Desperate Measures

Paris in the Spring?

You should see Paris in the spring, they said.  The weather will be perfect, they said.  It's all very lovely, the said.

It's rainy and bloody cold is what it is.  Although it's all still very lovely.

A photo from our first night in Paris.  13 May, 2013.

We got back to the city last night and it was freezing.

I was trying to be optimistic about the weather.  Surely it was better in Paris than Moulin Lasnier.  So I got into the car for the three-hour drive home in jeans and flip flops.  I mean, come on!  It's almost June.  Summer should be looming in the horizon, not dark, angry rain clouds.  But dark and angry rain clouds were what we got.

I seem to be the bearer of bad weather.

Before I left for Australia last January, I asked Sue what she thought the weather would be like.  She said that their summers had been getting hotter and hotter and we were probably in for the hottest summer ever.  While it is true that the day after I arrived in Sydney, the city experienced its hottest day ever on record, the rest of the time, it was cold and rainy and I wore the only pair of jeans and long-sleeved shirt that I had brought with me for practically the entire duration of my stay.  I mean, we had a hail storm when I was in the Blue Mountains for god's sake and, on my last day in Melbourne, my host was in winter clothes!

As I write this, the sun is trying to burst out of the clouds.  I hope I don't jinx it back into hiding.

In the meantime, I think the perfect soundtrack for Paris in the gloom is "Pearly Dewdrops'  Drops" and the haunting vocals of Elizabeth Fraser.

  

Thank you!

Seven homes in three weeks in two states...

Thank you for opening up your homes, sharing your lives and allowing me a glimpse of life in the Land of Oz through your eyes:

Jane Moss, Susan Brandstetter, Gerry Degan, Penelope Price, Urs Seiber, Deyelle and Liam Freaney, Colleen Barton, Joy and Victor Van Straten, and Monika and Maurice Cruz!

The experience was precious and I enjoyed every minute of the time spent together.

Thank you, too, to Gary Yealland, Han and Mel Marquez, Tita Beng de Guzman, Ferdie de Guzman, Irma del Mundo, Deanna Coleman, Michael Wellings, Mark Lulham, Rapha Jansa, Tom Moore, and Mark Walker for sharing a bite, a drink, or some general silliness with me!

I hope to see you all again some time soon somewhere in this universe!

G

The View From Here (Cronulla, South Sydney)

Where In The World...? (An Overdue Update)

I'm so sick of eating right now that if you ask me if there is any food that I crave, I couldn't name a single one.  Not pasta or a burger.  Not foie gras or anything with truffles on it.  Not even ice cream or dark chocolate.  But if you put me in front of a table with food - guaranteed 100% - I will eat everything on that table.

Even the stuff I don't like, especially if I think they're supposed to be good.  Take those crinkles I was raving about a blog post ago.  They were probably left out of the refrigerator for too long and, by the time I got to them, they were stale.  But I kept having another crinkle just to make sure.  It took me about six of the damned things to concede the point.

You should know by now that I don't do moderation.  I am incapable of it.  The only solution that works for me is to remove myself from the equation completely.  Why do you think I exiled myself to Siargao for three months last year?

During my last week in Manila, before I left for Australia, I started declining lunches or dinners that I didn't have to have.  I gave away most of the food I had in the refrigerator, including what was left of those crinkles.  At home, I didn't dare venture anywhere near the kitchen or the dinner table.  I didn't even want to know what was on the menu.  If I didn't see it, I couldn't eat it.  If I didn't know about it, I couldn't want it.

In effect, I had resumed intermittent fasting and was back to having one meal a day.  I also went to barre3 every day since they reopened their studios after the holidays.  Final weigh-in, as of January 12, was 53.5 kilos.  

And then I left for Australia and everything went to pot.

Since I've been here, I've been on a steady diet of brownies, ice cream and chocolate.  (If ever you're in Melbourne and have a craving for brownies, you might want to give the Brownie Fairy a call at +61-488-758-854.  That's my mate, Jane Moss, and her capuccino brownies are to die for.)  Before I left Melbourne, I was back at 55 kilos.

I am now staying with Susan and Gerry (my friends from Siargao) in Cronulla, South Sydney, and it's a good thing that they are both trying to be healthy.  Which means that Susan dragged me to yoga yesterday.  (I can assure you though that I won't be letting her do that again.)  And that, although I've been in Cronulla since Thursday afternoon, Gerry and I didn't have any beers until last night.  Which was, er, Friday night.  (Well, it did seem like a long time to hold off.)

As I was writing this, I was contemplating a return to the Paleo lifestyle, but then Sue came home with a very nice nice sourdough fruit loaf, so I'm pretty sure I won't be entertaining any more thoughts of Paleo again until I am back in the Philippines.  But I should be cutting down on the brownies, ice cream and chocolate.  Especially since most of them are now in my belly.  (Although there are a few Magnum minis still in the freezer and Cold Rock is just around the corner...)

I am now contemplating a run - given that I am, once again, a yoga school dropout...

Okay, I'm out.