

 I'm not sure if this is a blessing or a curse. 

My colleague introduced me to a new group of Facebook. 

I know there's a lot of argy bargy going on about Facebook at the moment, what with Meta sacking their fact checkers and moving the very liberal state of Texas. Yet even with the enshitification of the Meta products, there is still some gold in there - especially if you don't use it as a primary news source. 

Today my colleague let me strike gold. 

We were talking about our microwave toastie makers. 

These things are the absolute bomb. At $15 at Kmart, you can have a perfect toastie in around three minutes. 

They are brilliant. 

But even better. There is this Facebook group, Microwave Toastie Maker Australia, which gives you all sorts of ideas away from your normal ham, cheese and tomato toastie. Or my favourite, the baked beans and cheese toastie (which I've been told to add a bit of onion to - hmmm). 

I mean, who'd a thunk it?

• Spinach pumpkin and feta cheese
• Left over bolognese sauce with cheese
• Cold roast chicken with barbeque sauce
• You can fold up wraps in a square and toast your wraps
• Cut down your Turkish bread

Because there's a 

You know what else you can do in these magic panels - because they are magic. Two metallic plates encased in silicon. 

You can also cook:

• Fish fingers
• Crumpets
• Hot cross buns
• Pancakes
• Salmon fillets
• You name it, you can run it through this magic machine. 

Then there's the discussion about how much butter to use on the outside, or should you use mayonnaise, or how long should your toastie go in the microwave and what to do with things go awry.

Needless to say, I'm obsessed, even if I am trying to keep gluten down a minimum.

It's just so iconic. 

Today's Song:

So I wore the red dress

So, I wore the red dress. 

I didn't know what I was going to wear. It was a party. I would be among friends. But I still, it was a day to be out of my normal Melbourne blacks. It was a party. Why would I want to wear black? I wear black all the time.  

The red dress has been sitting in my wardrobe for years, but I've never worn it out. It's a red lace affair, with a skin-coloured lining. It's snug, low cut, lacy and goes to about the knees. 

And I wore it today. 

I didn't feel too booby. 

I was comfortable.

And I've been told that I should take this dress to France with me, though I have no idea to what I would wear it.

But it was nice to get dressed up and put on some make up and get out there for a bit. 

I should wear red more often. 

Today's song: 

Meditation and Manifestation

 I've sat in the same seat at meditation for near on twenty years. When anybody tries to take my seat, I actively growl at them. It's okay, we've all got our places, it only happens every few years. 

Today, as I went under into the depths of my psyche, I knew what I was in for. 

We meditate on the letters of the Hebrew alphabet. Yes, it sounds strange, but as somebody who's dabbled in Kabbalah studies, it all makes sense to the group I meditate with. 

Lamed (or Lamedh). The twelfth letter of the Hebrew alphabet. It makes the 'el' sound, as in lake or laugh or love. 

It means ox-goad. The cosmic cattle-prod. The call to arms. The "if you sit on your arse for too long the universe will come and move you on in a most drastic way," letter. 

Just what you need at the start of the year. 

For me, this means it's time to get manifesting. A time to get my resolve and get on with things. 

So here are the things I wish to manifest in 2025. 

I will do everything in my power to remain healthy, for you are nothing without your health. 

My greatest resolution is to keep up with my fitness, and to get fitter, especially on the cardio side of things. Nothing feels as good as fit. 

I resolve to work towards getting a book published. Which book that will be, I don't know, but I've been working towards this for years and it's time. 

I will remain actively and gainfully employed in roles which challenge me, working with good people on valued projects in companies which have a modicum of integrity. 

I will allow myself to shine. 

I am open to new friendships and relationships. 

And I will be spending at least three weeks in Europe in September. I can see this being a few days in England, before heading to France for a writer's retreat. I want to spend a few days after the retreat going somewhere new? Belgium? Back to Rome, where I haven't been for 25 years. Or somewhere else. Regardless, I use the passport this year. 

And that will do for the moment. This will be my year. I just need to take responsibility for it. 

Today's song: 

The Mystery Car

 As a part of this day trip to Adelaide, I needed to hire a car to get out to the winery where the party was being held. It was going to be a lot cheaper and reliable than taking an Uber.

To economise further, when booking, I went the route of going for a mystery car. VroomVroomVroom.com, the car hire comparison site, this seemed like a good deal. It was only for the day. I wasn't like I was buying the vehicle. Whatever they gave me would be fine, I told myself. 

Wrong. 

When I rocked up the car hire office at Adelaide Airport, we went through the normal pleasantries. I handed over my driver's license, my credit card, signed a few forms. All the usual things. 

Then, the big question. What were they going to give me? 

I didn't have to wait for long to find out. 

A CAMRY. 

A bloody CAMRY. 

Okay, yes, it was a hybrid Camry, and a black Camry, but you can't sexy up a Camry. Camrys are about as sexy as roadkill at the best of times.

"But I don't wear a hat, I'm not a Karen and I know how to use an indicator!" I wailed, "Do you have anything else?"

"No."

"Oh, okay. A Camry it is. "

So, I was driving around Adelaide in a black Camry today. I will say that it was very comfortable and it was lovely to drive and the 60 km round trip didn't make then petrol needle move, so I didn't have to fill it up before I dropped it back at the airport before my flight. 

There goes the last of my street cred. 

Regardless, I had a lovely time in Adelaide and I'm glad I went over, even if was made to drive that abomination of suburban opulence. 

Today's song:

The Guilt Trip

The little-black-furry-house-demon is leading me on the biggest guilt trip. 

Bastard. 

I'm heading off to Adelaide for the day tomorrow morning. It's my niece's 21st birthday and there's a family lunch at a winery in the hills. This means leaving around 8.30 in the morning, hopping on a plane, picking up a hire car, going out and having lunch, then backing up, going back to the airport and hopping on the 6 pm plane back to Melbourne. I should be home around 9 pm all going well. 

It's a long day to go to another state for lunch, but this is what we do for families. 

Regardless, the little-black-furry-house-demon appears to have gotten wind of this, And it's not like I'm packing a suitcase or getting out the cat cage. This is a day trip. All I have to do is get up, shower, dress, put on some make up, grab a handbag in which there is a book, my headphones, a powerbank, a lipstick, wallet and phone and go. 

I also have to remember to grab my copy of the Qantas magazine for a colleague. They like to hand them on to their partner. 

Anyway, the little-furry-black-house-demon has been on my tail all day, demanding treats, asking for cuddles. Generally being a pain, albeit a cute pain in the backside. 

And we know it must be very dull being at home alone all day - and if things go awry and I'm going to be a lot later, I can call Jay or my downstairs neighbour and ask if they can feel the said little-black-furry-house-demon.

But he's giving me the guilt trip, which is his job, and I will acquiesce and keep dealing out the treats, even if I am in a meeting and he's sitting baying at me knee while inserting a claw into my calf. 

And I call this beast my child.

Cats. Who'd have 'em? 

Today's song:

The Random Piece of Happiness

 Is there a better feeling than when you cut into an avocado, the one that you bought a few days ago and have left of the counter. The one that you had your doubts about when you bought it. The avocado that you really want a half of smashed up with some goat's cheese on an English muffin.

You toast the muffins. You don't want them too dark, nor to you want them too light. And yes, they're gluten free. Of course, it would be great to have some really fresh sourdough bread, but that's not how we roll at the moment. 

And you crack open the avocado and it is perfect. 

Not too hard. 

Not too soft. 

No brown stuff in the flesh. 

Just a perfect avocado, like the ones you get at the Mejico restaurant in Sydney (and now Melbourne) where they make the guacamole at the table. Love that place. 

Anyway, this morning, I cut into this avocado, and it was perfect. 

The made me happy for the rest of the day. 

Funny that. 

Today's song: 

Dipping one's toe into the abyss

Dating apps are like a bit like visits to the dentist. A necessary evil that nobody really wants to tackle, but it seems to be a good idea to experience, because you never know the outcome if it all. Thankfully, you know when your dentist says “open wide” they’re probably going to be using a large amount of numb, and after a bit of jiggery pokery, they charge you like a wounded bull and tell you to come back in six months. 

Dating apps are like taking a giant leap of faith into the great unknown. I think of them like The Fool card in the tarot pack. The is a person at the edge of a cliff, they have their life on their backs, a rose in their hand ready to give to the right person and their mates nipping at their heels wondering what the hell they are up to. The Fool can do all sorts of things. They can take a dive off the cliff. They can sit down and let their feet dangle over the edge and contemplate the world. They can chuck their bundle into the abyss and run away very fast in the other direction. 

I will confess to doing a little internet dating last year, but that was for research purposes. The last time I went on a "date", from memory, was in around 2007. A six-week relationship ensued. It was over before it began. I still feel funny going down Smith Street in Collingwood. 

Online dating is very scary, although others might disagree. It’s a minefield. I mean, which platform do you use? Bumble? Hinge? Tinder? Plenty of Fish? eHarmony? There are so many out there, how do you work out which platform is for you? 

Then there’s the setting up of your profile. How are you going to represent yourself? What photos do you put out there? And what if you're like me and hate having your photo taken? What do you do? Are you like me and find one or two photos of fun things you've done, or a photo of your cat? What if there are no really good photos of you. 

Once you get past the photo checks, then you have to get down to the business of what you're after in a relationship. You've got to state if you after one of the following: 

• A life partner
• A long-term relationship
• A short-term relationship
• A fling
• Or are you trying to define what sort of relationship you're after. 

Then there's the straight, gay, queer thing. This isn't an issue so much. I know I'm straight, but I'm open to friendship with people who identify as queer or gay. 

Then they ask you to answer a heap of questions. 

It's selling yourself. 

It's hard. 

You need a thick skin and your self-worth intact. 

As a fan of the Instagram page, Bad Dates of Melbourne, I'm fully aware of the crap that's out there. And there's the sleazes, the players, the cretins and the bores. 

And there's no place there where you can say, "Hey, I'm after meeting somebody who's a good, kind and nice person, intelligent and funny, who's not going to mess me about, likes movies and art galleries and keeping fit and laughing."  I'm not going to be picky and say I'm after somebody over 175 cms, preferably with no beard, a furry chest and maybe a little bit of hair. I can't dictate about body types. I'm no oil painting, nor do I have an ordinary physique. 

It's all a bit overwhelming. 

Today's song: