Date: Wed, 17 Jan 2001
From: Ceels
Subject: Rodney and the surfing duck
It recently came to my attention that there is a bet running on how long it will take until I return from China (for those of you who don't know I am going to China). Naturally I was outraged (outraged!), but decided that in all fairness I should open the betting to all. Bets must be in to Bec Dridan rdrid@orm… by the 4th of Feb (which is when I finish my tour) and the length of time starts from that date (one month seeing me home on the 5th march), I have signed a contract for six months, (finishing on the 31st of July) and the shortest bet so far is five weeks (thank you Chris).
The stakes haven't been decided, at this stage the winner gets the satisfaction of knowing they were right about me all along. closest to the return date wins.
love to you all
ceels
Monday, 9 June 2008
Sunday, 8 June 2008
strawbries strawbries, three for two dollar
Date: Tue, 12 Dec 2000
From: Ceels
Subject: strawbries strawbries, three for two dollar.
A grave and tragic thing happened this morning at work. you remember the barista I was in love with? deeply in love with? I found out his surname.
Seal
Yes indeedy.
And, ladies and gentlemen, there is no chance of me ever being known as celia seal.
From: Ceels
Subject: strawbries strawbries, three for two dollar.
A grave and tragic thing happened this morning at work. you remember the barista I was in love with? deeply in love with? I found out his surname.
Seal
Yes indeedy.
And, ladies and gentlemen, there is no chance of me ever being known as celia seal.
Saturday, 7 June 2008
Date: Wed, 22 Nov 2000
From: Ceels
On Monday I made the decision to stop drinking coffee
On Tuesday the barista who I fell in love with asked me if I wanted a coffee and I said yes.
What's a girl to do when a boy who makes perfect coffees just the way she likes them offers her a coffee?
I’ve noticed a correlation between people and the type of coffee they drink, more later...
From: Ceels
On Monday I made the decision to stop drinking coffee
On Tuesday the barista who I fell in love with asked me if I wanted a coffee and I said yes.
What's a girl to do when a boy who makes perfect coffees just the way she likes them offers her a coffee?
I’ve noticed a correlation between people and the type of coffee they drink, more later...
Thursday, 5 June 2008
7 signs you get up at five o'clock every morning
Date: Wed, 8 Nov 2000
From: Ceels
Subject: 7 signs you get up at five o'clock every morning
I have found where the stupid people are. They are all in publishing.
When I went out into the world from the hallowed halls and grave traditions of university I was told to be careful, I was warned of the stupid people out there.
I found a couple of stupid people in England. There weren't any stupid people in the kitchen, there is the odd stupid person making coffee, but where were the hordes? the unwashed masses?
Fear not, gentle reader, I have boldly gone and found them for you.
You may consider that after only an hour in my new job that I am being unnecessarily harsh. You are entitled to your own opinion. But if someone asks me if I know where the start button is, they need to expect me to be a little scathing.
If you worked like that in the kitchen you would be belted over the head with something heavy, doused in oil and kicked out so fast you catch on fire on the way out the door. I have met sheep with more individuality and self-direction.
My eyes glazed over and my brain knocked off for the day, fortunately the computer system was not working, so I had to go home.
On a brighter note, making coffee is heaps fun. I have developed a habit of getting a strong iced coffee with no cream for the walk home after work. The way Belinda makes it for me it is more of a triple espresso with ice cream. As I wander home and look at the trees the ice cream bumps against my lips and the caffeine buzzes happily. It is the kind of iced coffee that makes you feel tall and gorgeous.
love you all
ceekls
From: Ceels
Subject: 7 signs you get up at five o'clock every morning
I have found where the stupid people are. They are all in publishing.
When I went out into the world from the hallowed halls and grave traditions of university I was told to be careful, I was warned of the stupid people out there.
I found a couple of stupid people in England. There weren't any stupid people in the kitchen, there is the odd stupid person making coffee, but where were the hordes? the unwashed masses?
Fear not, gentle reader, I have boldly gone and found them for you.
You may consider that after only an hour in my new job that I am being unnecessarily harsh. You are entitled to your own opinion. But if someone asks me if I know where the start button is, they need to expect me to be a little scathing.
If you worked like that in the kitchen you would be belted over the head with something heavy, doused in oil and kicked out so fast you catch on fire on the way out the door. I have met sheep with more individuality and self-direction.
My eyes glazed over and my brain knocked off for the day, fortunately the computer system was not working, so I had to go home.
On a brighter note, making coffee is heaps fun. I have developed a habit of getting a strong iced coffee with no cream for the walk home after work. The way Belinda makes it for me it is more of a triple espresso with ice cream. As I wander home and look at the trees the ice cream bumps against my lips and the caffeine buzzes happily. It is the kind of iced coffee that makes you feel tall and gorgeous.
love you all
ceekls
Wednesday, 4 June 2008
Date: Tue, 31 Oct 2000
From: Ceels
What an eventful day I’ve had, I’ve fallen in love (twice), fallen in hate and been upgraded to making coffee.
I have fallen in love with one of the other baristas who smells quite delicious. Unfortunately he works afternoons. Which was why I was quite good humoured about working an extra shift tonight (it meant I had to close up with him, I thought it was going to be just the two of us (sigh) but the manager was there to do a stock take.
I have fallen in hate with another chap who works there (they must be more tolerant than me, I would have fired him weeks ago) and I wouldn't even mind him so much if it weren't for the fact he smells like he accidentally wet his pants a couple of days ago and forgot to change them.
It was as well I worked this afternoon because a guy I went to school with, and haven't seen since, came in for coffee and I looked up from pouring a tall skinny latte with a shot of vanilla and there he was and I fell in love again. Naturally, I blushed crimson (very very) but maintained enough composure to get his number.
I worked from 7am to 7pm today, with a four-hour break at lunch. In my break I went home and did three loads of washing (in the washing machine that Lex and I fixed all by ourselves yesterday, yes we are real diy home hardware girls) and while I was putting the second load out I stubbed my little toe and popped off the nail. I hissed and hissed and hissed, but I didn't swear scream or fall in a heap.
I went to the publisher yesterday (where I am doing my second job). The coffeeshop might eventually result in glassy eyes and a hollow heart, but I think data entry will do it right away. The coffee manager keeps trying to convince me to not to do data entry and to work more hours at the coffeeshop (maybe in the afternoons...), but data entry pays more (and I have discovered after my first pay check from the coffeeshop (compared to the kitchen) that I quite like money) and I have said yes to data entry (although I also said yes every time the publishing lady said 'and of course you can type really fast').
but I must away, my stomach is calling,
much love (oh yes indeedy)
ceels
From: Ceels
What an eventful day I’ve had, I’ve fallen in love (twice), fallen in hate and been upgraded to making coffee.
I have fallen in love with one of the other baristas who smells quite delicious. Unfortunately he works afternoons. Which was why I was quite good humoured about working an extra shift tonight (it meant I had to close up with him, I thought it was going to be just the two of us (sigh) but the manager was there to do a stock take.
I have fallen in hate with another chap who works there (they must be more tolerant than me, I would have fired him weeks ago) and I wouldn't even mind him so much if it weren't for the fact he smells like he accidentally wet his pants a couple of days ago and forgot to change them.
It was as well I worked this afternoon because a guy I went to school with, and haven't seen since, came in for coffee and I looked up from pouring a tall skinny latte with a shot of vanilla and there he was and I fell in love again. Naturally, I blushed crimson (very very) but maintained enough composure to get his number.
I worked from 7am to 7pm today, with a four-hour break at lunch. In my break I went home and did three loads of washing (in the washing machine that Lex and I fixed all by ourselves yesterday, yes we are real diy home hardware girls) and while I was putting the second load out I stubbed my little toe and popped off the nail. I hissed and hissed and hissed, but I didn't swear scream or fall in a heap.
I went to the publisher yesterday (where I am doing my second job). The coffeeshop might eventually result in glassy eyes and a hollow heart, but I think data entry will do it right away. The coffee manager keeps trying to convince me to not to do data entry and to work more hours at the coffeeshop (maybe in the afternoons...), but data entry pays more (and I have discovered after my first pay check from the coffeeshop (compared to the kitchen) that I quite like money) and I have said yes to data entry (although I also said yes every time the publishing lady said 'and of course you can type really fast').
but I must away, my stomach is calling,
much love (oh yes indeedy)
ceels
Tuesday, 3 June 2008
How to irritate your housemates (without really trying)
Date: Tue, 24 Oct 2000
From: Ceels
Subject: How to irritate your housemates (without really trying)
Today I was upgraded at the coffeeshop to heating milk. Consequently, I smell like warm milk, which is no bad thing compared to calamari intestines, but I might have to resort to two showers a day. One so that I am awake enough to serve customers and one so that I don't smell like sour milk for the rest of the day.
I am getting up every day at five or six am, which is something (you may be surprised) I am quite used to. I had forgotten though, that you still wake at five or six on the weekends too. and I have developed several techniques (inherited from my mum) to encourage my housemates to get up, too, and play with me.
My favourite is to open the door to upstairs and cook bacon and eggs. If I do that at nine, I am guaranteed to get someone out of bed by ten. The smell of freshly brewed coffee is actually more effective for Lex, but I won't drink it, so it would be a waste to make it. I have not stooped to mum's most-used ploy, which is to open the door at the end of our corridor, then open our bedroom doors and incite the budgie into impressions of a train going through a tunnel or plastic bags rustling in the cupboard.
This is largely because we don't have a budgie.
Nor am I allowed to get a budgie.
And I have been told quite firmly I will be kicked out of the house to live in the gutter if I bring home any ducklings from the market. Pip and Lex are being quite unreasonable on this point. They have some theory about the ducks getting bigger and pooing all over the courtyard.
Our washing machine is all over. it was struggling valiantly with my jeans until suddenly it made a peculiar noise and started smoking. I think that is not good, but I will have a fossick around underneath and see if I can't fix it.
ceels
From: Ceels
Subject: How to irritate your housemates (without really trying)
Today I was upgraded at the coffeeshop to heating milk. Consequently, I smell like warm milk, which is no bad thing compared to calamari intestines, but I might have to resort to two showers a day. One so that I am awake enough to serve customers and one so that I don't smell like sour milk for the rest of the day.
I am getting up every day at five or six am, which is something (you may be surprised) I am quite used to. I had forgotten though, that you still wake at five or six on the weekends too. and I have developed several techniques (inherited from my mum) to encourage my housemates to get up, too, and play with me.
My favourite is to open the door to upstairs and cook bacon and eggs. If I do that at nine, I am guaranteed to get someone out of bed by ten. The smell of freshly brewed coffee is actually more effective for Lex, but I won't drink it, so it would be a waste to make it. I have not stooped to mum's most-used ploy, which is to open the door at the end of our corridor, then open our bedroom doors and incite the budgie into impressions of a train going through a tunnel or plastic bags rustling in the cupboard.
This is largely because we don't have a budgie.
Nor am I allowed to get a budgie.
And I have been told quite firmly I will be kicked out of the house to live in the gutter if I bring home any ducklings from the market. Pip and Lex are being quite unreasonable on this point. They have some theory about the ducks getting bigger and pooing all over the courtyard.
Our washing machine is all over. it was struggling valiantly with my jeans until suddenly it made a peculiar noise and started smoking. I think that is not good, but I will have a fossick around underneath and see if I can't fix it.
ceels
Monday, 2 June 2008
there's only one thing worse than Lionel Ritchie at six in the morning
Date: Tue, 17 Oct 2000
From: Ceels
Subject: there's only one thing worse than Lionel Ritchie at six in the morning.
realising you know all the words
From: Ceels
Subject: there's only one thing worse than Lionel Ritchie at six in the morning.
realising you know all the words
Sunday, 1 June 2008
I could get used to doing an easy job and having heaps of hours off to see people and do stuff
Date: Mon, 16 Oct 2000
From: Ceels
Subject: I could get used to doing an easy job and having heaps of hours off to see people and do stuff.
Dear all
I have begun my new job as a coffee maker at the coffeeshop on the crn of Bourke and queen streets. At the moment I am only trusted on the till, but I am going to be trained to make coffee over the week.
I like this job. Everybody looks more beautiful when they are buying coffee and everybody instinctively loves you because they know you are going to give them coffee, so I get to smile at people all day long.
However, the Kitchen has ruined my work ethic. I scoff at the idea of a three-hour shift (what's the point in working less than eight hours). I scoff at the idea of an unpaid half hour break (what am I going to do? sit down?). I can't relax, while I’m at work I have to be doing something, so I keep finding things to clean and doing the 'must be cleaned list' (what, do you mean this cupboard doesn't get cleaned out at the end of every shift?)
The only draw back is that when I get money out of the till the shirt I am wearing allows the customer a full view of my cleavage. I am going to go and buy another shirt now.
I am going to China at the beginning of February.
love you
ceels
From: Ceels
Subject: I could get used to doing an easy job and having heaps of hours off to see people and do stuff.
Dear all
I have begun my new job as a coffee maker at the coffeeshop on the crn of Bourke and queen streets. At the moment I am only trusted on the till, but I am going to be trained to make coffee over the week.
I like this job. Everybody looks more beautiful when they are buying coffee and everybody instinctively loves you because they know you are going to give them coffee, so I get to smile at people all day long.
However, the Kitchen has ruined my work ethic. I scoff at the idea of a three-hour shift (what's the point in working less than eight hours). I scoff at the idea of an unpaid half hour break (what am I going to do? sit down?). I can't relax, while I’m at work I have to be doing something, so I keep finding things to clean and doing the 'must be cleaned list' (what, do you mean this cupboard doesn't get cleaned out at the end of every shift?)
The only draw back is that when I get money out of the till the shirt I am wearing allows the customer a full view of my cleavage. I am going to go and buy another shirt now.
I am going to China at the beginning of February.
love you
ceels
Saturday, 31 May 2008
life
Date: Tue, 10 Oct 2000
From: Ceels
Subject: life
Okay,
I have finished at the Kitchen, spent a week lounging in the sun and now my life has started again.
I went home on the weekend for my mum's birthday. I caught the train (an experience which always makes me wish I owned a car). but if I owned a car then I wouldn't have seen what I saw.
I happened to be looking out the window (my book was being boring) just before the train went under the Westgate Bridge on the way out of town. there was a dead man spread eagled under the bridge. he was in a black suit with a crisp white shirt and an expensive watch, and there were three policemen standing around looking puzzled.
Then, as we were passing the exit to Hoppers Crossing, I saw a wedding party. The bride and groom were crouched in that yellow flowering weed having their photo taken and all the wedding cars were lined up on the side of the highway.
So far this week I have got a job making coffee, (which starts on Friday); I have arranged to go to the zoo with that boy whom I emailed because I liked his name and I have got a job teaching English in China, which starts in January. I can't help but wonder what is going to happen with the rest of the week, seeing that we are only up to Tuesday.
This was the nine o'clock news
ceels
From: Ceels
Subject: life
Okay,
I have finished at the Kitchen, spent a week lounging in the sun and now my life has started again.
I went home on the weekend for my mum's birthday. I caught the train (an experience which always makes me wish I owned a car). but if I owned a car then I wouldn't have seen what I saw.
I happened to be looking out the window (my book was being boring) just before the train went under the Westgate Bridge on the way out of town. there was a dead man spread eagled under the bridge. he was in a black suit with a crisp white shirt and an expensive watch, and there were three policemen standing around looking puzzled.
Then, as we were passing the exit to Hoppers Crossing, I saw a wedding party. The bride and groom were crouched in that yellow flowering weed having their photo taken and all the wedding cars were lined up on the side of the highway.
So far this week I have got a job making coffee, (which starts on Friday); I have arranged to go to the zoo with that boy whom I emailed because I liked his name and I have got a job teaching English in China, which starts in January. I can't help but wonder what is going to happen with the rest of the week, seeing that we are only up to Tuesday.
This was the nine o'clock news
ceels
Eventually
This was going to be the craft room, but it told me, the other day when I was home sick, that it wants to be a study.
There is now much less stuff in it (but where has the stuff gone you ask).
My room, I swear this is a little neater now, and has more furniture.
Jem's (I swear it's a little messier now) (the photo flatly refused to rotate, so you'll have to tip your head:)
Kitchen - much the same state, really, just different quantities of mess.
This space got much neater, but is now covered in piles of yarn (I have been having a splendid time, playing in the stash)
This is where I was talking to you (member I said I took a picture?)
Bathroom, taps keep falling off in the shower. And, yes, those are all my toiletries in the bath (they were in a yarn bag and I needed it back in a hurry. Now I don't know where to put them all)
I didn't take a picture of the toilet, you can see that when you get here.
The only day I have spent at home was the day that I was sick, so the mess hasn't moved far. I am looking forward to a full measure of good health and spare time. And now I am going to troop guiltily to bed (this late hour is exactly why I shouldn't be allowed the internet (or gin)).
Be well.
There is now much less stuff in it (but where has the stuff gone you ask).
My room, I swear this is a little neater now, and has more furniture.
Jem's (I swear it's a little messier now) (the photo flatly refused to rotate, so you'll have to tip your head:)
Kitchen - much the same state, really, just different quantities of mess.
This space got much neater, but is now covered in piles of yarn (I have been having a splendid time, playing in the stash)
This is where I was talking to you (member I said I took a picture?)
Bathroom, taps keep falling off in the shower. And, yes, those are all my toiletries in the bath (they were in a yarn bag and I needed it back in a hurry. Now I don't know where to put them all)
I didn't take a picture of the toilet, you can see that when you get here.
The only day I have spent at home was the day that I was sick, so the mess hasn't moved far. I am looking forward to a full measure of good health and spare time. And now I am going to troop guiltily to bed (this late hour is exactly why I shouldn't be allowed the internet (or gin)).
Be well.
Monday, 24 March 2008
Easter weekend pictures for Bec
The Grimshaws gave us the biggest damn cray I have ever seen. 3.5 kg.
Can you work out which one is my dad and which my uncle? It makes me think that perhaps there is a certain model husband I should be looking at. (Jade is 'helping')
I like this shot, even though it makes both of them look a bit truncated (I was standing down the step, under the back verandah). (Can you see Jade? in almost the same spot, still 'helping').
This reminds me of a scene from Emily of New Moon, even though he is not actually reciting poetry. That dot you can see is the Easter full moon.
In the spirit of being an "Alice" weekend, they later broke the chimineer by trying to hammer a log in with another log... it was fun while it lasted. The backyard was spooky - I should have gone over to the beach.
Can you work out which one is my dad and which my uncle? It makes me think that perhaps there is a certain model husband I should be looking at. (Jade is 'helping')
I like this shot, even though it makes both of them look a bit truncated (I was standing down the step, under the back verandah). (Can you see Jade? in almost the same spot, still 'helping').
This reminds me of a scene from Emily of New Moon, even though he is not actually reciting poetry. That dot you can see is the Easter full moon.
In the spirit of being an "Alice" weekend, they later broke the chimineer by trying to hammer a log in with another log... it was fun while it lasted. The backyard was spooky - I should have gone over to the beach.
Sunday, 17 February 2008
meh
It is hot, and I can't sleep and I am grumpy.
And I can smell cake. and there is no cake, and it is making me hungry. It is carrot cake with lemon cream cheese frosting.
and it is hot.
and i am hungry.
I want to move to the mountains.
And I can smell cake. and there is no cake, and it is making me hungry. It is carrot cake with lemon cream cheese frosting.
and it is hot.
and i am hungry.
I want to move to the mountains.
Saturday, 9 February 2008
Andavadoaka
So far, the second year of teaching far out strips the first, but I still have a bucket full of doubts about the whole malarkey.
Sometimes it is nice to remember/be reminded that I lived here for a while.
Even if I never get a chance to go back.
Sometimes it is nice to remember/be reminded that I lived here for a while.
Even if I never get a chance to go back.
Wednesday, 6 February 2008
migratory habits of food in the kitchen
This one got lost somewhere, it is here now.
Date: Wed, 14 Jun 2000 05:49:07 +0100 (BST)
From: Ceels
Subject: migratory habits of food in the kitchen.
When I was little someone gave me a book on migration and it fascinated me.
I have noticed the same phenomenon in the kitchen. The only notable difference is that the food separates into two migratory factions. The food you chase around the kitchen and the food that follows you round the kitchen.
I arrive at work. I begin my mis-en-place (preparation for service). I notice that my sugar (which I filled last night) is missing. I hunt down a 1-litre bucket and descend to the dry store. I fill the bucket and return, complete. My task here is done.
Later. An order is called away for toffee-apple kebabs. The sugar is gone. I find it in larder (section). I use it and put it on my shelf.
5 mins later. It is gone.
The stuff that follows you is more insidious. No matter how many times you put it away or take it downstairs, it always returns to somewhere you won't see it and will tip it over. Fish stock is particularly prone to this. Incidentally, fish stock is the hardest kitchen stain (apart from ball point pen) to remove from your clothes. I have got everything else out (including my own blood), but not the fish stock or the ink.
Maybe it is the teatowel dragon who is taking the sugar. The teatowel dragon slinks around the kitchen, breathing steam and puffing little pilot lights of blue flame. The neon light glints off her invisible scales and she waits, watching, for an opportunity to snag that teatowel to just beyond your grasping fingertips.
She sets them alight when you are not concentrating and lobs them up behind the bamboo steamers when you lapse in vigilance.
Mum says I have an overactive imagination and that I romanticise life excessively.
Date: Wed, 14 Jun 2000 05:49:07 +0100 (BST)
From: Ceels
Subject: migratory habits of food in the kitchen.
When I was little someone gave me a book on migration and it fascinated me.
I have noticed the same phenomenon in the kitchen. The only notable difference is that the food separates into two migratory factions. The food you chase around the kitchen and the food that follows you round the kitchen.
I arrive at work. I begin my mis-en-place (preparation for service). I notice that my sugar (which I filled last night) is missing. I hunt down a 1-litre bucket and descend to the dry store. I fill the bucket and return, complete. My task here is done.
Later. An order is called away for toffee-apple kebabs. The sugar is gone. I find it in larder (section). I use it and put it on my shelf.
5 mins later. It is gone.
The stuff that follows you is more insidious. No matter how many times you put it away or take it downstairs, it always returns to somewhere you won't see it and will tip it over. Fish stock is particularly prone to this. Incidentally, fish stock is the hardest kitchen stain (apart from ball point pen) to remove from your clothes. I have got everything else out (including my own blood), but not the fish stock or the ink.
Maybe it is the teatowel dragon who is taking the sugar. The teatowel dragon slinks around the kitchen, breathing steam and puffing little pilot lights of blue flame. The neon light glints off her invisible scales and she waits, watching, for an opportunity to snag that teatowel to just beyond your grasping fingertips.
She sets them alight when you are not concentrating and lobs them up behind the bamboo steamers when you lapse in vigilance.
Mum says I have an overactive imagination and that I romanticise life excessively.
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