NYE 2007 Party

So tonight I'm gonna parrrrty like it's

Two

Thousaaand

and Seven

New Year, Old Year, What Year

Join me.
Don't set a New Year's resolution in 2008.
Set twelve new month resolutions instead.
Make them each something to start doing rather than something to stop doing.
Don't decide them all now. Just decide January now. Decide February in a months time.
I think it will be better this way. For all of us.

You know you'll fail otherwise. Hardly anyone actually achieves their New Years resolutions do they? What's so special about the "New Year" anyhow? It's really just a number. And an arbitrary and relative one at that.

Maybe not make a resolution at all - at least not based on a date. I did that back in September. Remember this post I made? I'll update you......

1. Do something selfless every day. Well, this got off to a great start. Even today, I often find myself doing something that I wouldn't otherwise - for someone else. But here's the thing. It's usually for my wife or kids, and it always ends up in me feeling better. So is it selfless? Who cares! On a scale of 1-10, I'll rank myself an even 5. Not a bad start, but some room for improvement. More on the every day bit.
2. Get strong again. Again, a good start. New program, got going for a few weeks. Then stopped. Why? I don't know. I have to reassess. 1 out of 10.
3. Eat vegetables every day. Not every day, and not much variety. I am thinking a lot more like "I'll add some veges to that" but certainly not every meal. 3 out of 10.
4. Trust your intuition. This is going a little bit better. Making decisions that go against the flow, but safely. No hitting of rocks beneath the surface yet. 6 out of 10.
5. Choose yes. Aaaahhh yes. This is a good one. I've definitely been saying yes more often. But you know what? I've also been saying no a lot more too. The driving force for saying yes more often is knowing when to say it, therefore when you know you shouldn't the answer is no. Keep on keeping on. Just do it. 7 out of 10.

So overall, I score myself 22 out of 50. Bah! Only 44% Not even a pass conceded!

I'd better work on the workouts and veges a bit more. Choose yes Mbrain, choose yes!

OK, so my New-Month resolution for January is (drum roll ........... )

Exercise for four hours every week for the next 5 weeks. Cycle, resistance, run, whatever. And since tomorrow is Monday, I'll start a day early!

It was the best of days, it was the worst of days

So here's my coffee day. Turns out that due to lack of numbers, the day was switched to Friday.

I decided to catch the train into the city. Now I never catch the train - not since I was a poor student but I wanted to avoid the hassle of parking in the CBD so I drove to Sutherland and got an all stations to Town Hall. Commuter trains are very depressing. Everyone is sad. No-one is smiling. You smile at someone as they walk past to find a seat and they look at you like you're a freak. Everyone buries their head in a book, or stares blankly out the window. Everywhere but at the people around them. Except for some Argentinian tourists. They seemed like ordinary people. Turns out, they got on the right line but were going in the wrong direction. And they didn't care, they were just laughing and got off at the next stop to catch the other train back.

The barista class was in the Dymocks building, so this was easy to find too. I walked in and the first thing the instructor did was offer me a coffee. Sure. And it was awesome. Great I think, I'm going to be able to make coffee like this!

There was only 3 in the class - but that's good. More attention, less waiting. One was another guy who was also given the class as a gift. The other was a young girl who'd just finished her HSC and was going to live in the UK, and was after some skills to find work. Pretty good idea.

We were introduced to the history of coffee, how (and when, by who and where) it is grown, picked, washed, dried, sorted, roasted, ground, etc, etc, etc. Then, it was on to the frothing. This is the bit that I was looking forward to the most. If I could make perfect milk froth at home, then I would be a coffee legend and all those who come before me would kneel and thank their maker that they could be so blessed as to be in my presence. Um... er.... perhaps they'd just say "Hey, great coffee Mbrain!" That'd do fine.

So it turns out that I'm f*&#ing great at frothing milk. After just a few attempts, I had perfect (yes perfect) micro froth. I think the phrase used by the instructor was "Excellent milk Mbrain!" It's all about the swirl you see. Get the swirl going, introduce a little bit of air, move to the centre to create a vortex, then out again to keep it going to reach 60 degrees. That's it. Sounds simple, and I was a natural.

I'm the man.

Next, the espresso. Now, my home machine is super-auto, so all this was only partially relevant to my situation, however I could apply some of the concepts to adjust my machine to make the best coffee possible. Apparently Jura don't make the grind fine enough and therefore the pour is too quick. Apparently 25 seconds for a 30mL espresso is the "ideal". More on that later. The machines in the course are San Marino 2 group espresso machines, just like this 3 group one I saw on ebay last night.

So then we went through all the coffee styles. Espresso, cappuccino, caffe latte, macchiato, ristretto, long black, long white, doppio, caffe mocha, etc, etc. And made them all. Again, I was freaking awesome at it.

Wrapping things up, we learned about cleaning the machine and that was the day. Awesome. I learned some great skills, had a fun day and could now go home and make brilliant coffee at home. Wooot!

I'll spare you details of the train ride home. More of the same boring people doing nothing except stare at their shoes or pretend they're on the set of The Return of the Living Dead.

I get home. Fire up the machine. Ok, adjust grind, adjust water volume, yes, that looks about right. OK, milk into jug, setup milk thermometer. Right, go!

No swirl.

Shit.

What the fuck. Try again, different angle. Go.

No swirl.

Mother.

I wanted to smash things. The perfect day turns to shit. Well, that's a bit over the top. It was very very frustrating. To know that you can do this, and to get home and it not work was infuriating. And why was it not working? The steam wand on my machine is designed exclusively for coffee novices who can't be bothered to learn how to froth milk properly. There is no "normal" nozzle to do it properly. You see, the nozzle has a HUGE hole so the velocity of the steam is quite low - meaning no spin. No spin means no micro foam. So it's either warm non frothed milk, or a bubbly mess.

I found this after frantic googling last night. Someone with the same problem who solved it by fitting a different tip, from a different machine. Smaller holes, higher speed, better swirl. Now all I have to do is do the same thing. So that's my mission. Find a tip that will fit my steam wand that doesn't have holes the size of the grand canyon.

So all in all, a great day. Accentuated by frustration, tempered by a mission. Coffee magic on hold, but only temporarily. Watch this space peeps.

Barista

My wife booked me into a barista course for Christmas. It's this Thursday. What else can I say but .......

I'm very impressed. :-) The more I think about it, the more I'm looking forward to it. I think I'm going to be making a lot more coffee in the next few months. Likewise, I don't think I'm going to get any sleep in the next few months either. hehehe.

hehehe!

Sorry kids

Sorry kids. Santa just left my place and he's not in great shape. He might finish his work down under, but I doubt he'll go the distance. Too many Aussie Dads left beer out for him tonight. I gave him some Berocca, strapped him into his sleigh and slapped Rudolph on the arse to send him on his way.

Lists

It's the time of year for lists.

Finish gift shopping - tick
Finish grocery shopping - tick
Mow lawns - tick
Take garbage to the tip - tick
Assemble bike - tick
Weed garden
Sweep deck
Gerni paths
Buy veal and scotch fillet
Finish wrapping presents
Make sauerkraut
Prepare chilli tomato sauce
Prepare schnitzel
Brush pool table
Clean trampoline
Make cakes
Vacuum everything
Clean everything
Fix broken things
Get pissed!
EAT TOO MUCH!!
Take broken presents back to the shop on boxing day
Spend money from people who couldn't think of something to buy
Take back clothes to shop from people who don't know my size

etc

you get the drift

I still have a lot to do. I need to develop OCD. Is there a pill I can take? Or is there an OCD service I can call?

"OCD Rentals, can I help you?"
"Hello, yes, I'd like an OCD for the weekend please."
"How much are you willing to spend sir?"
"Well, I can provide lodging and meals."
"That is possible, but within that price range I can only offer Helga, a Swedish backpacker."
"That will be fine. Can you send her round right away? I have a long list you see."
"Yes sir. All we ask is that there are fresh sheets and a six-pack of beer waiting on arrival."
"Consider it done! Thanks!"

Now that would be a great Christmas.

Excuse my two posts

Please excuse my past two posts. They are cryptic, confusing and weird. To, I imagine, anyone but me. Unless you want to guess what they're about. You might guess right I suppose. Either way, it's just a little victory dance. Back to normal programming now. Ciou!

YES

Again, I got what I wanted.
I am the alpha, and the omega. You are useless.
Victory against the odds.
Brain over brawn.
Pen over sword.
Good over evil.
Truth, justice and the m.b.r.a.i.n way.
Figjam.
I do not arbitrate, I conciliate.
Lured into my rabbit warren, your fat belly is caught.
Resistance was futile.
The power is not to the people.
You fought the law and the law won.
Don't push me 'cause you're close to the edge. I didn't lose my head! U-huh-huh-huh-huh!
Watch out for the hit-man!
You my bitch.
Meet my friend, pain!

I am the champion, my friend. I kept on fighting to the end! No time for losers, 'cause I am the champion. Of the world!

Almost

So close I can taste it.
On the cusp.
Nearly there.
You know you want it too.
Yes, Marcellus Wallace does look like a bitch.
Giddyup.

Traditions

No, this is not a boring post about Christmas traditions. Been there, done that. This is a different, weird kind of tradition. I realised this week that I seem to be starting a little kind of tradition with the kids. Often now when they ask me to guess what they got from the shop, or what they want for a gift, or what they want for lunch, or what they had a dream about, or anything.... my answer is "a bunch of bananas?" And I always seem to elicit a laugh. Even from myself. Then, when they ask me for something, or question me about something, or anything similar.... my answer is "what did the frog say?" Again, a chuckle from said child. How did this begin? I think I was joking around about how much wood would a wood chuck chuck if a wood chuck could chuck wood and somehow I worked in the frog and the bananas bit. We are a strange family. Unique, just like everyone else. Anyway, beware fellow bloggers! If I'm reading your blog and you are "asking the internets" or posting about "guess what my secret is" don't be surprised if I respond with an answer involving a) frogs, b) bananas or c) both of the above. Don't say I didn't warn you!

Shopping blues

Today, I went Christmas shopping. Most things had already been taken care of, I just had a few odds and ends to pick up. Normally, I quite enjoy going shopping at Christmas. I don't mind the crowds at all. I like to browse through shop after shop, eventually I'll spy the one item that I think "yes, so-and-so would love that!"

And so it goes. Well, that's how it normally goes. Not today.

Is it just me or are all the stores the same, selling all the same junk for the same over-price? There is no variety, no uniqueness, no quality. In one afternoon, the joy of Christmas was pegged back a couple of notches. I was reminded of it's consumer focus, one-up-manship, slap on some tinsel and call me Santa fakeness.

Can I ban department stores at Christmas please? Can I pass a law so that you have to think about why you give gifts to be allowed to participate? Should there be a Christmas citizenshipesque test that you have to pass before you can get your tickets? Please, everyone prick your finger and sign your name in blood, that you shall only give one gift per person.

Every store I went into was the same. Same products, same prices, same storefronts, same displays, same music playing, blah blah blech! I was so disillusioned.

But I'm not cranky. I know that the kids will love what they unwrap from Santa. I know that we'll all stuff ourselves and have an afternoon nap. I know that I'll laugh at the Panel Christmas Wrap. It will be all good, in the end.

Wouldn't it be great if it snowed too?

In my letter to Santa, I asked him to bring me peace.

Inner peace.

Please understand me

I am of 1 percent. This is why you may not understand me. Let me explain the unexplainable.

You may find me as being confident, but this is in knowledge not in action. I am my own worse critic and whatever accomplishment I achieve, there is always something that can be improved upon next time. Making the same mistake twice is abhorrent. That said, my confidence in knowledge may appear to also come across as arrogance, since I make decisions very quickly and easily. You may convince me to change my mind, but the logic had better be perfect. If you try to influence me with authority, give up now. I will always, always be thinking about the next possibility, even if what's happening today is not resolved. But this is not about detail, it is about systems, the new theory, and the consequences. And no new possibility is too far fetched.

You may find that while I am close to you, I am still very very far away. Everyone who knows me will find, at some time, that they don't really know me. I am the most difficult person to buy for. I am very particular in my tastes - of style, entertainment, women, food. And yet these tastes do not have a theme, they would appear random to you. But to me, they all have a certain quality that cannot be quantified, except in my minds eye.

You may find me cold or even hard to read. My emotions are externally kept in check, but I am hypersensitive to rejection. You may think that I don't care about what you are saying, but this is not intentional. Call me a cheat, a liar, or a fake and I might not care. Call me foolish, stupid or incompetent and I'll put you in your place, back in the rat hole you crawled out of. Only I can assess my own capabilities and they are private. I value competence above all else. I will find you attractive if you are my intellectual equal.

You may find that I observe life from the sidelines. A voyeur perhaps. But the idea of getting involved is great, it will give me the opportunity to learn something new. But I'll only do it once.
I need autonomy and privacy, and I am fiercely independent. I need you to be as well, I won't be your crutch for long. I am firm and consistent. Don't ask me to repeat myself.

You may find that I lose track of time. I forget appointments, birthdays, what day it is, and what you just said to me. But I remember what you said, word for word, in a conversation we had three years ago.

This is only a portrait. Hang it on the wall, but you'll still now know me. Only I will ever know me. I don't have the words to explain. Just accept me. Please.

Choice

Choices, Decisions, Outcomes.
This is what we all must understand.
There are choices that face us.
We make a decision on which way to go.
The outcome is what we then must live with.

You are stoned.
Wrong decision.
You are warned of possible outcomes.

When faced with the next choice.
You decide incorrectly again, and are found out.
The warning is sterner. Outcomes closer.

Tempting choices.
Another poor decision.
Final warning.

Another choice.
Final decision.
Outcome assured.

Your back is a welcome sight.
You disappear in the smoke.
No-one cares.
And no-one will remember you.

Your choice, your decision, becomes my choice, my decision, becomes your outcome.
I sleep well knowing that you are not.

I can't paint, but let me decide

I watched a re-run of Star Portraits tonight - it was the first one with Michael Parkinson. I remember a little bit of it from last time, but not enough to think that The New Adventures of Old Christine would be better viewing.

One of the artists said something that really struck a chord with me. I've mentioned it before, but this summed it up very nicely. She said (I'm paraphrasing here) that painting is similar to cricket. The ball comes at the batsman very fast, and it is only reflexes that enables them to hit it. They must rely on body language to pick up cues on how and when the ball will be bowled. And this is like her when she is painting. She just starts, and the painting is a process, and it just comes to her somehow. Both are examples of how you can teach technique, but this does not make you a batsman, or an artist.

So true. So why does this strike a chord with me? There are things that I do, know, and mostly decide, that cannot be explained by rules. I seem to have a knack of summing up complex environments in a relatively short time and making correct judgements about them. I know how decisions should be made. Heck, I've even taught decision making as a process skill. But there are intricacies that cannot be easily constructed within a linear decision making framework. There are factors in systemic frameworks where multiple objectives interact with multiple alternatives and link with multiple outcomes. Stop rambling M, you lost them at Parkinson.

I thought I was wrong once but I was mistaken.

Wrong

A good friend of Mrs M passed away last night.
Since when is 29 old enough to have a heart attack?
"Who will take me on my first day of school?" her youngest daughter asks her father.
She shouldn't have to ask.
It's all just plain wrong.

The little things

Sometimes, it's something really small that makes a big difference. Your faith in humanity is strengthened. You start to believe that the little guy can come out on top after all.

I bought my mother a birthday card and a gift voucher from a book store. Angus & Robertson. Not expecting a positive response, I asked the girl serving me, "you don't happen to sell postage stamps do you?"

I wanted to send the card right away, but the post office was closed and I couldn't get there the next day.

"No, but I think we have some here. I could give you one."

"I could kiss you."
I didn't actually say that. I actually said.....

"Really? That'd be great! Thanks!"

"You're welcome"

"You're a lifesaver!"
I did actually say that.

"No problem"

"I've always have had a thing for girls who work in bookstores. How about we meet up for a drink later?"
I definitely didn't say that. I actually said....

"Merry Christmas"

So, I left the store, quite chuffed. I'll go back there, to that Angus & Robertson store.

By the way, Mrs Mbrain is a teacher and trained librarian.

(I think that's all I have to say about that)

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

I'm getting in the mood now. The tree is up, the lights are twinkling, the carols are playing. Good old Bing and Frank. Or Harry Connick Jr. Office Christmas parties. After work drinks. Too many people shopping. Nowhere to park. Too much to eat. Give the house a spring clean. Scrub the deck and weed the garden. Get the spare bed ready for visitors. Stock up on their favourite wine and breakfast cereal. I must finish writing all those Christmas cards. Drive around the neighbourhood looking at lights. What the heck am I going to buy my mother this year? You can't get good wrapping paper any more. Real tuppence and threepence in the pudding. Smile at a stranger in the street. They smile back. Santa in the department store. I wear a Santa hat to work. Hand out candy canes. Real Scottish shortbread. Everyone's happy.

who am i Tony?, who the fuck are you?

i'm hiding more now
so it seems
or is it a return
to who i know is me?

shutting out the world
briefly each day
perhaps the opposite is true
i'd just forgotten

free will begets consequence
unannounced, uncalled for
slow, dire, wearing
and a bad dream at midnight
alone

'till the morning sun streams
the morning shower refreshes
the morning brew sharpens
your senses
and i hear kookaburras mocking me

they were my dreams
my self, being, alive
i aspired, mine inspired
a stage, my oyster
mine all the same

b u
b i
2 thyne own self 2 b tru

i've been to paradise
and i'm going back to me

Sunday Lunch Special Leftovers

But wait...... there's more!

White Chocolate Tart with Raspberries and Double-Cream

Saturday Night Special

No pizza this week.

Christmas has come early.

Leftovers anyone?