Done: High Tea, Australian Style

Done: High Tea, Australian Style

-“Nikita Vorobiev makes my dreams come true”

There, you can quote me.

I’ll try not to turn this post into a cheese-fest, but you know how sometimes people surprise you.

Nik is a great guy, in my eyes he is the best of ze best, and discovering that, despite that clueless stare he gives me when I'm talking, he is actually listening is: Priceless.

Where is Waldo? uhm, Adriana...

Hello everybody, I’m not dead yet, in fact, I’m very much living life right now. For some, life is jumping out of airplanes, and for others, life is eating great food and dancing. The way I live life is being constantly surprised by how things happen and waiting for the next big thing to come along. To think that we take many things for granted, this trip has been amazing and the official “fun” part hasn’t even started.

Right now Nik and I are about to “go away”, yeah, even more away than we already were. We are getting ready for the Ozfest, starring Mr.Vorobiev and myself.
We already left our Valley home, so, no more sending flowers to the 2 Berwick Street, you hear me? It’s costing me a fortune to forward my mail.

Done: Try mountain climbing

Brisbane is a city for people who like to move, those like me that would rather read books and visit galleries are encouraged to move to Melbourne. That is an exaggeration off course; however it’s true that people in Brisbane like physical activity. Several people in my office run marathons an actually finish them, other swim and surf while others rock climb. The good thing about this city is that you can do all of that for free, all you need is your equipment.

A good friend of ours, Lucas, had been inviting us to rock climb for weeks, so on a Wednesday night, we decided to go ahead and try it. We went to the Kangaroo Point Cliffs, which are 20 metre cliffs on the riverside. Gorgeous location, some people were already going up, some were drinking by the river, I was a bit intimidated.

Done: Top off.

The cool thing about travelling is that sometimes you are confronted to new things, new people and new situations. Even old people in new situations surprise you. I discovered that when Nik and I went to Noosa National Park a couple of weeks ago.

When we were planning our trip, I noticed in the Park guide it read that Alexandria Bay, the longest inside the park, was a nudist beach. I seriously thought it was a typo and I mentioned it to Nik with a big laugh.

Now, I’m going to out Nik, and this won’t surprise anyone, but he is comfortable in his own skin and when I said nudist beach, he wasn’t thinking about his tummy or private parts like I would have been, he was thinking about not having to wear shorts and getting much needed sun on his pasty white ass. He said we had to go.

Done: Become Famous

Don't lie to me! I know it’s on your list as well. Who doesn't want to be famous for something?

I, for example, wanted to be famous for something like, being a great actress, a girl with a voice that would melt rocks or as the pretty girl in high school.

Well, none of that seemed possible, as in most cases you actually need to be a good actress, be able to carry a tune or be pleasant to the eye and although I don't lack other virtues, I'm sure not going to participate in any Hollywood musical about beautiful people any time soon.

So how did I become famous you ask, well, the secret is to aim low and I mean, super low.

Done: Wearing shorts

When I was a kid, shorts were my favourite thing to wear. They were comfy, practical and on a 5 year old, absolutely adorable.

But then puberty hits, and you realize people are actually looking at your legs.

Skirts were unacceptable to me until I turned 16. However, they were usually on the long side, and I'm alright with that, I'm still not comfortable a hundred percent, but I always regretted not wearing shorts. I might have worn them once or twice against my will; for phys. ed. or at the beach (don't get me started on bikinis) but it is such a great thing to wear.

In progress: Swiming

I have issues with swimming, I don't know, I just never really liked it.

There are many things about swimming I actively dislike. First of all, I have to wear a bathing suit, no explanation needed. Second, nowhere have I found warm water to swim in, and I even consider the Costa Rican sea to be cold, so going into a pool has never seemed fun per see, I just know I'm going to be cold. Third, I feel like I'm going to frigging die!

Update: Australia

Hi, I know I have not posted anything in more than a month, but most of you know that I'm in Australia. I've been having trouble updating stuff and posting, right now I'm trying to create a travel blog but this just doesn't seem to pan out, ugly combination of shit internet connection with, well, a shit laptop. I'll try to do my best.
Meanwhile, you can see my pics on Picasa. Here is the link http://picasaweb.google.com/adriana.quesada2

To Do: Play Golf

Continuing with my obsession with things I now nothing about, I want to talk about playing golf.

I honestly never cared about golf, I think all I know about golf is that Tiger Woods is the best and Mark Weir is Canadian, that you wear preppy clothes and that some private clubs are awfully expensive.

Last year, people at my office got an invitation for a corporate golf tournament. My coworkers at the time (two awesome chicks) were quite excited, they had been practicing their "swing" and were really looking forward to this event, then I heard the guys were also participating, and suddenly I felt a little looser-ish.

To Do: Learn to dance Tecktonik

Electronic Dance, Vertigo or most commonly known as Tecktonik, is a dance created in Belgium that mixes styles such as popping, locking and tecno.
But Adriana, you may ask, if you say you dislike elecronic music, why do you want to learn Tecktonik? Well, the aswer is rather simple, it looks fun and all the cool kids are doing it. Off course, all those cool kids are probably under 20, but who am I to judge?
It is a dance with many qualities. First, you wear mohawks! second, up to a certain point, anyone could dace tecktonik, one just throws their arms in the air, like you just don't care.

To Do: Go to an After Hour or a Rave

I'm not a big fan of electronic music. On my Ipod I don't think I have nothing else than rock, Latin-Cuban music, oldies and the odd folk or country song. Throw in a dash of Pop if you want. I work out to The Killers and I have no interest whatsoever in drugs, so why do I want to go to an after hour?


You will realize in this blog that the latest trend in my life is to follow. I still won't follow you do anything illegal, so don't ask. I mean, follow in the sense of discovering what other people around me enjoy.

To Do: Read The Canadian Press Stylebook and Caps and Spelling book

I need to get around to read the" Canadian Press Stylebook" and its companion "Caps and Spelling". Those are one of those books I feel so proud to have on my personal library, along with "The Bible" and the "Complete Guide to Getting it On".

I bought them for my journalism class, they were the most expensive books I ever bought at around 100$ for both. They are supposed to be your guide, your reference. By the end of the semester, people expect these books to look like a they had lived a rough life, to at least bear a coffee stain or two, you know, to show you care.

To Do : High Tea, British style.

Since I posted the list of things I wanted to do before I’m 30. I thought I ought to explain a couple of them, before my friends started questioning my sanity.

I have an obsession with high tea, the way the British used to do. I giggle when people mention the word “crumpet” and I squeal in my head every time I see a scone. When I pass by in front of pastry shops and the tea department of my local supermarket my brain is wired to display images of pink paisley teacups, my best friends wearing pastel cardigans and big hats.

I sometimes daydream that I get invited to attend such event. I can picture the fine china, the twice polished silver trays and cutlery, lace fabric everywhere. There are cucumber sandwiches (my personal favorite), scones (cheese please), cupcakes (for the sake of modernity) and lots of dark teas that, in reality, I would never even taste.

I wished I could say I dream of a tea party like the one of Alice in Wonderland, with fun characters and crazy adventure, but NO, I dream of the constricting etiquette, matching napkins, air kisses and pinky fingers in the air. The widest variation I could think off would be a "bridge" match afterwords. I can see myself growing white hairs right now.

Well, the way I see it I must crave some kind of structure. Structured fun, structured eating. Maybe it is just and obsession I have with pastries, it might be just the result of my estrogen levels. Femininity does not come easy to me, so if I have to wish for a tea party themed birthday to fulfill my womanhood quota, so be it.

Now if you excuse me, I have to go get myself a very French croissant.

To Do List

These are some things that I want to do before I'm 30. In no specific order:

Sky dive
Dress up for a club
Learn to swim
Scuba dive
Learn to Sky
Visit 10 countries
Go to a Rave
Learn a fourth language (properly)
Get in shape
Wear shorts
Give a conference or class
Create custom invites
Model
Finish a big painting
Wear a bathing suit and enjoy the experience
Find a pastime to be passionate about
Find a job to be passionate about
Marry job to pastime to be passionate about
Drive a scooter
Try mountain climbing
Heal my knees
Being able to meditate
Lose the last 10 pounds (and keep them off)
Enjoy my youth
Finish a degree
Earn 100 000K a year
Become an expert at something
Dress the way I think I should
Find a spiritual path
Volunteer to a charity
Sponsor a child in need
Find a pair of jeans that fit me properly
Go on a trip with girlfriends only
Go on a trip by myself alone
Win a contest
Plan an event from A to Z
Sing on a record
Pick up photography again
Write an article for a magazine I actually read
Meet the Sartorialist
Take hip-hop dance lessons
Learn to dance dancehall
Learn to play drums
Own a home
Learn to drive a standard shift car
Become neat and organized
Learn to say no!
Learn to say Hell Yes!
Work at the UN or on the diplomatic service
Start my own company
Get invited and attend a ball
Find a reason to wear a (not a weeding) gown
Added: Learn to dance Tectonik
Added: Learn to do cartwheels
Have High Tea, British style
Get a tattoo
Go to That store

I'll try and explain the reasoning behind these on this blogg and I'm sure I'll add some more.

Done: Get Tattoo

So I posted last week that I wanted to get a tattoo. Since I'm insane, I decided I would do it that same week.

It wasn't something impulsive, au contraire mes amis, it was just the conclusion to a couple of years of careful preparation. I was just waiting for the right moment. It was easy to recognize it was the right time.

I had found the idea that I wanted to keep with me forever, the statement that was going to follow the rest of my life, or at least try.

I also found someone I trusted enough to let them carve on my skin.

But most of all, I was no longer hesitant. I no longer cared what my bosses or my friends would say.

Some people don't make a big deal out of people's appearance, some do. There is nothing I can do. After all, what matters is how I feel about myself and how I present myself to others.

I decided to get the tattoo on the inside of my forearm. Quite visible if you ask me. And I would not have it any other way.

I actually wanted to tattoo my hand, but somehow my tattoo artist suggested I don't. After thinking about all the other possibilities (ankle, inside arm, etc...) I chose the forearm. If I wanted a tattoo, I wanted something I could see myself, all the time. Because for me it is not really an ornament, this tattoo is a reminder.

Let this be clear, I'm not a fan of pain, I've very often been described as hypochondriac and a wuz. Lets just say I proved everyone right that Friday. My friends knew I would need moral support so Stephanie, Dominique and Nik showed up.

Before the needle was out of its package, I had already freaked out. When the tools were ready and the gun was buzzing, I withdrew my hand and proceeded to laugh like a mental patient, after five minutes of uncontrollable hysteria I was finally able to sit straight and let the poor guy touch my arm.

It hurt. Not as much as I thought it would, quite bearable, still, those are 20 minutes I'll never forget. Yes, it took only twenty minutes. Quick and efficient.

I think my friends also enjoyed the experience, they love me, but they also enjoy my suffering or my theatrics, I still have a hard time understanding the nuances of their appreciation.

I'm glad I went ahead with this idea, every day I see this reminder and I'm sure it wasn't a mistake, I'm under the impression that as the days go by and I grow older and wiser, I'll love it even more.

Done: Go to THAT store.

Yes, and I mean THAT store. The one you always pass by in front and wished you could buy everything on the display.

The one that also makes you tell yourself you have no time to go in, I mean, is not like you need more shoes or anything.

Anyways, for me THAT store is SOHO on St-Laurent, I pass by it at least 5 times a week and every time I tell myself I could totally wear what that skinny ass plastic (or plaster?) mannequin is wearing.

"That is so me" I would tell myself, but then, why had I never entered the shop?

I think there are a couple of reasons; first, it looks a bit intimidating.

I'm a klutz, and I have this impression that when I enter a perfectly organized place, full of things that are beautiful, I get scared. Will I drop that necklace? Will I rip a dress?

Second, because the clothes on display looked so good. I was absolutely sure those were really good quality pieces, and well, quality usually has a price.

I'm not broke, but lets say my clothing budget is more Forever 21 or Fripperie than Holt's or Sack's.

Today I was in the bus and I saw that we were getting near the corner where THAT store is located, I was calculating if the bus would stop at the red light, so I could salivate over the clothes from the bus window.

I just told myself, "lets do this", you work, you make your own money, today you look semi decent and it is as good a day as it will ever be.

I rang the bus to stop, calmly but apprehensively stepped down and walked 20 meters and, without loosing focus, went straight in.

Lovely, I saw a couple of boots I could actually afford, lots of nice dresses that did not look like they were going to fit me, a couple of really original necklaces and surprise, there were even things I did not remotely like.

I guess some things are better in my head that in real life. That store had been my aspirational place, and now that I felt I could go inside and actually feel like a client, I guess the excitement wore off.

Regardless of that, I think it was good for me to do it. I would recommend everyone to do it, go to THAT store, the one that "is totally you".

Who cares if you can buy or not, the important thing is that you feel confident enough to know wherever you are, you will always belong, not because they let you, but because you make that so.

To Do: Get a Tatto

Why, well, because it is something I've always wanted. I always wished I was bad ass enough to have a sleeve, full of tattoos with bright colors and a whole lot of attitude.
Like Kat VonD!

Ha! I don't think it would look very nice since I look like a 13 year old girl (with an excess body fat), and because well, I work in a "formal" office environment, therefore the biker gang look is frowned upon.

Yeah, that, and I'm afraid of what I'm going to look like when I'm old and wrinkled, so I'm only going to get something small and probably text.

Why? because I don't want my grandchildren to ask me what Pokemon is that I have tattooed on my arm, when it was a ladybug at the begging.

Not that I would ever get those kind of cutesy things, or maybe I will, knowing myself I say no today, tomorrow I'll wake up and have a pink unicorn on my left butt cheek.

Maybe I'll do like that guy in Memento, I hope is the movie is Memento, well, maybe it isn't Memento (I'm so sure I have the name of the movie wrong); the guy that tattoos reminders on his skin so that he can remember what he did the day before.

I would have a tattoo on my arm that says "Keys on the basket near the door" but then I would never be able to re-arrange the furniture of the apartment again, or move out...

That is why I picked something that I think will help me, something that I will never say "Why did I do this?"

I'll write about it tomorrow, maybe by then I will be able to cross it off my list of things to do before I'm 30.