The Waiting Game.

EDITOR’S NOTE: I’VE GOT INSPIRATION! YAY!

So here I am sitting around, waiting and waiting and hoping, that soon, everything will fall into place and I’ll be getting up and going and that here’s to my new life. A new beginning. A new start.

Its amazing how there can be 365 days in a year and yet, they seem to go by faster than I can actually count. They just seem to whiz by pretty quickly nowadays, leaving me grasping for empty calendar dates and actually wondering where has all the time gone. Is it part and parcel of the fact that I am now grown up and I am supposed to be a responsible *snicker* and intellectual *HAH!* adult? Perhaps.

I”m actually still waiting for that alter ego of mine to show up at my front step.

I’m currently stuck in the antartic circles of Dunners, where I am bumming around at home awaiting my work permit in Singapore to go through. Supposedly, its summer. And when you say summer, you imagine white fluffy bundles of clouds, a clear blue sky, sunshine and lots of it, ice cream, singlets and shorts and sandals and beaches and a lot of relaxing in the sun. Right?

So does anyone care to explain to me why I was dressed up like the above picture not too long ago? And the excuse that I came from up north doesn’t quite cut it. Anyone? Oh yeah. That’s right. I’m in the antartic circles of Dunners. Palm. Meet forehead. Forehead. Palm. *smack*

One thing I can definitely and will always complain about is the cold. I remembered writing a similar post when I was down here last year. I complained about how the cold seemed to seep into the bones, way past layers and layers of clothing. And the fact that I’ve willingly stayed in Dunners for 2 months out of my own voluntary effort is amazing enough.

I spent Christmas down here with the family. And admittedly, it felt a bit odd to go to church again although I must say that because of the fact that I was in a traditional church service, I grew to really appreciate the choir. Funny considering I once CONDUCTED a choir myself and sang bass.

This was my room when I was up in Wangas. And this will probably be the neatest that you’ll ever see the room. This was taken at 6a.m. as I dragged my luggage out of the room and turned to gaze fondly at this room that I called home for 2 years. I knew every inch of it. Where I’d throw my jacket. My computer as it sat on the desk. My magazines. My wardrobe. Or should I say, floor-drobe. My tailsuit that hung on the hook on the wall. Ever ready for the next ball. The next formal white-tie event.

Ah, but now, we say goodbye.

And eating too much for my own good. And loving every single moment of it.

This was my very first visit to a burger joint in New Zealand known as Velvet Burger. They serve quite ridiculously priced but incredibly beautifully juicy burgers. Amazing? Definitely. Worth the price? Well. I’ve gotta really want burgers if I want to justify the price to my anorexic wallet.

So what else have I been up to down in the cold south apart from getting up to mischief as is per normal?

I attended graduations. And shook hands and hugged and congratulated friends who had FINALLY completed their final year of study and were heading out into the real world to start the awesome world of 7a.m. wake ups and lunch breaks and office politics. Ah, but pardon me, I’m being sarcastic and cynical all over again. Honestly, it was great to see friends of mine who had disappeared when I graduated and to finally see them, fully grown men and women (funnily enough, I can’t quite see them as adults until they’ve graduated.)

  A token, a little momento for me to keep dancing. Although I disagree with the fact that nobody’s watching. My dancing usually improves tenfold when I know that I’ve caught someone’s eye.

I think I did mention eating too much previously. And this heart attack of a meal is wayy worth every single clogged artery when I turn 40.

Called the “Regular Guy” at the one and only famous Lone Star, this was a 350g sirloin done to my liking with a mushroom sauce, crispy oven baked potato wedges and their famous coleslaw.

And I surprised myself by ordering dessert. Oh yeah.

This was a Moro chocolate cheesecake or something else of that lovely description. Incredibly rich. And if the cream was sweetened, I couldn’t taste any of it due to the cream cheese and the dripped, sticky chocolate on top.

The brother, who has become a bit of a Jamie Oliver this year, decided to make this for me one night after dinner. Termed rum-infused chocolate banana split, there’s the usual banana split in two, covered in rum infused cream, chocolate sauce, almonds, cocoa powder, and what looks like beans. I’m sure it ain’t beans. And as lovely as this looked, it was good but a tad too alcoholic for me. But then again, I’m well known for knocking off after one bourbon and coke.

And I saw off the new year in Dunedin. Deja-vu much of 2008? Very much so. The fireworks were quieter this time round for some reason. But oh well. It did what it was supposed to do and I wrote the FIRST blog post of 2011 at 2 in the morning.

  And I took this picture just because it cracked me up. This is at a church close by to where I currently stay and if you just kind of glanced past at the sign, you’d think it said something else.

And for those who really want to get this joke…think dirty. Very dirty. But if you don’t, I’m not gonna penalise you for it either.

But I think I’ve got enough inspiration to blog successfully again. Good morning, world!