Bon Jovi to the EXTREME MAX!!!!!

So this one time, in chemistry class, when I was 16, I was sitting listening to Dr. Phil (I kid you not) talking about reaching an equilibrium in exchange reactions. He was explaining it very well using an everyday example: In our local shopping mall my friend and I were wreaking havoc – I was busy running up the down escalator while she was running down the up escalator and we were constantly high-fiving in the middle to the chagrin of our fellow moving stairs trekkers. And that is how exchange reactions work. I personally don't understand why people think chemistry is that hard. Pfffffffft.

Onto a more engaging note, my other friend, who was too sensible to run the wrong way on an escalator, was telling me about her weekend and how she’d met the hottest guy, like, EVER, and his name was Jon Bon (it wasn’t really, it was something else that sounded like a band name too) to which I cleverly replied: “Ha! Like Bon Jovi?? Hahahahhaaha!” Apparently, I was not the first person to ever think of that joke and I was warned that should fortune smile on me and I ever be so lucky as to meet this Adonis of a man, I was not to mention the similarity of his name to a certain popular music group from the 90s.. ish.. (I’m not an expert on music; it could be from any time! Except I don’t think the 60s or 70s because they don’t play him on Solid Gold) So I promised not to. And whenever I can, and I remember, I try to keep my promises.

So, several years (two to be exact) passed and the weekend was drawing near. The majority of my friends were away for some or other reason, so three of us decided to have an EXTREME to the MAX weekend!!!!! To show everyone we could too have fun without them. We started off our EXTREME to the MAX weekend!!!!! by going to the movies to watch “The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants”. It was a touching film that played our heart strings like harp... strings. It was EXTREME in the way it dealt with various body issues and the concerns of blossoming young women through a magical pair of pants. And it was believable to the MAX because I and my other totally differently shaped friends wear each other’s tight fitting jeans ALL the time (except only on excavation for me, I don’t wear pants otherwise) (except for pyjama pants). Also the little girl wet herself when she fainted. I didn’t know this was possible, I mean it makes sense, but dear God let me never faint and wet myself in a public place.

We then went to the local bottle store and stocked up on two bottles of the finest vodka money totalling $20 can buy and EXTREME drank to the MAX, interspersed with cups of Turkish apple tea, while watching the very first High School Musical followed by Dirty Dancing 2: Havana Nights. After all that EXTREME television and being apple tea-ed to the MAX, we moseyed down rape alley to go to a party. When we got to the party there was not a drop of alcohol to be found, which was fortunate because we were already EXTREMEly sozzled. Then out of the corner of my eye I saw a group of youths sitting on the couch so I elegantly and confidently tripped and wobbled over to introduce myself. A certain dark featured and haired young man smiled at me in a heart-melting way while shaking my hand and introduced himself: “Hi, I’m Jon Bon”. Immediately I stopped, looked at him, cogs were whirring in my brain and things slowly ticking over. Time stopped and there was a kind of glow around him as slowly my thoughts processed...

“You’re not that hot” I replied and stumbled off.

I then somehow found alcohol, drank lots more and ended up with a short trip to hospital, but that is another story. To the MAX EXTREME!!!!!

Also, since seeing him sober, on my part, and topless on his, he is that hot.

Nerdy Cake!

Today was my friend Liz's birthday and I made her this cake. It's chocolate, with cream cheese icing. She hasn't eaten any yet. She has terrible terrible food poisoning.

To help out with spotting who these nerdy characters are: Vicky Pollard

Jiggly Puff and Bubbles

Adipose

Carol's computer, the snitch and a dalek


And just because these two were my favourite.







All in all a day well spent I think. There were plans for more nerdy things to go on top but then I got called out to map out testpits and stuff at my friend Kirsty's site near the airport. There's nothing at the site but it was fun to dig up in any case. Nothing like an excavation in the middle of winter.

"The Pink Panther Incident"

I’m still not entirely sure what it is that I’m meant to be blogging about here. I haven’t made any handicrafts like I intended. I’ve done some baking but for the most part I’ve been far too lazy to post on that because I’d have to take photos and put up the recipes and, ooohh puppies!! (short attention span). So today I’ve decided to tell a story about a stupid thing I did this one time with illustrations using paint, at which I’m amazingly skilled.

Now there are many things that I’ve done that are stupid but this particular incident is called “The Pink Panther Incident”(like the title! I love it when they do that in movies). It all started when I was a bonny young lass romping through the wilds of my garden in South Africa when my mum’s good friend Mary, who I don’t really remember but I know she exists, gave to me a then life sized (as in my sized) knitted pink panther. I thought this thing was amazing. I wasn’t allowed to play with it in case I got it dirty but I would sleep with it at night and it protected me from ghosts and who knows what else.

Fast forward a few years and I was a “rebellious” youth of 16. I wanted to go to some party or dance or something being held by a boys’ school at a tennis club, but not surprisingly my parents didn’t want me to go. Or I didn’t ask them, I forget. So to “stick it to the man” and prove just how independent, unruly and hard-hitting a teen I was I developed a plan by which I would sneak out to the party/dance thing when my parents had gone to bed and they’d never know. Just in case they checked on me in the night I would hide my pink panther under the covers and they’d be totally and completely fooled by my cunning.

So the night came, I put the panther under the covers and went to climb out of the only non-incredibly-loud-and-squeaky window in the music room. I forgot to mention it was Hawaiian themed, this party or dance thing, so I was wearing a sarong and several leis, though as it was winter maybe, well in Dunedin at least, I was also wearing tights underneath. With jandals/plaakies/flip flops/thongs for footwear (I pulled the tights out from my feet so I could smush them in between the toes of my sandals). None of this made me particularly agile.

Unfortunately I’d forgotten that just outside the window was the washing line which allowed the window to open only *this* much. For those of you who can’t see me I’m indicating my hand span.

So, in all my restricting gears, I had to manoeuvre out the tiny space trying hard to not get my head stuck and freezing every time I thought I heard something or someone. Eventually though, apart from losing a few hairs, flowers and bits of my tights I was free of the window. I was elated! I was so bad-ass! Haha parents! Try to stop me now from going to party/dance things which I may or may not have asked permission to go to!! This’ll show you!

So I ran down to the path to the car of my accomplices and their mum, who thought the whole thing hilarious (I imagine she realised how stupid it was, ah the wisdom of age) and we rushed off to the most awesome dance/party thing to ever be had!! At a tennis court.

We got there and talked to no one we didn’t already know. Which meant we didn’t talk to, party or dance with any of the strapping young lads we’d come to meet. Instead we tittered away embarrassedly while they loomed on the fringes of the dancing girls. My friends were having a blast! I, however, was riddled with guilt.

What if my poor unsuspecting parents came in to find me gone? We’re South African for heavens’ sake! My dad used to ring the police if I was more than ten minutes late from school! If they found me gone after midnight with no trace, except for a pink panther, they’d assume the worst! I could see them in my mind’s eye. My mum would be bawling her eyes out, my dad would be on the phone to the police, my brother would groggily be trying to understand the commotion and the cats would probably be asleep, but concerned maybe. They’d be devastated! I couldn’t believe what an absolutely horrible daughter I was. What kind of person does that to people who love you and are only doing their best to look out for you? So I convinced my friends to ring their mum to take us home early.

I rushed up our pathway and as quietly as possible tried to squeeze back through the tiny gap of a window, sustaining a few cuts and bruises on the way and snuck quickly back to my bed, only to find the pink panther exactly where I’d left it, the cat asleep on my bed (as I suspected) and everyone else well and truly in the land of nod. No one had even noticed I was gone! My most rebellious act ever and not one of my family even knew it happened. And all that guilt, for nothing. So I climbed into bed after evicting the pink panther and removing my fancy dress. A true rebel without a cause.

Harry Potter Butterbeer Cupcakes

As everyone should know, a couple of days ago the final instalment of the Harry Potter movie franchise was released to the public. This is the sad end to an era which I at least have been part of for the last ten years. Of course, I’m a devoted nerd and so prefer the books, but am still an avid lover of the movies. What do I do now with all my nerdy enthusiasm? Before I deal with this sad sad fact of my existence, however, there was the midnight screening that I dragged several of my friends to. I dressed as the golden snitch.

In honour of the midnight screening I wanted to make some Harry Potter themed cupcakes. I stumbled across this recipe and adapted it to New Zealand conditions. (I was going to make cute wee toppers and stuff but I was excavating all day and just got plain lazy..)

Baking soundtrack: Thao with the Get Down Stay Down - Know Better Learn Faster and We Brave Bee Stings and All.

For the cupcakes:

• 2 cups flour
• 1.5 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 cup (I used about 75 grams) butter, softened
• 1/2 cup granulated sugar
• 1/2 cup brown sugar, packed
• 3 eggs
• 1.5 teaspoon vanilla
• 1/2 cup buttermilk
• 1/2 cup ice cream soda

For the ganache:

• About 3/4 pack (315grams?) white chocolate melting chips
• 1/2 a packet butterscotch pudding mix
  
• 1 cup cream

For the buttercream frosting:

• 50 grams unsalted butter, softened
• 1/3 cup butterscotch ganache
• 1 teaspoon vanilla
• pinch salt
• 2.5 - 3 cups icing sugar
• Splash of milk or cream (as needed)

For the cupcakes:

• Preheat the oven to 180 degrees celsius, and line the cupcake tins with liners or grease them well.
• Combine the flour, baking soda and salt, then set aside.
• In a large bowl, cream the butter. Add the sugars and beat until well-combined. Beat in the eggs one at a time, mixing well each time. Then beat in the vanilla essence.
• Alternate adding buttermilk, cream soda and dry ingredients in batch until well incorporated.
• Spoon mixture into tin, or cupcake liners till 3/4 fill and bake for 15 minutes or until done.
  

For the butterscotch filling:

• Heat white chocolate chips and cream in microwave on high for 2 minutes. Then use double boiler method and mix until chocolate is melted completely.
  
• Pour in 1/2 sachet of butterscotch pudding mix and whisk until smooth.
  
• Cool to room temperature.
• Fill a squeeze bottle or piping bag with ganache and insert into the center of each cupcake, squeezing until the filling begins to overflow.

For the buttercream frosting:

• Cream butter in a large bowl until fluffy.
• Add in ganache, vanilla and salt. Mix until well combined.
• Beat in powdered sugar one cup at a time until reaching desired consistency.
• Add milk or cream by the tablespoon, as needed
• Frost cupcakes and top with a drizzle of butterscotch ganache.

Of course, as well as the cupcakes, we also had butterbeer, sherbet lemons, every-flavour jelly beans and chocolate frogs.

Now I've recovered from sleep deprivation I don't know what I'll do for my nerdy fix from now on, though this looks promising... In the meantime I still have a Song of Ice and Fire and my new favourite website, My Mom watches Game of Thrones. Pure Gold.

And also, Neville Longbottom got HOT! How did I miss this in the last movie?

Uh-oh

NOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooo! My Stumbleupon button has stopped working! It’s a catastrophe!

Sigh. Guess I’ll do some real work. Or... *Picks up Game of Thrones by George R. R. Martin, furtively glancing from left to right, no.. Yes! No! Too late, sleepless hibernating from the world begins now*

Empowerment

I was talking (via text) to my friend the other day about a date she’d recently been on with a dashing young man. After extracting the most important information from her, like what he looked like and what he was like and what his accent was like (foreign yum,) we moved onto some things she learned from him and thought I should know. For example, he told her that “we women” should have all the control in relationships. We apparently hold all of the power in our high heels and handbags. I might have found this easier to believe if at that exact moment I hadn’t been sprawled on the couch watching New Zealand’s Next Top Model, and Game of Thrones in the ads, devouring a bag of chips and a slab of chocolate for dinner. I’d like to take this moment to point out that even though this was a Friday night I was not in fact having a pity party. There was nothing I wanted to do more than blob on the couch watching telly with junk food, but somehow it detracted from the “I am Woman, hear me roar” message my friend was trying to pass on to me. Cue cynical self-laughter (if you won’t laugh at yourself cynically who will? Openly that is).

It was a sweet thought though and I made sure to empower myself the very next day:

I spent most of the day in an apron baking and cooking dinner for some friends, took a short break to go for a run along the beach in the cold, and then proceeded to get sozzled while dining and applying makeup (not normally the best combination but it didn’t turn out too badly) before going to watch a pole dancing show. It was absolutely amazing! I can’t wait to start myself! Well, obviously I don’t have any patience because I volunteered to try out a couple of moves in front of everyone. For future, tight dresses are not ideal when trying to swing around a pole or lift your legs up. Also, upper body strength would be helpful. It was only my first go though, and it can only go up from here (lame pun). I must say though, they were a little scantily clad, but then if I had a body like that perhaps I’d consider leaving the privacy of my room to dance around in my undies too.

Hope

Well it sure is hard to keep a blog. Well... No it’s not, but it sure is hard for me to do anything consistently at length it seems. Round two! Since last I posted lots of things have happened to me, I learned about love, life, how stupid boys are, how stupid I can be, and melodramatic geez, but most importantly, how important friends are to helping you through your stupidities. I won’t say who you are but you know, and thank you.

On a slightly happier note however, I met Jane Goodall! Well... I saw her give an incredibly inspiring speech that I will never forget, filmed her greeting the crowd in Chimp, and sat three rows behind her. It was probably one of the happiest moments of my life. I haven’t decided whether this is sad or not. She is my hero though. I hope to be just like her one day if and when I grow up. I don’t know how I will achieve this. I’m in archaeology not biology, I don’t appear to be as driven as she is, I’m a little scared of chimpanzees after watching her documentaries.. But what I believe she was trying to convey to us was that we should never give up hope, no matter what it is we have hope in. I know I’m a bit of an idealist, hopeless romantic and a, daydream believer (and a homecoming queeee-eeen (but not really), but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. Jane has proven time and again the importance of hope, and faith, and believing in yourself, and in others, no matter how hard it might seem to do so. I think this message is incredibly important because it is always much easier to throw the towel in and decide not to care rather than put yourself out there, strive for what you believe in, and try to make a difference.

I haven’t decided yet how I am going to make a difference. I try everyday to do some sort of good deed, not to make a difference but rather because I’ve had so many done to me it’s only fair to reciprocate to the universe. I’m planning to start walking dogs for the SPCA, and also to run the half marathon in September to raise money for the SPCA, but plans aren’t always followed through unfortunately. I don’t know what I can do to make a lasting difference. But all we have is now and every little bit helps. So long as you never give up hope.

So right now, apart from the ever-looming thesis, and my plans for exercise and goodwill, I think what I will choose to believe and hope in is love. Yes it’s cheesy. Yes it’s not something you just pull out of thin air unfortunately. And yes, it has certainly been the subject of countless movies, songs, plays, books, poems, paintings etc etc and so on and so forth. But surely, I figure, there’s a reason for all that. Better to be a hopeless romantic than plain old hopeless.