the glass castle

last week i finished reading The Glass Castle, a memoir by New York journalist Jeanette Walls, telling of her most impoverished childhood to an extent where you just read with your mouth half agape, astonished that this is real, and utterly amazed by the absence of any resentment towards her parents for bringing them up in this way.

i'm normally a fiction kind of gal, the not-too-heavy variety... chick lits, thrillers, Dan Browns... but once in a while I find myself reading something 'serious' and finding that one great book impacts my life a hundred fold more than a bunch of fictions. This was one of those.

I highly highly recommend this book. it's funny and heartbreaking at the same time... it's written with beautiful simplicity... it makes you cherish everything you have... and makes you love your parents that little bit more.

This is a snippet of an interview with Jeanette, but it might not mean much to you unless you've read the book. Her mother... what an incredibly selfish woman, but still, Jeanette holds no resentment.

this is me...

late lunch at Ottolenghi

after a late night partying at Fabric, Mel C, Grace and I had a late lunch at Ottolenghi in Islington... I don't know how Mel finds these gorgeous Mediterranean cafes but I'm sure not complaining!

sucker for punishment

True, i came out of my first boxing class completely exhilirated and in love with the sport. I even blogged about it that same night! But you should have seen me in the four days hence. d.i.s.a.b.l.e.d.

I may as well have been! the pain completely and utterly blind sided me... like seriously, is this agony for real?

I run, I do pump class, I'm pretty damn sure I can almost crack a nut with my quads ~ my legs are strong. or so I had thought. I was expecting my arms, my chest, my back to ache in the repercussion to my very first boxing class but they were actually fine. my legs, however, what a different story. i have never, and I'm not exaggerating, felt such pain in my legs.. ever.

as of Friday morning, my quads and hamstrings were so. damn. sore. i could not throw my legs out of bed. i couldn't bend my legs in the slightest as I attempted to take each step because walking would mean putting weight on my quads, and nooooo sirreee, they weren't up for it. Eventually I made it to the bathroom and could I sit on the toilet? No! 'course not! cos that would involve weight on my quads! I grasped the seat with my hands, and had to slowly, slooowly lower myself, putting all my weight in my arms. thank god I'm a featherweight.

and that was only the first of many hurdles to come. in and out of the shower - pain. putting my legs in jeans - pain. walking to the bus stop - argh! and as you already know, the sacrifice of walking and in high heels on Friday night. Yeh, I'm vain *grin*

the rest of the weekend and Monday played out in the same way - I really honestly should have had crutches I was in such agony. But thankfully Tuesday saw the pain subside... and Wednesday? Wednesday I'm back in my gloves and at it again. Sucker for punishment...

and i loved it, all over again. Good news is my legs don't hurt today... progress? I can only hope!

last weekend...

... was brilliant. you know those illusive weekends, where you have a big(ish) Friday night... and on Saturday it feels like a Sunday, but it's only Saturday?!?! Yeh, I had one of those. Rare as gold, and definitely more precious!

Friday night was the annual C Hoares & Co "supper party", hosted by Panu's employers and held at the lavish Royal Courts of Justice. The venue was so impressive I'd commit a crime to be tried there. Not too nasty though, or you get sent to the Old Bailey, not nearly as pretty. Recovered from my flu bug but nursing crazy sore legs from boxing, I still put on my new high high heels (there is no beauty without pain, ok) and headed out for a part-ay!

we drank and mingled and made some new friends... by the end of the night my feet were killing me, and it was all I could do to not take my shoes off when the cab dropped us two blocks from home. don't worry, i kept my shoes on. i always keep my shoes on. all class *wink*

Saturday saw the arrival of Grace! A friend from Sydney, here to live and a new play buddy for moi *grin* we ate pizza and hung out, until nap time came tapping on my shoulder...

Fresh from my nap, Panu and I headed out to meet Shawn, Wei-Lin and Barry for dinner at a new restaurant Shawn found ~ and I'm convinced he only wanted to go for the sheer novelty factor of being able to play Battleships on your dining table! No joke, with interactive menus, ordering, chef-cam and games (yes, including Battleships), who wouldn't want to go?





















I highly recommend Inamo. Novelty aside, the system is brilliant - and the food is amazing. Supposedly headed up by an ex-Nobu trained chef, the food is strikingly similar. I ordered the Black Cod for my main, and honestly? could not tell the difference.










Black cod ala Inamo, and Black cod ala Nobu...

The bill also comes back a little lighter, and with a funky bar downstairs for pre & post dinner drinks, what else could you want?

Sunday was a lazy day. Hell it felt like I was given a free day! Panu and I bummed around the west end, and oh yes, right after having a banana & nutella crepe for lunch, I got another nap in!

a few more pics here...

boxing bunny

tonight i had my very first private boxing lesson. i've always been interested in boxing, the same way as i've always wanted to play the drums if i could have picked any musical instrument, but the cost, space and the ridiculous out of time thump-thumping simply outweighed my need to drum... which was probably also best for the sanity of every person in a half mile radius of me.

i tried joining group boxing classes a few years ago but without a consistent partner the same size and weight class as me, i've always found it a let down and stopped. I don't know why it never occurred to me to have private lessons - actually, i know why.. mulah - but geez, talk about enlightenment.

so tonight, i had my first lesson. my trainer taught me about the stance, we jabbed, power punched, ducked, hooked and upper-cutted. and i am sore. and incredibly excited! it was exhilirating... and i think i have found a new hobby... perhaps even a passion....?

hola españa!

so. the girls trip to barcelona was not the best for me... i'd been feeling mildly ill all week and was dosing up on massive quantities of vitamins in order to get better quick, but seemed nature had far more sinister plans for me. my sore throat started getting worse on Friday, and by the time we touched down in Spain, i was swallowing razorblades.

this flu bug got me good.

the girls had a huge (and messy) weekend planned and all I wanted to do was have a bit of spanish fun! But the bug put me in such bad shape that i was drugged up all weekend, no drinkies and certainly no partying for me.

I did manage to venture out for dinner (sick as I am, i still gotta eat) and also wandered around in the warm Spanish sunshine during the day. My highlights? St Josep's market, La Boqueria, where there was food in every shape, size, colour, smell... i downed a fresh kiwi juice to boost the vitamin C and a mango sorbet for my razorblade throat... small treasures which made me feel better if only for an instant.





















I also loved the Sagrada Familia, although didn't have enough time to go inside. a must do for my next trip to Barca, hopefully in the not too distant future...


The plane ride home was nothing short of painful, with my ears blocked... but I survived. Never again.

Babs...

In the early hours of last Thursday morning, Babs gave birth to a little boy... Lachlan Thomas Sutton, weighing in at 3.935kg, who opened his little eyes and looked around the moment he was born.

the strangest thing was that on Wednesday I woke up thinking about Babs, and could not get her out of my mind. I'm not talking about just you know, wondering if she's popped... I was incredibly distracted at work, not able to focus on anything, and had the utmost gut feeling that she was giving birth. So i called her, she didnt pick up (nothing new there)... and I sent her a text to say I was thinking about her... Mags replied that Babs was in labour, about to give birth.

Creeeeepy!

Babs and I go way back. Waaaaaay back, to the days of dance parties and listless gossiping in the university gazebo. We even share an ex-boyfriend, although we'd both rather forget that. We moved to Sydney at the same time, we lived out of each other's pockets... we toiled through hours of wedding invitations... we just were. Babs and I could talk for hours, or not talk for hours, which I loved. To me, she's as good as a sister, one of my best friends...

When I last saw her in Sydney she was 8 months pregnant with little Lachie...

And now she's a mum... I can't believe Babs has a son! It's all I can do to not buy myself a ticket and head home right now to see her.