The week that was...

Wow. What a week. I think I had the best easter break...eva!

By best, I mean a relaxing break, visiting with friends and eating lots of yummy food like chocolate rabbits and chocolate eggs.

I've also discovered that my bathroom scales are broken because, quite simply, I could not have gained two kilos over a weekend.

I had an extra day off on Wednesday...my birthday. I'm now 35 (otherwise known as, 'five years until I am 40'). To celebrate, I went to the dentist to have my 6 month check up and get my teeth cleaned.

Met up with Nathan for dinner at my favourite chinese restaurant and ordered way too much food. At the end of the meal, my conversation with the waitress went something like this (translated from cantonese):

Me: I am really full.
Waitress: Of course you are.

I think she was implying that Nathan and I were pigs for ordering the double boiled chicken soup with wontons, a whole fried baby chicken (it was so cute), AND the braised pork knuckle.

The week of excessive feast continued into last night. Instead of staying home and watching the Royal wedding (Nathan was so terribly disappointed he missed out), we met up with some friends for dinner at a lebanese place in Carlton, where we ordered the impressive banquet, and I was able to demonstrate my infamous chicken wing trick (chicken wing goes into mouth; 14 seconds later, bones come out...no fingers or dining utensils necessary).

Sunday lunch

Mmm...lamb shanks.

Warrnambool

I have very fond memories of passing through the seaside city of Warrnambool as a child. It was in the top three of my favourite coastal towns/cities (the other two being Albany in WA and Bicheno in Tassie).

Last Thursday, I took the day off and dragged Nathan on a train trip to re-experience the city. Warrnambool is still a very nice place, but somehow not as quaint as I had remembered it. I guess it's a sign of getting old and sentimental when the memory of a place is better than the actual place itself.

Manstyle

A few weeks ago, Nate, my friend Pt and I went to see the NGV's Man Style exhibition, where I learnt a few useful tips.

Style tip one: wear clothes that accentuate your best assets.


Style tip two: You can never over-accessorize.


Style tip 3: Flares are so last century.


Style tip 4: tie = understated elegance.

On the bus

Getting a seat on the crowded bus after work (especially on a friday) is one of those rare treats. Yesterday, I had the opportunity to claim the last remaining seat on the bus. The problem was the little old lady sitting on the isle seat who refused to move her crinkly little arse so that others might be able to get through.

I asked her politely if I could sit down, expecting her to shuffle along. Instead, she moved her legs half-heartedly motioning me to get past. And so I did. But before I could actually sit down, she pushed me into the seat.

Grumpy old lady: "How tall are you?".
Me: "Six foot four."
GOL: "Ah."
Me (trying to make conversation): "These seats are awfully narrow".
GOL: "Yes, well. Especially for people like you. You're obviously not a dancer."

The easter rush

Tried to book in to see the dentist for a routine check up. Seems like they are fully booked until after Easter. Made me wonder if people are preparing their teeth for the onslaught of easter chocolates.

Toilet stop

I had to...er, um...make a toilet stop on my way to work yesterday. I got off the train at Flinders Street station and headed straight across the road to Federation Square and the Ian Potter Centre. It was a little bit of a detour but there was no way in hell I'd go to the Flinders Street station toilets – no matter how urgent the call of nature.

Honesty is the best policy

I do wish people were upfront with how they feel. It can avoid all sorts of angst later on. Case in point....it seems I might have annoyed one of my research collaborators inadvertently by putting in some photos into a manuscript we had been working on. When I told her my plans. She replied back with the comment that she 'thinks' only line drawings were permitted. I took that as her uncertainty about the rules rather than her way of telling me that she (a) did not want them in the MS and (b) that she was 100% certain that photos were not permitted. Now she tells me that she is feeling awkward and I've had to send a very apologetic email to placate the situation. Sigh.

Culture Sunday

Nathan and I went to the footy on Sunday. My friend Phil reckons I am turning into a Melburnian. I told him I was going for the meat pie. Sure, it's just a regular four-and-twenty pie but it has somehow become a tradition for me. AFL game = excuse for pie with sauce. Nathan had two jam doughnuts (he is more the sweet tooth).

Promiscuity

Why are we monogamous? Some evolutionary psychologists believe that humans are, by our very nature, promiscuous animals. According to such claims, the size of our testes and the length of our penises, are believed to be adaptive in sperm competition (the phenomenon that arises whenever the sperm of different males compete to fertilise the female's eggs). Our penises, for example, are the largest of the great apes, both in absolute terms and relative to body size (the poor gorilla, at 3cm, has the smallest).

The topic of monogamy came up during brunch yesterday with friends (at the appropriately named "Cheeky Monkey" Cafe). We were discussing extra-marital affairs (biologists would call these 'extra-pair copulations' or EPCs for short) and whether or not it is acceptable (and under what circumstances it would be so).

One of our female friends was the victim of a cheating husband. According to her husband, it had only happened once and he was so wrought with guilt that he confessed everything to his wife. After some marriage counselling, all now seems to be well. In the case of our friend, the husband actually engaged in an EPC with another man. Our friend is certainly not alone.

I once met an elderly gay man who told me about his 'closeted' past as a married man with a wife and two kids. I guess he was half out the closet for most of his marriage. His wife knew about his indiscretions (with other men) and the kids only found out when he eventually left his family for one of his lovers.

Of course, both of my examples involve men being unfaithful to their wives with other men but even without the homosexual element, it DOES seems to be common for males to be the ones seeking the EPCs. That's not to say that women are more inclined to mate monogamously but let's keep the focus on men because I wonder if this is the reason why gay men are often so promiscuous even when they are in a stable relationship. I was telling my friends at brunch about this gay couple I knew who were married and in an open relationship. Why go through the trouble of marriage if one is to engage in sanctioned EPCs? Before getting to the answer, our conversation had already moved onto another topic (whether it is OK for friends to kiss each other on the lips).

I was at an art gallery this afternoon checking out an exhibition. The gallery owner has a two year old kid who was running around like a child possessed. I don't know what the etiquette is about telling off other people's children for misbehaving but figured it probably wouldn't be a good idea, given how much the gallery owner was praising her child. So...when the kid started to pull apart one of the sculptures in the gallery, I pretended not to notice. The gallery owner eventually saw what was happening and ran over to pick up the child (who was proudly displaying the torn off fragments to his mum). There was no smack. No scolding. She simply took the child to her office. Meanwhile, the gallery manager rushes over to the sculpture and lets out a gasp (the kind of gasp that only a gay man can pull off...very theatrical). He quickly picks up the fragments and discreetly brings them back to his desk (no doubt to try to glue back later...after all, the sculpture had already been sold – for quite princely sum too).