Tag: awkward moments

The selfie struggle.

Oh, yes. It’s a real first world problem, this one!

Lately, I’ve been scrolling through my Instagram posts and asking myself what I can do to make my account look a bit more appealing. Am I showing a great variety of moments from my every day life? Am I getting better at telling the stories behind the photos (and not just posting something with very little captioning that doesn’t make sense to anyone but me)? Does my profile look colourful and is it something that would make me want to delve further if I wasn’t me?

I think I’m doing OK-ish, by my small fish standards, considering I started off with sometimes only 2 likes on my very first photos and now I can get dozen/s (I told you – small fish haha). There is definitely room for improvement and I know I am my own worst critic too.

One thing I noticed that my profile is missing is more photos of me! I know that when I scroll through someone’s Instagram account, I like to see the person behind the profile – it helps me to connect with their content. Makes me feel like I know them (even though I don’t – they could be serial killers for all I know – hahaha). As I am no longer a semi-anonymous blogger, I know that I need to start showing more of myself. Let the people who find me, get to know me better.

I don’t take many photos of my son (I made a decision early on in the piece to not fully reveal his face or identity publicly online) and my dogs only know a couple of poses: “THROW MY DAMN TOY” or “BLURRY AS F*CK”. My husband is a bit social media shy. I feel awkward asking to take pics of/with my friends for public consumption unless they are bloggers too. So that leaves me most of the time. I’ve got nobody else to fall back on ?

I also need to point out that I am concerned that I have a misshapen head and I do not have a reliable Instagram spouse (and admittedly I’m picky and I feel bad bossing someone around), nor fancy equipment to help me take consistently good selfies/photos of myself.

And even if I did, I would curl up and die of embarrassment if people saw me trying to get it right in fantastic public spaces, like all the really cool bloggers do. Because we all know it can take like 50 shots to get one good one (or at least that’s true for me and my misshapen head/face)!

*awkward too loud laugh*

Also, I hate the stigma attached to the ‘selfie’ phenomena. Sure, if you’re doing a Kim K and ignoring all of your life to get constant good shotz (yes I used the ‘z’ ironically) then you may deserve a little bit of an eye roll from everyone around you, but what if you just want a couple of nice shots to prove to yourself that you were actually out on a nice day or to capture your life because nobody else will? I get frightened of people laughing at me trying to get the right angle and making that embarrassing selfie face which usually doesn’t look anything like the person’s actual candid face.

It’s always a bloody relief when I find myself out with fellow iPhone photo obsessed peeps who don’t mind taking lots of pics of everything and understand when I want to as well!

Also, I know I’m getting a bit deep here, but I think I lack confidence and do not accept my face/head etc as they are. I want to get more body (‘face’?) positive.

Some of my favourite pics of my friends are the real ones. Where they haven’t given a shit and they’ve just gone for it and had fun. I want to be more like that.

Anyway, here’s a selfie I took at a wedding recently. I liked my make up that night and felt pretty – I’d put in a lot of effort and it was a big deal because I hadn’t been out in the real world for a little while. The lighting is bad because it was night time and the quality is bad because I used Snapchat, but I’m glad I took it.

I’m going to try to take more selfies and care less what other people think while I’m looking like a dickhead pointing a camera at myself.

Anyone got any great tips on iPhone camera settings/angles/best sides/tricking people into helping you??

Back to School anxiety: mine, not his.

It’s January. That time when it sinks in that the school holidays are not as long as you thought they were and you feel that downward slide back to reality. Another school year, filled with trying to remember stuff and being on time for drop offs and pick ups and SO MANY LUNCHES to be made.

I am looking forward to the Little Mister attending pre-primary full time. I imagine the first few weeks will be full of exhausted after school meltdowns, but I am excited to be able to spread my work hours out over the week more evenly and feel a lot more productive.

The thing is, I get anxious. Anxious that he will fit in and do OK compared to the other kids. Anxious that he’ll be anxious. Anxious that I will forget a whole lot of stuff or be totally awkward in the lead up to the first day back – book lists and the dreaded uniform shop visits (I swear I can never remember what hours or days they’re open).

I know it won’t be as bad as last year. Last year I was a wreck. The Little Mister was starting kindy at the same place I went to high school. I was having all kinds of flashbacks to my time there (nothing horrendous or obviously we wouldn’t send him there – just freak outs because I felt like I was still the student trying to be on my best behaviour and not get in trouble haha). I had never sent a kid to school before. I felt like I was still a kid. How was this happening?! Sure, we’d done day care a couple of days a week in 2015, but this was a big deal!

I had missed an orientation day because I screwed up the dates (and then my husband had unexpected surgery on his toe which would have meant we couldn’t make it anyway). I’d had a couple of false starts trying to get to the uniform shop (see – I messed up their opening hours then too haha). I hadn’t submitted my online booklist order on time, so had to send Mr Unprepared out to scramble for each individual item (which made me nervous because obviously if we got the wrong stuff we’d be outcasts forever haha). I was also feeling like a hot mess for a variety of reasons that had nothing to do with the the Little Mister’s schooling. I was not on top of things. I really was not. Even reading this paragraph back tells me that I was not in the running for “Mum of the Year”.

This year, I feel a little more settled. I know the school. I know the Little Mister has come a long way since the beginning of 2016. I’ve met a bunch of really nice school mums and I know I will meet a whole bunch more. I’ve got my shit sorted on a nice calendar now, which I keep updated. I have planned the final weeks of the school holidays so that I have everything done in time.

But still, I feel nervous. Of course I don’t show the Little Mister this and I really hope he can’t tell. He gets nervous enough on his own, truth be told.

I feel bummed that it’s not all holiday fun and games right now in my head anymore (even though that kid is driving me up the wall and ultimately I will be grateful to have dropped him off that first day haha).

I feel silly for being nervous and I feel like I’m wasting these precious last weeks worrying about school stuff when there’s still fun to be had. I’ve really got to get over myself! Just tick something off the list and then go have a blast, Kez. Seriously, woman!

Just like last year, we will survive this one too. I was struggling to get my head around a whole lot of stuff in 2016 (finally beginning treatment for infertility for one and in all honesty grief – grief that my little boy was starting school already and had no siblings that I’d always hoped to give him by the time he started kindy) and I think I should be kind to myself. It was a rough and scary year from beginning to end.

2017 may or may not be any better, but at least I will kind of know what to expect (probably jinxing myself right there).

Awesomely a little less unprepared, maybe?

Maybe one day, my heart won’t leap up into my throat when my child starts a new school year. Please tell me this gets easier! Lie to me if you have to!

Does anyone else get nervous like me? Am I …normal? Or a silly freak? 

 

Awkwardly Unprepared: Accidental FaceTime.

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Sometimes I do awkward things. I am always embarrassing myself. Just in really little ways. Like that one time you think nobody saw you drop food on yourself at a classy place but they totally did see. Or when you accidentally say, “Good thanks,” when someone says “Good morning!” Or when someone says, “Happy Birthday” to you on your birthday, and you say, “You too” even though it’s not their birthday. That kind of stuff.

Yesterday, I outdid myself.

I made an accidental FaceTime call.

No. I was not naked at the time, thank goodness. But it was awkward.

I was at a school carnival event for the Little Mister. I’d been watching him and his little classmates having an absolute ball inside a very cool bouncy castle. It was hilarious and I had the camera on my iPhone all ready to go for good photo opportunities. I had been trying to share the day with Mr Unprepared who hates missing these things for work.

At some point I glanced down at my phone and that little green tab at the top indicated that a call was in progress, but I had no idea who I had accidentally dialled. I thought logically, maybe my mum or Mr Unprepared. Either way, it didn’t really matter. I figured there was nothing I’d said or heard during that time that wouldn’t indicate an accidental call. In other words I figured I hadn’t embarrassed myself and could just hang up.

So I opened the call, only to see a blank screen (with my face in the upper corner) and OMFG it was a FACETIME call. I couldn’t immediately tell who I’d rung because I think the phone must have temporarily frozen. I was frantically tapping away at my screen, trying to figure out a) who I’d called and b) how to end it before anyone got embarrassed. I thought FML this person is seeing about 50 chins at this angle right now – this is not good!

There was absolutely no way to hang up for a few seconds (trust me – I tried every option short of smashing my phone with a rock), and then the receiver of my call’s face flashed up nice and big on my phone screen.

Guess who it was?

MY GYNO.

Yes. That guy. The one who has to get all up in my lady business quite regularly. The kind of professional person who you don’t just call on his mobile unless it’s really important.

That guy.

I was in shock and there were kids screaming everywhere. I couldn’t hear him and I was just staring back at him and I tried to say loudly, “I’M SORRY! I DIDN’T MEAN TO CALL YOU. MUST BE A WRONG NUMBER. BYEEEE!”

But I couldn’t tell if he could hear me! And he was still there trying to smile politely at me and figure out what the hell was happening! So what did I do? I tried to hang up! But as I tapped the screen in panic, the red hanging up symbol thingy wouldn’t appear! I was stuck in this call and he was still looking at me! And so just like anyone would do in that situation (and by anyone I mean nobody but me), I waved at him awkwardly.

I waved.

A few seconds later I ended the call. I looked around and I was relieved that the world was still spinning and nobody was aware of the incident. But slightly annoyed that I hadn’t been swallowed up into the depths of the school oval.

I really want to believe that my doctor will have forgotten that the incident happened before I see him next (probably in a couple of weeks damn it). REALLY WANT TO BELIEVE HE’S FORGOTTEN.

What are the odds, though? Of him forgetting, I mean?

But also what are the odds of his number being the one number I FaceTime dialled?? I hadn’t called or messaged his mobile in a long time and he wasn’t logically the first or even the 10th person I’d easily butt dial by default (not that I am a habitual butt dialler thank goodness). I mean, geez!

I think ANYONE ELSE in my contacts list – LITERALLY ANYONE ELSE – would have been less awkward.

Mr Unprepared said I should have just texted him right away after and said something along the lines of, “Oops! I accidentally dialled your number while at a school function for my son! Sorry for the confusion. Have a nice day!”

But I didn’t. Because mortified. And I regret not thinking faster – now it’s too late! God damn it.

Have you ever had an awkward phone moment? Texted the wrong person? FaceTimed someone inappropriately? Left an awkward message? I really need to know!

 

 

You can FIND MORE INEVITABLY awkward happenings on Snapchat

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Hey, Priceline lady. Let me live!

So, recently I decided that I really needed some brown eye liner. Something water proof, retractable (who has time for sharpening that shit). Something that would define my eyes in the day time, without being obvious if it smudged (because I’m always in a mad rush to get ready). Something that would look like I wasn’t really wearing eye make up, even though I totally am. Gotta keep up the illusion that I totally wake up like that, right? OK, so it’s not a very good illusion – not sure I convince anyone – but it makes me feel good, OK?

A while back I’d read that it was a nice way to soften the something something of the eye and bring out the colour in your…something. Look, I can’t remember. All I knew is that it seemed like a good idea.

I could be wrong, but I swear I’ve seen a lot of it in magazine photos and on TV dramas where the characters look flawless and have big, doe eyes – thanks to brown eye liner.

I figured it’s a pretty timeless staple, on account of its neutrality and the fact that the nudes are big in make up at the moment (everything from eye shadow to blush to lips etc etc).

But nope. A visit to my local Priceline told me I was wrong. WRONG!

I asked the girl where I could find a waterproof, brown eye liner. She raised her well styled brows and very black, very winged eyes at me.

“Oh, I don’t know. There’s probably not anything waterproof and brown. Brown eye liner is just not popular at the moment. It’s just not something anyone is buying.”

Um…BUT I WANT SOME.

“Oh, OK…” I replied, “I just wanted something subtle for the day time.”

I glanced at her very Kylie Jenner-esque layers of make up (I once watched a snapchat tutorial where she used 15 products to achieve a natural look) and felt like now we were accidentally appearing to be judging each other.

Awkward.

“It’s just not popular! At the moment!” she persisted.

Shhh, girl. Quit while you’re ahead. Shhhh.

Literally half a second later (i.e. as soon as she started looking), she located one.

“Oh!” she exclaimed in surprise, “Here’s one.”

Fancy that!

As I thanked her and walked away to pay for it, I could almost feel her telepathically still sending the impassioned plea “IT’S JUST NOT POPULAR” at my brain from behind. The poor girl. I hope she didn’t lose any sleep over it.

I’ve never been into blindly following what’s popular or not. I pick trends that suit my style and reject those that don’t. So I wasn’t really that fussed about its popularity and I wasn’t offended (much)!

I agree that black, winged eyes are huge at the moment too, but I just figured brown liner was one of those things that is just always there – the underrated but reliable product. Y’know?

Am I old and shamelessly out of touch? I mean, I was probably almost double the Priceline girl’s age…

I laughed at her youthful disregard for tact and wondered what else I don’t understand about make up and fashion.

Edited to add: I had the best moment of smugness less than a week later when Kylie Jenner spruiked her brown eye liner on Snapchat, calling it her ‘favourite’. I have a feeling that it’s going to sell VERY WELL ? Who would have thought I was so ahead of the curve after all??

What are your thoughts on brown eye liner? Have you ever been informed by a stranger that your choices are ‘just not popular’? Been surprised by fashion/trend developments? 

 

Follow me on Snapchat

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PSA: Not all ‘Asians’ look the same. You don’t know me!

So, I get recognised and remembered a lot. I know. You’re thinking I must be a big deal. People everywhere tell me they know me from somewhere.

“Oh,” I’ll say in an airy tone, “I get that all the time…”

But seriously. I do get it all the time.

And the reason is not that glamourous.

It’s because I’m…

ASIAN.

And a whole bunch of people seem to think ‘we’ all look the same. Yes. That.

I’m always probably related to someone. Or the SPITTING IMAGE of someone’s best friend (ahem – I think their Asian friend needs to get better friends who pay more attention to them). Or didn’t I come into the store the other day for that thing? Nope. Nope. Nope. Wasn’t me.

No. It was definitely you! You bought the thingy with the other thingies and we talked about stuff and things!  

Um. No it wasn’t. I didn’t do it. I have an alibi.

Pretty sure it was you. 

Nope.

Let’s agree to disagree. I’ll just stare at you like you’ve got it wrong until you feel uncomfortable and leave, OK? 

Um. OK.

Unless there’s some crazy doppelgänger of mine out there, I’d say it’s not just some crazy coincidence. Unlike that amazing Twinsters doco (you can find it on Netflix), which made me secretly fantasise that I did indeed have a twin I didn’t know about. How wild would that be???

Years ago, a mutual ‘friend’ confused me with another of my friends (who is also adopted from Korea but looks not much like me). We are still not impressed.

Did you know that Chinese people look different from Thai people, who look different from Japanese people, who look different from Indonesian people, who look different from Korean people (and that’s not even covering anywhere near all of the regions and countries)? Yes. That’s right. We are all different. And even then, our looks might not dictate our culture (as in my case as an adoptee). Also, just like ‘white/Western looking’ people, we are all as unique and as similar as anyone else – who would have thought.  ‘Asian’ is not a nationality, y’all!

I am not going to intimately understand the life of your Chinese sister in law. Or your Filipino aunty by marriage. Unless, you know, I’ve actually met them.

Yes, I am aware of the Gangnam Style dance, along with the rest of the Western world. No. I will not do it.

It can honestly be as simple as treating each person as an individual. Getting to know them. Seeing them for who they are (and listening when they tell us).  I think it’s simply ignorance that stops people from being able to get past the ‘they all look the same’ concept.

Expose yourselves to people of all different races and nationalities. Learn about all of the world’s cultures and show an interest in those who defy the stereotypes. Let people tell you about themselves and really listen. Your life will get way more awesome.

~ PSA Over ~

Peace out! ✌️

This video is seriously my life ?

20 things you probably didn’t need to know about me.

Hey, everybody. Hope you’ve all been enjoying your Easter time. We have! Lots of quality time with family and friends who are basically family. It’s been lovely!

Now it’s Easter Monday and I thought I’d have a go at this. I was tagged twice by lovely ladies on Instagram (one being the awesome Carly over at Ctrl+Alt+Mum – best blog name ever). I know it’s supposed to be an Instagram thing, but I am really shit at typing long things on my phone. I am just not patient enough. Which should be fact number one about me, which means I wasted one fact – just gave that one up for free. What a fool. So, anyway…here goes…

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1. My name is Kez and I am a carb-o-holic. It is probably the one single thing holding me back from being the skinny person I could probably be. I used to fight it. Now I have just accepted it. My main weakness? The humble (but spectacular) potato. I will eat it any way possible. I will feel like sh*t afterwards, but I will eat it anyway. I am terrible. Especially if I make potato salad. If I make potato salad, you are lucky you are getting any.

2. I like a good mojito. Enough said.

3. Most of my thoughts are about food (or cocktails). See above two facts. No joke. If we’re going somewhere, my first thought is not about the scenery or the company (sorry – love youse), but about what I will eat. Again: reason I am not skinny #35693.

4. I have a very real and valid concern that by the time I hit menopause, I will have a full blown lady moustache and sideburns. I am seriously considering getting pre-emptive permanent laser hair removal. This is not a joke. Sadly.

5. Sometimes when I’m in a change room and I get a bit stuck trying to remove an item of clothing (that isn’t mine), I temporarily freak out that I’ll have to live in it forever or that someone will have to come and physically cut it off me. I start imagining myself having to pay for it even though it doesn’t fit and how terrible that would be (and that’s the BEST case scenario). I was talking about it with a good friend yesterday and in between snort laughing, we agreed it’s totally a thing.

6. When I go to turn off the Little Mister’s bedside light after he’s fallen asleep at night, I stop and stare at him like a creeper and think creepy thoughts. Like, next time I want to bring my camera. And take photos of him asleep because he looks so beautiful and peaceful. And then I think that if anyone did that to me, I’d be a little disturbed. Mentally.

7. Sometimes when I’m alone I watch Hilary Duff movies. Or Dr Phil. How embarrassment.

8. I cycle on my exercise bike a million times faster when I listen to Can’t Hold Us by Macklemore. I dare you to listen to it and not want to move (or be in a ridiculously “Eff yeah! I’ve got this!” mood).

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9. I discovered sweet chilli and lime cream cheese dip the other day and I am not sure how I feel about it. It tastes like a lime cheesecake. On your savoury cracker/chip.

10. I am bad at maths. It’s not that I don’t try (most of the time). I just think my brain isn’t wired that way! Take that, Asian stereotypes.

11. I remember a lot of my dreams. Which makes me great fun to be around.

12. I love stand up comedy. The good, the bad, the awkward. I secretly wish I was brave enough to give it a crack. Taking me to a show is a quick way to get in my good books 🙂

13. I have a massive lady crush on Tina Fey and Amy Poehler. And while Baby Mama could be a much better movie, I still love it so much. Because Tina and Amy. TOGETHER.

14. Speaking of crushes, I have this weird crush on Mark Ruffalo. it’s not what I would have expected of myself, but there it is. Now you know.

15. I am slightly ambidextrous. Which makes sports hard. I take half an hour to remember which hand/foot I use for everything. This makes a casual game of backyard cricket a bit awkward. I DON’T KNOW WHICH HAND TO BOWL WITH. THIS IS VERY CONFUSING.

GET OFF THE PITCH, KEZ.

16. I sign up for too many email thingies. And then I do a big unsubscribing purge and then I subscribe for more, sometimes only hours later. I am doing this all wrong.

17. Once, a stoned guy thought I was Jackie Chan. I’m still laughing about it.

18. When I’m bored I bake. I don’t really eat much of it any more (too busy eating potatoes), but I love the process.

19. When Siri has helped me with something, I always thank her. It’s only polite. I may need more adult conversation in my life…

20. I used to play the guitar. I have a beautiful guitar, hardly used, sitting in my home office (aka future lady cave). I really need to get it back out and brush up on my skills. I want the Little Mister to be around music more. AND I would feel like I was cool again. Kind of.

So there you go. I am not so sure I have painted a very attractive image of myself. But at least I’m keeping it real, homie.

I am too lazy to tag 20 people, but this is really fun. So if you have a spare 20 facts, blog them and I will totally check them out 🙂

Or you could give me your top 5 in the comments? Go on!! x

DIY…or outsource it and then be all awkward.

This post has been inspired by Fat Mum Slim’s September Photo a Day challenge x

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About the photo: OK, so the prompt for today’s photo is DIY. I may have outsourced my DIY this morning, but that’s OK. Today some dudes came to install the Little Mister’s brand new roller blind for his almost finished big boy room. We have been waiting for this day for so long, because without a blind the Little Mister couldn’t move in! Now, just a couple of finishing touches and it’s gonna happen!! I’m so excited. He’s been thrilled with how his new room is coming along and has ‘helped’ every step of the way (except for painting – gotta draw a line so to speak haha). He loves it in there and I have to say, I love it too. It’s fresh and bright, with a loose tropical beach theme. I can’t wait to see him grow with it. No more baby nursery, he’s a BIG BOY.

I just don’t know what to do with myself.

Today’s blind installation was pretty quick and pain free (apart from there being a flaw in the blind which will be fixed in time thanks to good customer service), but I have this weird thing where I freak out a little bit when people come to do jobs at our house. Seriously. It’s like I forget how to human. I get all, “There are strangers in my house…I don’t know what to do with myself!”

I get all awkward. Like, do I offer them snacks or drinks? Do I make small talk or just leave them alone? Do I keep doing my normal activities? Do I look busy enough? Not busy enough? Do they even care (probably not)? I over think everything.

Last time someone came over to do a job I deliberately left the dishes and some other household chores undone so I could busy myself with them while the guys installed the air conditioner – even though I could have got them done easily before they arrived. Told you. I have no idea what to do with myself.

It was worse BC (Before Child). I would have often taken a day off to oversee a job. Without a Little Mister to be busy with, I’d want to just sit and watch TV or waste time on the internet, but I’d feel all weird and guilty or worry that they thought I was a slob. Especially if I sat within their line of sight!

I know it’s so stupid. I mean, these guys (it’s never been a woman but I hope over time this might change – that’d be SO cool) have way better things to do than to judge me and the rational Kez knows this. Still. I never said I was rational haha.

I mean, if I was working in someone else’s home, I’d just be focused on the job and after doing similar jobs in so many places for a while, I’d probably not really notice anything. I’d probably be so jealous of the person who was watching TV the whole time and be happy for them that they had a day off. I’d probably not mind a lack of conversation if the home owner was busy and just be glad to have the ability to focus on my job, as long as they were nice and let me use the loo. I wouldn’t be all, “So, we went to this one house and the b*tch wouldn’t even give me a biscuit.”

Again. I know I’m irrational haha.

I think it’s more about the fact that they’re strangers and I’ve let them in my home. Most of them (except for some rat bastard fencing guys a few years back) have been pretty good people – absolutely awesome in fact.

I know I should just be myself. Hello – it’s MY house and I’m paying them to provide ME with a service. I can be a nice customer who they will remember (after working in customer service I know how that can make someone’s day), just like I want them to be good workers who I will remember (and maybe even refer to my friends or use for future jobs).

Although…today, I fumbled over my words, trying to be nice. So there’s that. Awkward ALWAYS. My awkwardness in my own home knows no bounds. Out of my home? I’m (generally on a good day) a superstar. Just today I charmed a couple of lovely Relay for Life raffle sale volunteers. Had a laugh in the check out with a nice lady who was in front of me. Shared some hilarious toddler-related small talk with a dude in the salad section. I don’t know. It’s all too weird. I’m too weird.

Please tell me. Am I the only one who does this??? Are you awesome with strangers doing work in/on your home? Got any advice? Do you do work in other peoples’ homes for a living? What do you like in a customer?? Leave a comment! x

Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!

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Oh, that poor child. Listen to him yelling out in pain! His mother (or father depending on who draws the short straw on any given day) must be too rough with him. He’s only small. Poor thing. IS SOMEONE MURDERING A SMALL CHILD IN THE SHOPPING CENTRE/CAFÈ/SWIMMING POOL/CAR PARK?

No, that’s just the sound of a toddler who likes to yell “OW OW OW OW!” whenever he feels like it. Sometimes when he is being told to do something he doesn’t want to do, sometimes when he wants to do something he isn’t allowed to do, but also sometimes just because the mood strikes at some random moment. Any time, anywhere.

Turns out my two year old has a flair for the performing arts. I see Academy Awards and Logies somewhere in his future.

Best “OW” Actor.

Favourite “OW” Talent.

I’ve become better at distinguishing the difference between a blatant attempt to manipulate me into paying him special attention or to distract me from a task at hand, and real ‘ow’s, but I just know that sooner or later, he’s going to howl at me and I’m going to get all “boy who cried wolf” on him and tell him to stop shouting and that it’s nothing…when it’s something. It’s only a matter of time until I get the guilts because I missed something, right? Place your bets now, people.

Until then, I’ll be the “mean” lady who is telling off her child (or even worse – laughing) despite the fact that he is so obviously in “pain” and his wails are clearly a sign of hurt and discomfort. I’ll be that person you don’t mean to stare at, but surely I must be a horrible parent you need to keep an eye on – just in case (unless you also have a dramatic two year old in which case you will simply sigh and be relieved it’s not you this time).You can find me at any public venue where it is least convenient. Don’t worry about missing out on this spectacular performance – we will be making repeat appearances at a place near you. Check back for tour dates.

All good, nothing to see here! 😉

Has your child ever embarrassed you in public? What did they do or say? x

Do you remember me?

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I hope everyone’s enjoying the holiday season – here’s a blog post I found in my drafts folder from January 2013 (about a year ago). I decided to publish it today x

You can file this post under ‘stuff I bet you didn’t know about Kez’…unless you’ve known me since forever and then I just want to give you a big hug for ‘getting’ me 😉

I have this thing. I don’t want to go as far as to call it a complex or a neurosis (even if that’s what it is, can we not call it that?), but it does affect my life occasionally (but persistently). You see, I have a reeeeallly good long term memory. I remember faces and/or names, events, conversations and almost everything else reeeeallly well – forever. As you can imagine, this makes me very popular with my husband hahaha. Anyway, because of this very average super power I don’t expect other people to remember as much as I do. In fact, sometimes I kind of feel like a loser for being able to recount everything that’s ever happened in the history of me knowing someone (even if I only met them a couple of times). Like people will think I’m the biggest stalker/weirdo in the history of people. I don’t want to be that person who strikes up an awkward street conversation with, “Oh hey, remember that time on the 5th July, 2008 when you were eating the spaghetti at that cafe and I had the green salad because I was trying to be good, and we were talking about the price of fish and you were wearing that dress with the green and blue stripes, but I was wearing shorts and a singlet with the picture of the sunset on it…” while the other person is all like, WHOA. WHOA. WHAT ELSE HAVE YOU CATALOGUED ABOUT ME IN YOUR CRAZY BRAIN, YOU CRAZY LADY?!

So of course, I dial a lot back. I’m not completely socially clueless.

Also? I am ashamed to say that I have it in my head that I must definitely look different to how I looked the last time someone saw me, so they may not recognise me. Which is bonkers, because sometimes I think that even when I saw a person every day at work for years of my life, or it was like a month ago or something.

I don’t expect anyone to ever remember me. I mean, also, I’m Asian. People keep telling me we all look the same. The amount of times I get asked if I’m *insert name of any other random Asian person here*, or *Asian person*’s sister. I don’t want to confuse people.

Geez!

So basically it’s like I believe I’m in some sort of witness protection program where they change the witness’s identity and facial features and they must live a totally different life to the one they lived before.

Every time I see someone I used to know (or an acquaintance), I do that thing where I agonise over whether to go and say hello. Will they even know who I am? How awkward might the conversation be? I’m not even drunk!

Just the other day, a former work colleague approached me. He double checked it was me in a very respectful manner and he really put himself out there, considering we didn’t interact a massive amount while working for the same organisation (I was only there on and off over the period of one year). I applaud him, by the way. It felt really nice to be remembered and maybe I need to try harder to be just as brave.

Also, please know that if it feels like someone you know/remember appears to ignore you or not notice you…perhaps they aren’t trying to be rude. Perhaps you haven’t done anything wrong or annoyed them in any way. Perhaps you are really memorable and special. Maybe that person is just one big old chicken and they’re trying to work on it.

So now you know that about me, what can you share about yourselves?

I hope you won’t think less of me.

Look. I have a confession. I know it will probably change the way you think of me forever, but I just have to come clean. I’ve tried to make it right many times throughout my adult life, but it just hasn’t come together as I’d hoped.

I DON’T LIKE CURRY.

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Yep. I’ll let that sink in. I don’t like curry. I don’t like the flavour and I don’t like it when it’s really spicy. Even if it’s kind of mild, I will be all like, “WTF? This is MILD? Yeah. Right. More like BURNS ME HOT.”

I don’t like red curry, yellow curry, green curry or any other coloured curry of the rainbow.

Lord knows I’ve tried. I’ve tried so hard. If everyone wants Indian, I’ll try really hard to attempt it. Except for the odd occasion where I stand my ground (I’m not perfect). People tell me, “Oh just try the mild ones.”

NO. NO. NO. It’s the FLAVOUR I can’t get on board with. The hotness is just a side issue, dammit!

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Everyone I know loves a good curry. Wanna know what else is strange? I LOVE the smell of a Thai green or red curry. LOVE IT. Sometimes I even fool myself into thinking it will be OK, but alas, some of that stuff gets in my mouth region and I am reminded yet again that I am not a real human being. Real human beings like curry. What’s with that? I think there’s something wrong there. I mean, usually the inviting aroma of something means it will taste good. I need like a curry doctor to get all up in my brain and figure out why my nostrils are leading me astray. Is it the coconut milk? IS IT?!

I liked my parents’ way of dealing with meal times when I was a kid. There was no special treatment. You didn’t get a separate meal for a bit of whinging. I admire that.

…Except for when curry was on the night’s menu. I would beg them, “Please have mercy on me!”

Even the mild curries would hurt my soul. The flavour just seemed like some kind of weird herby dirt to me. And I don’t want to tell you what it looked like to me.

So, for every rule there was an exception. One night I broke down into melodramatic tears and gave the most impassioned speech of my life.

“Please, Mum. Please, Dad. When I eat curry – even the mild ones – it hurts. It burns my tongue and my throat! I would understand if it was just a flavour thing, but it hurts me too. It hurts me. Food shouldn’t hurt you! You don’t want me to hurt, do you? By giving me curry, you are knowingly causing me PAIN! PLEASE! SHOW SOME COMPASSION!”

From then on, they would save a bit of meat from the pan and serve it plain with some rice. It was the most boring, bland and not-vibrant-at-all meal you could ever imagine. I think they were hoping the blah-ness of it would make me rethink my decision. But it was better than curry.

As an adult, I have attempted to taste most curries. Even if it’s just a couple of spoonfuls of Indian takeaway with my family. I feel that as a really lame but committed and hungry foodie, it’s my responsibility to know what most foods of the world taste like and not be a whiny little b*tch about what everyone else wants to eat (except for super weird sh*t like animal testicles and eyes and stuff). I still can’t love it. I wish I could be one of the curry loving cool kids. I feel like a picky freak. WHAT’S MY PROBLEM?

I really hope the Little Mister grows up to like it. His social life will be so much easier and he won’t dread that line, “So, I was thinking there’s this new awesome Indian place – we should eat there tonight!” while everyone in a crowd nods excitedly until he has no choice but to go along with sadness in his heart.

Although, not all is lost. Luckily, in that situation, I have a secret weapon.

I f*cking love naan bread. Cheesy, garlicky, herby, fattening naan bread. Bring it. ALL OF IT.

What foods do you dislike? Ever tried really hard to like something everyone else likes, just to make life easier?