Out and About

Trapped in a Lift

January 3, 2011

The other day I went to a fashion event in the city. I parked my car in a multi-story car park, and made my way to the event. It was a lot of fun!

5 hours later, it was almost midnight.

Usually at the end of the evening, I try to get someone to walk me to my car. It’s fairly safe to walk through the city at night, but I like to live carefuly. I usually ask a friend, or a friend of a friend to walk with me. It’s a pretty common practise, and it’s no trouble to anyone really.

But this evening, the multi-story car park was literally just around the corner from the event. So I decided to walk back to the car by myself.

There were a few people out and about the streets at that time. Some young party-goers. A couple in their mid-fifties. Three scruffy backpackers.

I made my way to the car park, paid my parking fees and stepped into the lift.

I pressed the 6 button, to take me to the 6th floor.

The lift doors closed. Then it made that little jolt to move upwards.

Up, up, up.

1st floor. 2nd floor.

Up, up.

3rd floor. 4th floor.

Then it stopped.

I assumed that somebody pressed the button on the 5th floor, the door was going to open, and the person was going to walk in.

But the door didn’t open.

And the little computer screen on the lift wall went BLANK.

I thought – Hmm, what does this mean?

I waited a few more seconds.

I looked around the lift space, to see if there was a security camera. Maybe this was a joke? Maybe someone was watching this? Maybe the car park people were a little bored tonight and they wanted to SEE MY REACTION.

I casually leaned towards the button panel and pressed 6 again, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Nothing happened.

OK. So I then casually pressed “DOOR OPEN”.

Nothing happened.

I pressed “GROUND FLOOR”

Nothing happened.

Then “5” and “4” and “3” and “2” and “1” and “6” again.

Then I stepped back and sighed.

Can this really be happening?

Am I really stuck in a lift?

No way.

I pressed DOOR OPEN DOOR OPEN DOOR OPEN DOOR OPEN DOOR OPEN because I COULDN’T POSSIBLY BE STUCK IN A LIFT!

I was suddenly very, very aware of the space around me. The very LITTLE SPACE AROUND ME… and I started to sweat and feel a little closed in.

I was surrounded by silvery walls. Not mirrors. Just metallic panels, that reflected my silhouette in a smokey kind of way…I was alone, and it was a bit spooky.

Eeeeeek!

In my brain, I shouted HELLOOOOOOO in a tragic forlorn kind of way, and the walls seemed to echo back at me HELLO HELLOO HELLOO HELLOO.

My brain started to whiz around and I started to freak out.

OK I’M TRAPPED IN THIS LIFT. THIS IS NOT GOOD. THINK KAREN. THINK KAREN.

THIS IS NOT A MOVIE. I AM NOT GOING TO SUFFOCATE. I AM NOT GOING TO DIE. THE LIFT CABLES ARE NOT GOING TO SNAP AND HURTLE ME 5 FLOORS TO MY DEATH.

And at that moment I noticed the BIG RED EMERGENCY BUTTON on the lift panel.

But I hesitated.

Is this really an emergency? What’s going to happen if I press it? Will alarm bells ring? Will the lights go out? Will I be launched into emergency red alert? Will I still have oxygen supply?

So I chickened out and decided to press the TELEPHONE BUTTON instead.

But nothing happened.

Okokok. Fine. I’ll press the EMERGENCY BUTTON.

Still nothing happened!

I felt helpless.

Crap.

Then.

I heard this little tiny voice coming from the walls.

I kid you not. It sounded like there was SOMEONE HIDING IN THE WALL. It was freaky, yet comforting.

But I couldn’t make out what the voice was saying.

It was so soft and far away.

Was it real? Was I imagining it?

Where were the speakers?

Where was the microphone? How do I talk back to this voice?

So I just shouted into the air, like I was talking to myself. Or God.

WHAT? HELLO! I’M STUCK! I CAN’T HEAR YOU PROPERLY!

The small voice said “What’s going on?”

THE LIFT IS STUCK!

“Where are you?”

I’M HERE! IN THE FRICKING LIFT!

“Can you open the door?”

NO I CANNOT OPEN THE DOOR!

“Have you tried pressing the Door Open button?”

YES. I. HAVE. I said in the most condescending tone ever. I got angry. Does he think I’m an idiot? I felt like punching the guy in the nose. He’s playing a trick on me!

Then the voice went quite. And I thought. Oh no, hang on. Wait wait wait. Don’t go! Don’t leave me here! I didn’t mean to be rude! I’m so sorry! Help! Hello?

I slapped myself on the head and thought, I can’t believe this is happening.

Was that voice real? Did I really hear a voice?

I’m standing here talking an imaginary voice in the walls, or in my head.

Then after the longest few seconds of my life, the little voice came back and said simply,

“Press number 8”

I almost jumped for joy at the sound of his voice. The voice was real!

HELLO! YES I’M STILL HERE! I STILL NEED YOUR HELP!

But then I registered what he said and I hesitated.

Why number 8? What’s on level 8? I don’t want to go to level 8. Is this guy messing with me? Is he watching all this? Is this a joke? What the hell’s going on? Should I ask him Why 8? Should I explain to him that I actually want to go to level 6? Or should I just do what he says?

After another few long seconds. I thought, Oh what the hell, I’ll just do what he says.

So I pressed level 8.

And miraculously the lift hummed to life!

It gave a little jolt, like it woke up, and it started to go up.

I WAS FRICKING ECSTATIC! OH THANK YOU MY WONDERFUL LIFT! YOU’RE SUCH A GOOD LIFT! A MOST EXCELLENT LIFT! YOU CAN DO IT! JUST A LITTLE MORE! GO GO LITTLE LIFT!

It reached Level 8, and the doors opened.

OMG I’M ALIVE! I’M SAVED! I WILL BE ABLE TO GO HOME TO SEE MY HUSBAND AND KIDS!

Cold air swept in as the doors came apart. I literally LEAPED out of the lift. But I remembered the voice, so I quickly turned around, stuck my head into the lift and shouted THANK YOU!

And then I quickly pulled my head OUT OF THE DOORWAY, in case it got caught between the doors.

Phew. Adventure over.

The lift seemed to be working now, but I was so rattled that I decided to walk – in high heels – down the two sets of stairs to my car parked on Level 6.

Man I was happy to get out of there.

It’s pretty much every person’s nightmare.

But I must say, it could have been worse.

I could have been trapped for a long time. Or with OTHER PEOPLE who were smelly. Or with a serial killer. Now that would have been really bad. And at least I didn’t need to pee!

So, remember.

If you are ever stuck in a lift – just press “8”.

Pizza Making and The Streets of Bangkok

November 11, 2010

I was invited to attend a marketing event for a new pizza franchise – called Crust – which has recently opened in the Subiaco district of my home town of Perth.

It was a chance to see the Head Chef of the franchise make pizza.

I often cook pizza at home, and I was quite keen to see how it is done professionally. But of course, I was also expecting to pig out on a lot of free gourmet pizza. I couldn’t lose.

So I rocked up, and was pretty impressed with the pizza bar. Brand new, excellent interior design, a giant kitchen behind glass. Maybe 50 different ingredients all waiting to be made into gourmet pizza while you wait. There was a crew of highly trained pizza technicians in identical uniforms, ready to leap into action, like a Formula One pit crew. All good!

I met the marketing person, Carrie, and then met the other guests.

Which is when I had the first of several shocks.

First, I discovered that I was in the company of several other bloggers – but I was the only one who was NOT a food blogger.

I mention this because, while I enjoy experimenting with recipes at home, my audience is my kids and my husband, who don’t have the most demanding of culinary needs. But food bloggers are critics with the passion of religious extremists. I love food, but for these guys, food is their WHOLE life.

I was waaaaay out of my depth in this company. The foodies were Conor, Lori, Carven and Devan.

Second shock of the evening – I was ridiculously over dressed for the occasion. When I was getting ready to go out, I must have sub-consciously thought I was going to a fashion event. So, instead of looking street-chic smart-casual, I looked like I had gotten lost on the way to a cocktail party in an expensive bar. Damn!

So there I was, in a pizza bar – a really new, shiny one, but a pizza bar nonetheless, with hungry food bloggers who were wearing jeans and sneakers, and I was in high heels and too much make-up. So I had even less credibility now. Great.

The bloggers sat down, and Peter the Head Chef explained to us all the cool things about the way “Crust” do pizza.

As he made the pizzas, including the dough, he explained how they have to put the toppings on in an exact certain way to stop the pizzas messing up the ovens, how the topping (if there are more than three) have to go on in a certain pattern to stop them mushing up, how the cheese has to be tactically deployed for structural stability, how they have gluten free pizzas, and how they have several pizzas so healthy that they have the National Heart Foundation “tick of approval”. They even have square pizzas, and deep dish pizzas. Very interesting!

And then my third shock of the evening came.

Peter divided the bloggers into teams of two, and each team was going to have to invent a pizza (including naming it) and then one of the team members would actually make the pizza – in the fully operating pizza bar! Right here. Right NOW!

Bah. I just wanted to EAT pizza. I cook at home everyday. I go out so I can get SOMEONE ELSE TO COOK FOR ME!

I was paired with Devan. There were 3 other bloggers in the room, all of whom were experts in food and cooking, and none of whom were wearing high heels. So poor guy, just his luck, he got me as his buddy.

We got to work, with 10 minutes to brainstorm our concept for a unique pizza.

We both love Thai food – and Devan is half Thai – so we decide to capture the essence of Thai culinary culture on a single pizza. But we wanted to put a creative spin on it, and instead of going with stereotypical Thai foods (like tom yum and pad thai), we went more for street Thai flavours. And so we called the pizza “The Streets of Bangkok”. I loved the name!

Behold the amazing creative chemistry between Devan and I. Poor guy!

So despite the awesome pizza name, it all went down hill after that.

Devan “suggested” that I be the chef. And I agreed.

But inside I was thinking OMG what have I got myself into! I am SO NOT dressed to make pizza! I can’t cook with a TIME LIMIT, in an industrial kitchen, in full view of the PUBLIC!! CRAP!

I put on a brave face and off we went, assembling our competing pizzas as best we could.

As we worked, I kept looking over at the other blogger’s pizzas, and they looked great.

The foodies seemed completely un-intimidated by the hovering presence of Head Chef Peter. But I just kept thinking that my shoes alone contravened a million health and safety rules, and I kept flicking my big hair around my head to try and keep it out of the pizza. I could have taken out someone’s eye with it. Head Chef Peter must have thought I was such a ditz.

Do these gloves go with my outfit?

I did my best, but “The Streets of Bangkok” looked more like “Little Lumps of Dog Poo in the Streets of Bangkok, with Vegetable Scraps Thrown on Top”.

Apparently I was being too stingy with the cheese.

Peter tried to help me with some advice, but I still wasn’t getting it right, so then he just sort of (politely) pushed me out of the way, and did it himself. I don’t blame him. I was not worthy of his kitchen.

Fortunately, the time came for the three pizza creations to go into the oven.

When they came out, this one was judged by the pizza bar staff to be the best.

A visual delight, with subtle hints of seafood, and named “Paella”. Just what you would expect food bloggers to come up with. To my great relief, nobody mentioned “The Streets of Bangkok” ever again, and Devan and I avoided eye contact for the rest of the evening. (Only kidding!)

With the winner chosen, we were finally treated to an orgy of pizzas made by the staff at Crust. And it was sooooooo goooooood! Happy Karen! (and I even had coffee with the food bloggers later, and they were all really nice people.)

I won’t need to eat again this month.

My review of the pizza? I liked it a lot. Good value for first rate gourmet pizza.

Crust is on 502 Hay Street in Subiaco, just down from the Regal theatre, towards the train station.

Stella McCartney for Target – The Launch

October 4, 2010

Hey everyone! I’m in Sydney right now – which is on the other side of Australia, 5 hours flying time away from my home town of Perth.

Target Australia and Nuffnang have flown me here to be part of the noise and excitement about the announcement of their latest “Designers for Target” collaboration.

And I want to be transparent about all this. Yes, I am being sponsored to write honestly about my experience of the launch and clothes.

And yes, while being put up in a 5 star hotel overlooking Sydney Harbour is very nice, I always have a nervous uncertainty about these things. Deep down, I was praying to the high heavens that the collection would have *at least* something nice in it – that I liked – so I could write something relatively nice about it! Because, if it didn’t, I guess I’d have to say so.

Designer collaborations are certainly not a new thing. It is where a department store with a reputation for high turnover and affordable goods, produces a range of clothes created by a high profile international designer – but still at a very affordable price.

Of course, what Target gets is a boost to their profile, the designer gets introduced to a whole new audience, and the customer gets realistic-priced access to New York-London-Paris-Milan catwalk-level designer clothes. And fashion is so much more fun if you get to wear it. It’s a win-win-win situation for everyone.

In the past, the Designers for Target have included, among others, Stella McCartney, Josh Goot, Collette Dinnigan and perhaps my personal favorite, Yeo Jin Bae.

The Launch

Part of the business of marketing fashion is building suspense and glamour, and so it has been with this announcement.

I had to agree to fly to Sydney without even knowing who the designer was.

The whole thing was SO SECRET that I didn’t know if it was going to be a party, a press conference, or a fashion show. I didn’t know if it was going to be at the Sydney Opera House, or at a local Target store in the suburbs. Or even what time of day it was.

And I don’t like surprises (unless they involve chocolate). How was I supposed to plan what I was going to wear!?

But I am really interested in how fashion designers and marketers work, and how they translate the sense of exclusivity and cost that is part and parcel of the vibe of high-end fashion, into a range that can work for a much wider audience. And I have been pretty impressed with the designers who have collaborated with Target in the past.

So… I flew to Sydney, to be surprised.

And I attended a most amazingly lavish affair!

We travelled – by boat – to a gorgeous mansion perched along Point Piper, one of the the most expensive and exclusive area in Sydney.

This was the view as we approached the venue from the water.

Rumour has it that the house is the second most expensive house in Australia. I don’t know how true that is, but apparently the house is frequently hired used by celebrities like Bono and Hugh Jackman. The house has like 15 bedrooms, so I didn’t get a chance to check all of them for rock or movie stars who might have been left behind.

We stepped up onto the private jetty, walked along a small boardwalk, and were ushered into a pretty pool house where we were greeted by Target’s General Manager.

As the event unfolded, we chatted to various people, TV celebrities, media types and fashion industry people, while being served incredible looking food, and sipping champagne while the sun set over Sydney Harbour. It was just lovely.

Rather than a catwalk show, there were models frolicking around in cute little settings – sitting on deck chairs by the pool, having a tea party, playing garden chess – all wearing pieces of the new designer collection.

It was easy to be impressed. Target certainly know how to throw a party and media event. The settings were so well decorated and lit. The sound, music, ambiance, food, drinks, wait staff – everything was very well produced.

And the fashion?

Well, Target announced that their latest Designer Collection is by Stella McCartney! Yes again!

Three years ago Target and Stella released a winter collection. This time around we are looking at a Spring/Summer collection, with 42 items in total, including several accessories, priced from $20 – $199. Yes, new Stella McCartney for twenty bucks!

What’s exciting about Stella coming back to do another collaboration with Target is that her previous experience is probably going to make this range work even better – they have apparently taken special care with their sizing, fabrics and cuts. This will presumably translate into better fits for those of us who are not actual fashion models.

Although Target were putting a VERY glamorous spin on the clothes with the lavish setting and food, the clothes always speak for themselves.

I am glad to say there were lots of pieces that caught my eye – sheer lace tops in French blue, sexy slim blazers in white and black, a gorgeous silky shirt with tie, and slim tailored trousers. All that I would happily received into my wardrobe.

They all seemed to be stylish, easy-to-wear pieces, great for mixing-and-matching, as well as a few stand-out designs. It was all good.

In fact, it was so good that I found myself telling the the General Manager of Target how I would love to do a more in-depth feature of the collection with a more realistic and practical product review of the clothes for my readers (in which I get to wear the clothes myself). He thought it was a fabulous idea, so stay tuned for my next post about it!

If you’re keen to see the whole Stella McCartney for Target range, check it out at the Designers for Target website.

The collection will be on sale in stores 29 October.

Shopping Stella Competition

Target has also announced that they will be running a competition leading up to the actual in-store launch.

The winner of the competition will receive a $1500 Gift Card AND special shopping access to the collection before it goes on sale to the general public. There will be TWO winners per state, and winners will be able to each take a friend.

So head on over to the Shopping Stella Competition, fill in your details and good luck!

That’s all I’ve got time for right now. I’ve got to finish up, and then fly back home to my family!

Vodka and Caffeine

September 14, 2010

The other evening I went to a special event held at Bar 399 to promote Silvana Coffee.

It was a media “mingling” event – lots of marketing people, journalists and bloggers packed into a small, warm bar on a cold winter’s night with live music, great food, booze and coffee. It was a very cool, cosy atmosphere.

Naturally, the theme was cocktails made with Silvana Coffee.

And this is where it got dangerous.

Two barmen were putting on this fabulous show of making various kinds of cocktails. It was very impressive to see them spinning bottles and setting things on fire. The drinks were stacking up on the bar, free for anyone to have. And they looked amazing (the drinks that is, although the barmen were quite ok too).

So I picked up an espresso martini.

I chatted with the bar men, and as a wannabe foodie, I was really interested to know what goes into such a creation. After teasing me that the ingredients were a closely guarded corporate secret, they did actually tell me.

And I would love to tell you what they told me. But I can’t remember.

You see, I gave up drinking coffee years ago, and I have never been able to drink more than a few sips of alcohol in my whole life. When I get drunk, I don’t even get to “bad behaviour”. I just start vomiting.

So about 30 seconds after I started sipping an amazing espresso martini, both the caffeine and the alcohol slammed into my unprepared brain.

Alcohol sloooooow doooooown, and caffeine ACCELERATION – at the same time!

And it was GREAT! Suddenly, I didn’t care about taking photos anymore. I didn’t care about what I said, or who I spoke to, or anything! I was just very giggly and buzzy.

These pictures of me in a blissful state of neurological confusion were taken by fellow blogger Matt, of the excellent and serious food blog Abstract Gourmet. His photos of me are very sharp, but don’t be fooled, inside, I was totally out of focus.

Luckily, I had taken my favourite accessory along – my husband – and as a one time very experienced drinker, he saw the warning signs. He confiscated my drink, and gave me food and water instead.

Thus, my little walk-on-the-wild-side only lasted for an hour or so, and I was none the worse by the end of a pleasant evening.

I shall have to be more careful next time.

But DAMN the cocktails tasted GOOOOOD!

The Paper Panties Day Spa Experience

September 7, 2010

For my birthday, I was given a gift voucher for a spa experience.

Specifically, it was for a Full Body De-Stress Massage and Facial Treatment.

Did you hear that? A FULL BODY MASSAGE!

I was so excited! I’ve never had a professional FULL BODY massage before!

SOMEBODY is going to rub warm oil all over my body and do away with all the stress and tension in my muscles. And maybe if I’m lucky, this person will be a tall, black guy, rippling with muscles and with big strong hands… haha ok, I’m just kidding (I’m sure I’d have to pay a LOT more for that kind of massage).

My experience promised 2 WHOLE hours of full body pampering, a delicious lunch, dessert and tea, so I should have been looking forward to it all week!

However.

I know I am not that great when it comes to “having time out during the day”.

I guess you could say, I don’t have a very sympathetic attitude towards rewarding myself, when I have a zillion things to do. My 2 big children are at school for 6 hours, so I have to cram in as many tasks as possible into that time!

So with driving time, baby sitting drop-off and pick-up, the spa experience itself, the whole event will take about 4 HOURS. Not to mention the other 1 HOUR needed to make lunch for my toddler, pack a day pack, get him ready, get myself ready… so REALLY this spa thing will take up the entire day – which irritates the hell out of me, because I’ll get NOTHING ELSE DONE WHILE THE KIDS ARE AT SCHOOL.

So much for trying to “DE-STRESS”. Way to go Karen.

I tried very hard – all week – to psyche myself up for a lovely break.

I’M HAVING A MASSAGE! A $200 MASSAGE! IT WILL BE BLISS! I’M GOING TO FEEL GREAT!

On the morning of the spa experience, of course, my kids were ratty at me, and my toddler was a bit sick – and even though I know how to handle grumpy and sick children, it still threw me off a bit.

I AM GOING TO HAVE A LOVELY STRESS-FREE DAY TODAY DO YOU HEAR?!?

And of course, my period arrived that morning.

GEE! GREAT!

I rushed around all morning – dropping the kids off at school, making my toddler have a nap, making lunch for him, driving to my Mum’s house, settling Liam in. And as I ran out Mum’s door, I was already 15 minutes late.

OH WELL. IT’S NOT LIKE I’M LATE FOR ANYTHING IMPORTANT. YOU KNOW, IT’S NOT LIKE I’M LATE FOR LUNCH WITH THE QUEEN. OR HAVING A MULTIMILLION DOLLAR CLIENT MEETING.

I’M HAVING A DE-STRESSING MASSAGE FOR GOD’S SAKE, JUST CHILL OUT KAREN.

I finally arrived at the day spa. And it was gorgeous! It was an old federation hotel with tall ceilings and wooden floors, converted into a lush, sophisticated modern lounge thing.

The atmosphere was perfect – catering just for women – warm and inviting, lovely leather lounge chairs, flowers, magazines, fresh lighting, gorgeous wall papers… it was really nice and it appealed to all my female “princess” receptors.

I sat on a large, warm lounge chair. I filled out a form and chose from the menu.

But I was still a bit frazzled from the lateness of my arrival. So I zoomed through the list of questionnaire questions.

JUST HURRY UP KAREN! I WANT TO DE-STRESS NOW! (Ironic isn’t it?)

I was led upstairs – more lovely wallpaper, carpets, paintings and tall ceilings – and I met my therapist, who was a SHE. She was not tall and dark. Nor did she have big hands. So, a small handed, short woman who was kind of pinky-white.

I suspect my disappointment showed, and I was quick to remind myself that she was probably a very nice person.

WHAT WAS I REALLY EXPECTING!?

She led me into a treatment room, which was surprisingly bare.

There was a bed, sink, cupboard, a table full of bottles and bowls and a lamp. That was it! The walls and ceiling were completely white, and the floor was covered with a grey stone-look laminate.

WTF? It was weird. It suddenly felt like a jail cell! Or some kind of surgery room. In fact, I have given birth in rooms more comfortably furnished than this.

I was totally freaking out, because everything in the room said “Surgical Procedures Happen Here”!

Did I get the right day spa? Is this EVEN A DAY SPA?

ARE THEY GOING TO KNOCK ME OUT AND STEAL MY ORGANS???

She told me that she was going to wait outside, while I was to strip down and put my clothes in the cupboard.

Then she pointed to something folded up on the bed – a disposable paper g-string. She said I could wear it if I liked, and left me alone.

And suddenly all my fears were gone. Ah, this MUST be a day spa. They don’t make people wear semi-transparent paper g-strings for surgery.

Behold the eew-ness.

No. It is not pretty. It looks like a surgical mask. Or a broken tea bag.

Phew. Drama over. The sight of it made me chuckle, and I finally calmed down.

How many of you can say that TODAY A PAIR OF PINK PAPER PANTIES GAVE ME THE CONFIDENCE TO TAKE OFF ALL MY CLOTHES FOR A COMPLETE STRANGER.

I opted to stay in my own undies. And instead, I popped the paper ones into my handbag, to take home and surprise my husband later on – “Hey honey, does my bum look big in THIS?”

So I took my clothes off.

I lay down and put my face through the special hole in the bed.

I started to think….I feel like I’m a teenager again, throwing up after a party, with my head permanently stuck to the side of a toilet bowl.

The short, small handed, pinky-white woman came back in, and the massage began.

During the massage, I really couldn’t stop my brain talking to me.

It was chatting away to me, about the colour of the floor, the shoes the therapist was wearing, the kind of castor wheels on the bed, the new camera lens I bought, what I was going to eat for lunch.

I could not CHILL OUT AND DE-STRESS!

Overall, the massage was OK. Just ok. She massaged my whole body – my legs, back, arms, abs, head, neck, shoulders – and I have no doubt that she was technically excellent. But when it ended… I was like, was that it?

Gosh, that was really over-rated.

You know, I believe my husband seriously gives better massages than this.

I didn’t feel electrified or energized. I didn’t feel alive and buzzing. I wanted to be zippy and fresh and ecstatic. But I wasn’t!

I was thinking – gee, I would have much rather gone for a cycle. Or had a workout at the gym. Or an aerobics class. Or a run. I feel REALLY good after those things! In fact, I feel AMAZING after doing those things.

I just felt oily, bloated, sloppy and lazy. Oh dear.

Next was the facial, and halfway through it… I realised I made a terrible mistake.

In my stressed haste, I had circled the “I HAVE OILY SKIN” box in the questionnaire. When in fact, this past year, I have had unusually dry skin.

And I realised this, just as the therapist scrubbed my face back and stripped every complex molecule of oil off my face.

The facial ended and my face felt so DRRRYYYYY. And it was my fault, of course.

As I put my clothes back on, I felt like I had been given a face lift. My skin was soooo dry and soooo tight, that if I were to smile, my face would crackle and fall off like one big, dry corn flake.

Down stairs, in the lounge, I tried to enjoy my lunch, but I was so distracted by the dryness of my face.

And then I looked at my watch, and realised that because I arrived late, the massage had gone over time, and it was 30 minutes AFTER the time I said I would pick up my toddler. Which means I might be late to pick up my kids from school.

So I wolfed down my lunch, cake and ice cream, I slammed down my tea – and literally ran out the door, shouting THANKS FOR THE GREAT TIME to the receptionist. It was very abrupt and very unclassy, but hey, I was REALLY late.

What was even funnier, was that, as I was sitting at a red light, in the car, my face was SO FREAKING DRY, that I reached into my glove box, pulled out some very old hand cream, and rubbed a huge dollop on my face. I may as well have used chicken fat, because that’s how thick and greasy the stuff was.

So I turned up at the school yard late, wearing no make-up, with my face shining with chicken fat, and all my friends were like – HEY HOW WAS THE MASSAGE AND FACIAL??

Over all, the day spa was just fine, it wasn’t their fault. It just wasn’t a magic solution to stress, and I was stressed before I arrived.

My advice: day spas are a nice escape from real life, if you have the money, and you have the time to actually relaaaaaax!

But if you actually want to relax by having a good time, buy yourself a bottle of $15 massage oil and find someone you like to rub it all over you.

Preferably somebody tall, dark and handsome.

Kayaking

July 19, 2010

For nearly 2 years, I have been hankering to go kayaking in the river.

You see, I live near the river. And every time I drive or cycle past it, I look over – and see people paddling their kayaks on the still blue water – and I find myself filled with a strong sense of desire and envy.

I guess I just never got around to it! Mainly because I’ve been bogged down with the BUSYNESS OF LIFE. As you do.

So for my birthday, my husband organised a surprise kayaking day for me (rather, us). OMG you should have seen the BIG BIG smile on my face and the twinkle in my eyes when he told me 15 minutes before we walked out the door.

We borrowed our neighbour’s 2 person kayak and 4WD (thanks Irwin!), found a spot on the river to start, plotted a course and set off!

It was SPECTACULAR. It was an incredible day for kayaking.

The water was still, like a pond. The air was crisp. The scenery was beautiful. Ahh it was so so so cool. Definitely one of the best, most peaceful and tranquil experiences of my life.

Gliding along the mirror-like surface. Slicing through the water. Seeing my ripples ebb as far as my eyes could see. It was magic.

At some parts of the river, it was SO QUIET and SO STILL, that it all felt a bit odd. Eerie and creepy, perhaps.

You know. It was like a horror movie. The scenery goes quite. The sun suddenly feels hotter, the insects stop buzzing, the fish stop splashing, a crow flies overhead going AAAAAKKKKKK. And I was just waiting for something large and green to slowly appear from the water.

I actually said to my husband, “Uh, there are no crocodiles here in Perth right?”

Anyway, while we were paddling, the water exploded a few metres away from our kayak. I thought someone dropped a large rock into the water. But emerging from the splash, flew an osprey. It was like watching a nature documentary – and seeing the water droplets roll off the feathers in slow motion. The osprey flew off carrying a fish in its claws. It was SO CLOSE to us, and a very cool moment.

But even cooler, was 10 minutes later, we paddled past a tree, and saw the same osprey perched on a branch eating the fish. We paddled slowly and quietly towards it, and took some awesome photos.

Overall, we kayaked for 2 glorious hours.

The paddling itself was pretty hard work. Especially since I’ve never done it before. It was quite a workout for my abs, arms and legs. But my body felt so good. And it was so refreshing for my soul.

I really, really loved it.

And now I hope that one day I’ll have my own kayak and go paddling on the river at dawn. And at night.

The Colour Purple, Sexual Frustration, Rock Royalty and Breast Cancer

November 16, 2009

I couple of weeks ago I was invited to a Melbourne Cup Charity Event to celebrate the Spring Racing Carnival. It was a lunch on behalf of one of my favourite local charities, the Breast Cancer Foundation of WA.

I’m here pictured with the founder of BCFWA, Ros Worthington, and the Marketing Manager of BCFWA, Vanessa Bradshaw. I had such a lovely time!

Purple is the signature colour for the BCFWA. It just so happens that I love wearing the colour purple, and in my wardrobe I have 5 purple dresses! I have often been told that purple is the colour people wear when they are feeling sexually frustrated. Another theory I have heard is that purple is the colour that glam rock stars wear as a sign of their status.

Well, I am glad to say that I don’t fit into either of those categories. I like purple because I think it is so confident a colour. It stands out like red, but without the “look at me” factor, and it is so womanly in a way that pink is just too girly to be. So purple is the perfect colour to raise awarness of an important cause.

I decided to wear with this shoulder dress from Fashion Junkee, because it was more appropriate for a cocktail/day event.

It is quite traditional to wear a hat or a head piece with your outfit to the Melbourne Cup – and this year I saw so many amazing designs, some serious, and some frivolous.

I believe each year the head pieces are becoming more fashion forward and edgier. It’s very cool to sit and watch all the variations go by.

However, for me, spending $150 for a feathery hat that I will only wear once a year, and probably will end up in my children’s craft box, is not my kinda thing.

So I just wore a silk flower clip which I could happily wear to a wedding or some other function.

Shoes and sequin clutch from Betts, necklace by Kelly McIntyre.

(Oh, and a horse won the race, which we watched on TV. As you can tell, horse races are not really my thing.)

My Interview with Lance Armstrong

January 21, 2009

Lance Armstrong and Karen Cheng

When I agreed to interview Lance Armstrong, I wanted to advise his Lance Armstrong Foundation of a few things.

Firstly, I’m not a professional journalist. Also, neither I nor my readers are particularly interested in the technicalities of cycling or professional racing! But I am very interested in doing something about cancer awareness.

Basically, I wanted to ask Lance questions that were from the heart – issues that were perhaps a bit more thought provoking regarding cancer, personal strength, fundraising, and cancer awareness.

Lance Armstrong is one of the world’s most successful cycling champions, who has used his fame to create LIVESTRONG – a movement to raise funds and awareness for cancer research. It has an incredible online resource for people who are dealing with cancer and its effects – both for the actual person who has it, but also for the people who love them.

When I finally met Lance, it was late in the afternoon. He had spent the morning riding up and down several nearby mountains as training for the big race in a few days. He was very relaxed, and radiated a very charismatic energy. We chatted about Adelaide, the hills, Perth, being pregnant, and he seemed really nice and easy-going. And then I asked my questions.

Karen: You’ve been quoted as saying that you would never have won the Tour De France if you hadn’t had cancer. Can you say why that is? Was it just that winning a bike race (even the toughest one in the world) seems easy compared to beating cancer?

Lance: It doesn’t have to be cancer, it could be anything devastating that reminds you of the fragility of life, the fragility of your career, and of your potential.

I had a decent perspective on my sport before, but after the diagnosis and the treatment, I realised that cycling was truly special to me personally, so I redoubled, recommitted myself back to cycling in a much different way than I did before.

Karen: Your media persona makes you seem like a very tough, direct, forceful guy, and winning the Tour de France so many times tells us you have a lot of self-discipline. But what was your lowest emotional moment with cancer. And how did you get out of it?

Lance: The lowest moment…hmm…yeh, that’s a good question. It would be hard to compete, in terms of the lows, with the actual diagnosis, because that was such a surprise. This fear rushes in, and uncertainty rushes in, and the immediate thought or question is “am I going to die?”. That’s a natural reaction.

After that, I kept getting more and more bad news, but it didn’t compare to the initial diagnosis. The way you deal with that, at least I did, and I think most people do, is through friends and family, this strong support structure that ultimately lift you up.

But also, I put a lot of faith in my doctors and nurses. I realised I was going to find the best doctor in the world, and the best medical team in the world, and we were going to throw everything at this disease, and if it didn’t work out…it wasn’t meant to be.

Karen: At what point did you realise you were going to do something as big about cancer as LIVESTRONG. Was there a single moment where you realised you should, and could?

Lance: No, this all started around a little table in a restaurant, just talking to friends, thinking we should do something to raise a little bit of money. LIVESTRONG wasn’t even in existence at that time, it was just the Lance Armstrong Foundation. LIVESTRONG came about in 2003/2004.

Karen: It must be a huge undertaking, organisationally, to get something a big as your foundation and LIVESTRONG rolling. How do you start something like that?

Lance: The same way we got through the low points of the cancer itself. Friends and family and myself sat around and said “we gotta do something”.

So the very same people who helped me through the tough times, the low points of the diagnosis and treatment, were the same ones who were there to start the foundation.

Karen: I know that cancer research is enormously complicated, and expensive, so fundraising is very important. I also know that most people feel like there is nothing they can do about cancer, because the size of the problem is so big.

What proportion of funds raised by your foundation comes from small donations like 5 and 10 dollars, as opposed to big benefactors? How important is it for ordinary people to give a little?

Lance: A lot, a lot. I would say that the bulk of the money we have raised, going way back to the beginning, is from small amounts. If you go way back to the beginning, and consider that we have raised more than 300 million dollars, the biggest single component of that was from the sale of the yellow wrist bands, which was 60 or 70 million dollars, which is a lot of money. But all of that was people spending one dollar for a yellow wrist band.

So 70 million people gave us a buck. They said – “here you go, here’s a dollar.” So that built a brand, and a movement.

There is a lot of five dollar, ten dollar, and even twenty two dollars and thirty six cents kind of donations, which to me is really cool, I rather have a lot of that, because that represents a movement, an army of people, whereas if you had ten rich people giving you a bunch of money, you couldn’t say that you speak for an entire constituency of people.

Karen: I get really discouraged when I get hate mail – and it happened to me right after my first little fundraiser for the Red Cross. How do you deal with the detractors who question your motives, especially when you have such a public persona?

Lance: Anyone who is in the public eye who has a measure of success will have detractors, will have naysayers, will have non-believers, will have haters. And that has been amplified now, in the current generation, because there is so much output in terms of the media, like magazines, blogs, message boards. Anybody who goes onto a message board and reads about themselves is going to go crazy.

I told someone the other day, I thought that Tina Faye summed it up best when she accepted her award at the Golden Globes, she said “For all of you out there who are just starting to feel good about yourself, there is this little thing out there called the Internet.” And then she listed off the names of people who’ve said bad things about her on the net, and then at the end of it all, she thanked her husband.

At the end of the day, it helps to ignore it, but also if you want to, you could also say some mean things back. (laughs)

Karen: An obvious possibility with having cancer is that it might come back. I know my husband gets very tense while waiting for the results of every blood test. How do you deal with the fear of recurrence?

Lance: I think that fades over time. My big ones were one month, two months, three months, every month in that first year. One year was a big deal, two years was a big deal, and then five years was just a huge deal. And really, I don’t think that much about it, so when I go in for my annual check-up twelve years later, I don’t know, maybe it’s a bad thing, I don’t get that nervous.

But in the first year, or two years, I was just a ball of nerves. I think that’s totally normal.

Karen: My husband has had testicular cancer twice, and he says it was a very different emotional experience second time around. How do you think you will deal with it differently if your cancer comes back?

Lance: Oh my god, I can’t even imagine. Hopefuly that won’t even happen, but it certainly can.

It’s hard to say. It’s like if you’re totally healthy and someone says how would you deal with that the first time, you can’t respond to that.

I know that just like before, we would work hard to find the best options, go into it with the best attitude, and throw everything at it. It would be different now, because I have kids.

The first time, I was a twenty five year old kid, and if I left, the only one who would be really sad was my Mom, but it’s a lot different now. I don’t even like to think about it.

Karen: Twenty years from now, would you rather be famous for being the world’s greatest bike athlete, or for creating LIVESTRONG?

Lance: Even today, I’d rather be known as the founder of LIVESTRONG, and so obviously, 10, 20, 30, 40, 50 years from now, till we don’t need to do it anymore, the same would apply. If I could pick what goes on my tombstone, LIVESTRONG would be higher than athlete.

Karen: It’s safe to say that your story, both in sport and with cancer, has inspired lots of people. But who inspires you?

Lance: My Mom. She’s always been a hero in life, and a hero in the example she set for me. She’s a tough woman who believed in a certain set of things when she was young, and had an incredible work ethic and drive and motivation. Even today, she 55 years old, and still a young lady, and we are very, very close and great friends.

…

We ended my interview, and then it was his turn to ask me questions.

I told him my husband’s story, how it affected me and our family. And shared some thoughts about cancer awareness in Australia, and what Australians can do to spread awareness of cancer and help activate communities.

Overall, I was really impressed with Lance’s answers, and the way he answered them. Directly, strongly, confidently, with real interest and passion.

I was struck by how similar his views on his cancer are to my husband’s, and how he freely admits, like my husband, that it was his family and friends who got him through his cancer.

A few days after meeting Lance, I had lots of thoughts. I feel that my own plans to do something to raise awareness of the need for improved cancer prevention and treatment are probably not ambitious enough!

After all, Lance Armstrong is just one person, and although he has had a lot of help, he has been the one individual who was the focus of it all. So one person can make a huge difference! I’m inspired!

Pasar Malam and Crazy Foodies

October 20, 2008

The other evening, my husband and I took the kids to check out a pasar malam, which is Malay for “night markets”. It was a huge event at Curtin University, hosted by the International Students Committee for Multicultural Week.

The place was packed! I didn’t realise there were so many international students in Perth!

There were more than 40 stalls, all selling pasam malam favourites – satays, fishballs on a stick, nasi lemak, curry and roti, endless varieties of noodles and rice. As well as favourite Asian style drinks like chendol, rose milk, coconut juice and soya bean milk. I was in Asian food heaven!

Walking through the crowd, there were queues and queues and queues for all the stalls. It was unbelievable. It was like there was this frantic hunger in the air. The smells seemed to have turned everyone crazy, struck by a hysterical need to HAVE FOOD.

I think the most popular stall for the evening sold “Seafood on a Stick!”. I wiggled my way to the front of the stall, stood up on a block and took some snaps of the sizzling seafood. All the while, I was going a little crazy myself, with my mouth watering and an overwhelming temptation to reach out and nab a stick.

I thought my kids would be interested to see such a funny spectacle – a huge crowd of people gathering just for the love of food. But my kids got quite grumpy. They were surrounded by the smell of food, and all they could see were legs and shoes.

In the end, we didn’t buy any food, because the queues were so long. I admire people who have the patience to queue. That’s dedication to your food!

For me, having two grumpy and hungry children dangling off my arms, was enough for me to turn to my husband and say, “Let’s just grab some pizza on the way home.”

Designer Cakes Fit for a Queen

October 16, 2008

The other day I was invited to a VIP Cake and Cocktail Party, hosted by Julia and her cake decorating company Cupid’s Delight.

They were launching their latest range of couture cakes in their showroom, and unveiling their most spectacular cake yet.

I had no idea what to expect. I knew nothing about the cake industry – but I loved Julia’s story.

She was an accountant, who discovered she had a passion for cake decorating. After that she decided to start a cake decorating business, and now has a gorgeous collection of cakes, a team of cake decorators and a flair for getting a lot of media attention!

I really enjoyed looking at all her cakes! It ignited a crazy dream I once had – to be a cake decorator myself. It looks like such fun. Like scrapbooking, but with icing.

I was told that the cakes on display were actually display cakes, so on the inside, the cakes are made of foam – which, for some reason, made me chuckle.

With security guards dotted around the showroom, media photographers, a TV crew, and a room full of very well-dressed guests, there was definitely something in the air.

It was unveiled that Julia had broken the Guinness World Record for making “The Most Valuable Cake in the World” valued at AUD$3 million dollars.

It was very exquisite! It had loose diamonds set into the sides and edges, pink diamonds, sapphires and pearls. See the photo above of me and the world’s most expensive cake.

I was also told that it was now available for sale!

Out and About

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