Which Socialite Are You?

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Are you an Intentional Socialite or an Incidental Socialite?*

A what or a what? I’ve never heard of those terms.

Of course not. I just made them up.

Well then how can I answer the question if I don’t know what they are? Maybe if you explained them first?

Oh. I guess you’re right. Okay.

An Intentional Socialite is one who actively pursues social interactions with others. They’re the ones who hold dinners, organise nights out or coffee catch ups or who are only interested in going to see a movie if it’s with a group of friends.

Makes sense. And an Incidental Socialite?

An Incidental Socialite experiences social contact in the context of another activity. A chat over coffee after church or community singing, catching up during a break in a theatre rehearsal or art class, the brief “How’s it going?” exchanges after a meeting or waiting to pick up kids in the school playground, even purely social events as long as they’re predictable like Friday night drinks after work or a weekly coffee date at the same cafe.

I think I understand.

Good. So which one are you?

I need to think about it. I’ll let you know in the Comments.

Okay.

So which one are you, then?

Me? Oh, definitely an Incidental Socialite. Well, except for a brief period at the end of my 30s when I actively pursued social contact with the support of a psychologist in a challenging time of my life.

What made you stop?

Psychologists are expensive.

Ha ha. Couldn’t you do it without the psychologist?

As a shy introvert? No. Not for long, anyway.

Did it concern you?

Not really. That’s the beauty of Incidental Social Contact, you don’t notice that you don’t really have a social life.

So what made you come up with this concept?

Too much long distance running by myself. Nowhere to go but inside my own head.

Very funny. But there must have been some reason the thoughts were there.

Hm. Yeah, there was.

Well?

Well, you know how I said I wasn’t concerned about not having intentional social contact?

Yes.

Lately I have been.

Been what? Concerned?

Yes.

Why?

Well, that was the question, wasn’t it? Why? Why now after all these years?

And?

And I realised I was noticing a lack of social contact with people because almost all of my incidental social opportunities have disappeared.

I see. How did that happen?

Hard to say. Life changes, you know? Some things ended by choice. Some not. Even with work, I’ve gone back to casual teaching and work offers have been thin on the ground so even brief staffroom chats over lunch aren’t happening.

So what are you going to do? As an Incidental Socialite?

Get used to my own company?

Not funny. Seriously, what are you going to do?

Well, I’ve got you, haven’t I? I do enjoy these little chats of ours in the Comments Bar & Grill. What are you drinking? My shout.

Thanks, I’m flattered and I’ll post my order in the Comments. But don’t you think flesh and blood socialising might also be a good idea?

Well, I have started going to group classes at the gym.

I guess that’s a start. Although, how do you hold a conversation while you’re bouncing around and sweating profusely?

It can be done. After all, I came up with this whole Intentional/Incidental social concept while I was running thirty kilometres, didn’t I?

Thirty kilometres?? You ran thirty kilometres? Okay, I think you may have more problems than I thought.

Very funny. I’ve finished my drink. It’s your shout.

Uh, right. What are you having?

Gin. And as you’re buying, make it a double.

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*My fingers kept wanting to type “Socialist” but that’s a whole other discussion.

Another year over

A new one just begun… (almost)

I believe it is customary at this time of year to make resolutions for the year ahead. I’ve never been a fan of New Year Resolutions. It always feels like setting yourself up for failure.

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But I’ve been reviewing my resistance to resolutions.

Common areas for improvement have traditionally been based around losing weight, getting fit and giving up some vice or other.

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I don’t need to lose weight. Even with a chocolate-laden diet. Lucky me.

I already belong to a gym and have control over my fitness. It’s what allows me to have my chocolate-fuelled diet. It’s all about motivation.

I don’t smoke and I don’t….oh. Well, okay, I could probably make alterations in my imbibing rates at times. I like wine. And beer. And gin. That’s grapes, wholegrains and berries. I’m pretty sure all of those appear in the healthy section of the food pyramid, right? So I’m all good there, then.

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So I have been musing about resolutions and their purpose and have concluded that they are about improvement of oneself and benefit to others. In which case, I’ve come up with the following resolutions for 2019:

1. I will politely decline whenever anyone asks me to take a photo of them. I am a shocking photographer. This will reduce disappointment in the world.

2. I will perfect the politician’s skill of answering a question with a question thus avoiding talking about myself. This will reduce eyestrain in the community as people are no longer required to dart their eyes to the side looking for a way out whenever I am speaking, especially after a couple of glasses of wine.

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3. I will write all emails and messages based on the competition standard of 25 words or less. Then I will delete them. Only if I can be bothered rewriting them will I send them. This will increase productivity across the land.

4. I will limit my consumption of American late night talk show host monologues to once a week. This is for my own general wellbeing and mental health. It will also reduce boredom in those less obsessed with US politics.

5. I will utilise the gym more regularly but will not talk about it on social media. (Okay, so I lied about having control over my fitness. Seriously, who doesn’t drop the ball over Christmas/New Year?)

In the tradition of New Year Resolutions, I expect to have broken every one of these by the end of January.

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Sorry.

 

Got some New Year Resolutions of your own? How do you think you’ll go?

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Magic Kitchen Fairy

We have a Magic Kitchen Fairy.

It’s true.

She’s amazing.

For example:

If you spill something on the bench, you can just leave it and the Magic Kitchen Fairy will wipe it up.

If you pull the inner seal off a bottle of milk, just leave it on the bench. The Magic Kitchen Fairy will pop it in the bin for you. The same goes for empty packets and wrappers.

Dirty plate or cup? Just put it down wherever you’re sitting. The Magic Kitchen Fairy will be along soon to collect it for you.

Whenever you make a sandwich, don’t worry about the cutting board, knife and crumbs and stuff. The Magic Kitchen Fairy will clean that up for you.

Oops. Had an overflow in the microwave? Not a problem! Just go about your business and the Magic Kitchen Fairy will wash the tray and make that microwave sparkling clean again.

If you forget to put that box of cereal back in the pantry, not to worry. The Magic Kitchen Fairy put it away for you.

See? She’s amazing!

She hates me.

No, listen, she really hates me. I’ve tried doing those things and she never cleans things up for me.

And I swear when others leave a mess and I’m around, she hides and leaves me to do it.

She hates me.

You don’t think she exists, do you? But she does. I know.

How do I know she exists?

Because I know my husband and children definitely believe in the Magic Kitchen Fairy.  They trust her completely to clean things up for them. Surely four people can’t be that badly mistaken, can they?

I mean, if they don’t believe in the Magic Kitchen Fairy, then they must be leaving those messes for me to clean up. And that can’t be right, can it?

We have a Magic Kitchen Fairy.

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Toxic Cloud Warning

A MOSY News exclusive

Southern Australia, 8 January 2017

Meteorologists are warning the public of a large testosterone cloud that has emerged in a small area of south-eastern Australia in recent weeks. They are unsure of the reasons for the development of the toxic plume but it is assumed to be caused by the cessation of normal activities in the area.

It is not known what health impacts are likely from exposure to the testosterone cloud but medical experts have issued a warning to anyone living in the area who is genetically female and carries the motherhood gene that there could be moderate to severe psychological effects. Such persons are advised to exit the area whenever possible to reduce exposure. Some relief from symptoms is possible through contact with other genetically female persons not affected by the cloud.

Non-residents are being advised to steer clear of the area.

While climate experts cannot yet fully account for the emergence of the cloud, analysis of historical data would suggest that this is not an entirely new phenomenon and there has been evidence of similar developments in the past. In these cases, the cloud has dissipated by early February which would indicate that the reduction in normal activities in the area is the probable cause of the toxic cloud.

Based on such evidence and despite the unusual size of the current development, it is hoped that this testosterone cloud will dissipate by mid-February. The Bureau of Meteorology advises that the cloud should hold no immediate danger to the wider community but that those living in the area should exercise caution at all times in the coming weeks.

MNN

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The Crumb Wars: A Special Report

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It is now more than eighteen months since our correspondent, Heath Dempster, was evacuated from the Central Republic of Kitchen in the wake of sustained attacks from wardrobe terrorists and continued unrest in the rebel Northern States of Boys Rooms. In this special report, Dempster returns to the region to discover how the people of CRK are faring. He spoke to our presenter Nigel Havestock yesterday.

Heath, it’s so wonderful to speak to you in the CRK again.

Yes, thank you, Nigel. It’s wonderful to be back here.

So, how are you finding it?

It’s very interesting, Nigel. In some ways, things haven’t changed but in others they have changed dramatically – both good and bad.

What’s been happening since you were last there?

Well, you would recall that my earliest reports were in regard to battles between the rebels and government forces in the Bench areas of the country.

Yes, the beginning of the Crumb Wars.

Precisely. There have been some interesting developments. Approximately six months ago, the Leader of the CRK, Mother, initiated a new Sourdough industry in a bid to improve the wellbeing of her citizens.

That sounds wonderful.

One would think so. Unfortunately, what it has done is exacerbate the conditions in the Bench areas and guerrilla attacks of toast crumbs have increased dramatically.

And what has been the response from the government?

That is what is interesting, Nigel. It seems that in order to support the fledgling Sourdough industry, the government has been tolerating these attacks, entering the area only when the rebels have moved on and initiating clean up before the rebels return. This seems to be maintaining some semblance of order while minimising the chance of increased hostilities. And, of course, the Sourdough industry is thriving in response.

What about other areas in the region, Heath? How are they doing?

Unfortunately, the Northern States of Boys Rooms have descended into complete anarchy and chaos. There was some attempt early on to enforce civic order but following extensive carpet bombing by leaders in the Northern States, this has been abandoned. It is unknown just how the citizens are surviving in such conditions but they have been sighted outside the States searching for food.

Heath, last time you were in the CRK there was some tension between the Leader and the Deputy Leader, is that correct?

That’s right, Nigel. Mother had sacked the Deputy Leader, Father, as the Secretary of Cleanliness on suspicion of siding with the rebels.

How is that relationship now?

Nigel, that is the most fascinating of the good news/bad news discoveries on my visit here. You may recall reading of the Leader’s humanitarian visit outside the CRK late last year?

Ah yes, in the wake of the recent earthquakes?

Yes. While she was absent from the CRK, the Deputy Leader was in charge and by all reports did a reasonable job of maintaining services and some civic order. He was particularly active in ensuring the continuation of hygiene and sanitation services, somewhat unusually as he has often spurned offers of ministry portfolios in these areas.

Within days of Mother’s return to the CRK, there was a shocking assassination attempt by a wardrobe terrorist cell, the Clothing Moths, that had been ravaging the country. Fortunately, the assassination attempt failed. However, the Leader was severely injured and unable to resume duties for some months. Father continued in the role, ensuring transport, food provision and sanitation services were maintained throughout the country.

What has been most fascinating, Nigel, is that while Mother has now resumed the leadership of the country, Father has retained his role in coordinating hygiene and sanitation services.

That is fascinating, Heath. Why do you think that is?

I’m not sure, Nigel, but I suspect Mother was not keen to resume control of those ministry areas and Father felt no option but to remain. It will be interesting to see if it continues in the longer term but it does seem to have brought some stability to the region now that the Leader and Deputy Leader appear to be working together for the betterment of their citizens.

Well, Heath, I wish you well on the rest of your visit to the CRK and do keep us posted.

Of course. It’s been a pleasure to talk to you, Nigel.

That was Heath Dempster, our correspondent, reporting from the Central Republic of Kitchen. Heath travelled to the CRK as a special media representative with the United Household Nations.

Want more information? Check out our Crumb Wars archives:

The Crumb Wars: Battle of the Bench

The Crumb Wars 2: Expansion Into The Northern States

The Crumb Wars 3: Abandonment of Civic Order

The Crumb Wars 4: Rice Wars

The Crumb Wars 5: Terror in the Skies

 

 

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Don’t Get Mad, Get Even

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“Hello?”

“Hello, madam. I am calling from the Technical Department of [insert telecommunications/broadband company here]. I am calling you because we have noticed you have suspicious activity on your computer and people could be stealing your information.”

What do you do when you get these calls? Hang up? Get annoyed? Do you not even get this far, hanging up the phone as soon as you hear that telltale pause when you answer the phone?

In the MOSY household, we greet these calls with glee. Ooh, goody! It’s “Torture the Fake Technical Department Caller” time!

If I’m busy, eg in the middle of cooking dinner, my standard is to wait long enough for them to get to the point of asking me to turn on my computer and then I say “Okay. Hang on a minute.” I then put the phone down on the bench and walk away. I’ll come back later and hang it up.

Once, a very persistent caller rang me back after this procedure. He accused me of hanging up on him.

“I did not!” I said. “I went and turned the computer on and when I came back to the phone you weren’t there.”

“I was here!” he retorted.

“No, you weren’t!”

This went on for a bit. Finally, he decided to get on with the task at hand.

“Okay. Well, is your computer on now?”

“No. I turned it off when you weren’t there.”

Deep breath.

“Well, can you turn it on now?”

“Yep. Hang on a tic.”

He didn’t try to ring back a third time.

If I’m not busy and in need of some amusement, I try and keep them on the line for as long as possible. The best way to do this is to pretend your computer won’t turn on. I once had a call escalated up three levels as they tried to figure out why my computer wouldn’t work.

It’s important, also, to feign as much ignorance as possible. I managed to string out the instruction to press the Control key on my keyboard for about five minutes.

“Which button?”

“It says C-T-R-L. It’s on the bottom left of your keyboard.”

“Where?”

“The bottom left corner. Can you see it?”

“No. I don’t have a button like that.”

And so on.

But our all time favourite was this one:

“Madam, is your computer turned on?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I need you to…”

“There’s smoke coming out of it!”

“Madam? I need you to…”

“My computer’s on fire!! What did you do??”

“I did not do anything, madam. I need you to…”

“Yes, you did!! You made my computer catch on fire!! IT’S ON FIRE!!”

The poor girl tried to stick to her script while I kept screaming about my incendiary technology. Then she hung up.

Sigh. Such simple pleasures.

So next time you get one of these calls, don’t get irritated. Get as much fun out of it as you can. It’s cheap entertainment and while they’re on the line with you, they’re not ripping off some poor unsuspecting innocent.

Have you got your own favourite method for dealing with these callers?

 

 

 

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The Great International Chocolate Exchange

Many bloggers may not be aware that there is a not-all-that-secret-really exchange of commodities going on here in the Community Blogosphere.

Pssst…. Hey buddy!… Want some chocolate?

Between the Sometimes-Wintry-But-We-Don’t-Want-To-Talk-About-It wastes of Wisconsin, the Oh-Look-It’s-That-Building-From-That-Movie city of Toronto and the We-All-Walk-On-Our-Heads land of Oz, there has been a steady movement of sweet commodities.

It all started when M-J from Mary J Melange posted about her mother’s change of confectionery habit which lead to the following comment exchange:

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This was soon followed by:

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The goods were duly dispatched from New York City to Wisconsin and you can read about how they were received here.

Simultaneous to this experiment in international chocolate diplomacy, Joanne over at My Life Lived Full was taking her blog premise to new extremes by testing the hypothesis that millions of Australians couldn’t be wrong and that Vegemite was actually edible. You can read about her results here.

As it turned out, she agreed with the hypothesis and subsequently I had the following exciting news to share:

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Well, that’s no fun, is it? None of my Australian readers want to know what I think of Vegemite chocolate. A Canadian blogger trying Vegemite chocolate on the other hand….

This was delicate territory, however. Vegemite chocolate was a limited release commodity and sending it out of the country had to be handled with discretion. So a top secret communiqué was sent to Maggie at The Zombies Ate My Brains to enquire if she knew of Joanne’s address as they had previously met up for a Blogger Meet-up. The sensitive information was duly dispatched and the wheels turned. (That would be the wheels of the postie’s bike/scooter/van depending on your cultural mode of postal transport.)

After too many weeks (the wheels of postal diplomacy spin slowly), the package finally arrived. Read about how it was received and what Vegemite chocolate really tastes like here.

About the same time, I posted a piece lamenting my inability to purchase Milk Duds in New York City. This is my favourite American candy and not to be able to buy it when I’m actually in the country was ridiculous. However, in the comments, the following mysterious exchange took place:

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Something was up………..

Many weeks later (more slow wheels), just as I’d almost forgotten about it, a box arrived on my doorstep. Perfectly timed to arrive on a day I came home from work on crutches (I fell over), it brought chocolatey joy to my heart and my aching skin-shredded hand (it had an argument with the bitumen onto which I fell over).

Canadian goodies

TWO boxes of Milk Duds! I’ll be picking caramel out of my teeth for weeks!

The two chocolate bars, I was assured, are unique to Canada and the biscuits (cookies) are Joanne’s favourite.

I shared the chocolate bars with the four male members of the MOSY household (although my usually very accurate mathematical division may have been a bit off that day as one piece was mysteriously cut larger than the other four). I found them both quite strong in taste and the chocolate tasted different but I can’t quite say how. The Eldest Son thought the Crispy Crunch tasted like a Snickers (in flavour not in texture) while the Youngest Son was impressed with the coffee flavour of the Coffee Crisp as it wasn’t too strong.

The Mr Maple biscuits were taken to our monthly family dinner bringing a gasp of surprise and a smile of happiness to my Canadian soon-to-be-niece-in-law. As coffee was served at the end of the meal, I opened the packet and a strong, beautiful waft of maple syrup drifted over the table. I could happily sit around with my nose in the box all day but that would probably worry people. The biscuits were delicious with two crisp biscuits sandwiching a creamy maple-flavoured centre. They kind of look like little people when you stand them up. I guess that’s why they’re called Mr Maple.

Mr Maples

Thank you, Joanne (and Maggie as co-conspirator) for bringing much joy, laughter and sugar into my life.

I wonder where the Great International Chocolate Exchange will take us next?

What I love best about blogging is the conversation each post starts in the Comments section. This is just one fun outcome of those wacky and witty exchanges. 🙂

 

 

 

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Killing Herman

Killing Herman

It has to end. I just can’t care for him any longer. When he first came to us, I was vigilant about feeding him, looking after him, helping him reach his potential. But it’s been a month now and I just don’t think I can do it any more.

I could blame it on my busy life. Already caring for five males (one husband, three sons and a ginger cat), it would be reasonable to say I don’t have room in my life for another.

I could blame the injury. A fall at work last week left me on crutches for a day and my scraped right hand is still giving me gyp. It doesn’t need another task to undertake each day.

But if I were to be truly honest, I would have to admit that it’s most probably because I am bored. He’s had a pretty good life with us, three times longer than we were expected to keep him, but he’s starting to outstay his welcome.

I almost killed him over the weekend. He should have been fed on Friday. I remembered on Monday. He’s hanging in there but it doesn’t seem right to subject him to such neglect.

So it’s time to lay Herman to rest.

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Herman – Surviving rather than thriving

Herman is a chain-letter cake. Okay, so technically he’s Herman the German Friendship Cake but when it comes right down to it, he’s really just an edible version of those annoying chain letters that do the rounds. I’m not much of a fan of chain-anythings but in this case, at least we got cake. Multiple cakes, in fact.

The theory, having been given Herman by a ‘friend’ (see aforementioned opinion of chain letters and suchlike), is to look after and grow Herman until he is able to give of himself and to then pass him on to three friends while keeping one portion for yourself to bake into a cake. I thought it was clever to give away two portions, make a cake with one and then keep the last one to start all over again. Herman has been prolific in his sharing. I thought we’d be together longer. Others have lived for 25 years. It’s a romantic idea but impractical in a barely-managing household of teenagers and working parents.

I’m sorry, Herman.

At least you can cater for your own wake.

Herman Cake

Still giving.

 

 

 

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An Ode To Milk Duds

Milk Duds

I think that some will never see

A poem as lovely as a tree

But to them, I say “My buds,

No tree can match the great Milk Duds.”

My favourite American ‘candy’ (I’ll excuse my use of this so-USA term since it relates to confectionery native to that country) is the Milk Dud. Or must they always be referred to in the plural? My favourite American candy is the Milk Duds. That doesn’t sound right either. Anyone know the accepted convention? No?

Anyway, however you say it, these golden nuggets of chocolate-coated caramel are always my imported candy/lolly/sweet of choice.

So imagine my eagerness to stock up on their nuggety goodness during a recent visit to the Big Toffee Apple.

Except I couldn’t find them. Not anywhere. Not even at the great Dylan’s Candy BarNot even at the Hershey’s store.

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Milk Duds are made by Hershey’s. You’d think, logically, wouldn’t you, that an iconic Hershey’s flagship store would stock their own product, right?

Wrong.

Was there a national Milk Duds shortage? Or had they (gasp!) stopped making them?? Had Milk Duds gone the way of the Pollywaffle to be relegated to the Dodo-land of Extinct Chocolate Bars?

No search of the candy aisle in a supermarket, bodega or gift shop could turn up the favoured treat. There was nothing for it but to go home empty-Milk-Duds-handed.

And then today, as I wandered aimlessly in our state capital, the display in a local Lolly Shop caught my eye. GASP! MILK DUDS!! I hurried into the shop and asked for the precious gold ingots. I purchased the last remaining box. Perhaps they really were soon to be relegated to “Retro” status.

I could, of course, ask Mr Google if my worst fears have been realised but I think I do not want my worst fears to be realised. Much like believing in fairies, if I keep the belief in the existence of Milk Duds alive, then surely they will continue to exist.

But perhaps it would be wise to consult Mr Google as to the availability of further purchases within reasonable delivery cost and stock up, just in case.

GROSS FACT NO.1

Any turd found at the bottom of a public swimming pool was colloquially referred to as a “Pollywaffle”. Perhaps this is what hastened the poor chocolate bar’s demise.

SAD FACT NO.1

The Allen’s Confectionery Company (owned by Nestlé) has just announced the cessation of production of Spearmint Leaves and Green Frogs. This has caused outrage from the Mini Chocolate Christmas Pudding makers of Australia who will no longer have a sugary imitation of holly leaves. Nobody seems to care about the frogs.

 

 

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Pecan Pie!!!

Okay, so maybe I’m inclined to pursue a joke a bit too far….

A couple of weeks ago, I published a post about my love of the movie When Harry Met Sally and my absolute delight in stumbling across filming locations for the movie in New York City. Much of my excitement lay in suddenly finding myself in the place in which my favourite scene – the Pecan Pie scene – was filmed.

This post led my blogging friend Barbara Pyett to post a recipe of Pecan Pie (partly for my benefit). This in turn led me to make said Pecan Pie for a family dinner this evening.

Pecan Pie

And yes, there were silly voices around the table. (Actually, I told them they couldn’t eat it until they’d said “pecaaaaan piiiiiieeeee”. Possibly cruel but hilariously funny.)

Pecan Pie Slice

So, in turn, here is another post about Pecan Pie. Because it’s funny. And also delicious. (Thanks, Barbara.)

But wait. There’s more. (And it’s not steak knives.)

I’ve just finished appearing in a production of Shakespeare’s Two Gentlemen of Verona. I played Panthina, servant to Proteus’ mother Antonia.

And all the Shakespeare scholars out there are suddenly scratching their heads and thinking, “No, that’s not right. It’s Proteus’ father Antonio who is in the play. And he has a manservant called Panthino.”

Yes, well, let me tell you about non-professional theatre. Men are hard to find. And our little theatre company believes it is better to gender-flip a role and put in a great female actor than put in a terrible male one. (Not that I’m a great female actor. I just happened to be handy.)

ANYWAY….

Panthina was only in the first half of the play. In the second half I got to play an Outlaw, along with a couple of those great female actors I was telling you about.

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Such a frightening rabble.

(Don’t you just love those bearded beanies?!?)

One of my fellow outlaws is another big When Harry Met Sally fan and after my post, there was some hilarity out the back as we replayed our favourite scenes while waiting to go back on stage.

Then things got a little more out of hand.

At one point in the play, we had to run along the outside of the hall in which we were performing making a racket as if we were chasing someone through the woods. One night, my fellow WHMS fan decided she would shout “Waiter, waiter” the whole way. It didn’t really matter. No one in the audience ever had the faintest clue what we were “hallowing” about anyway.

Well, that just seemed like a bit too much fun to me so the next performance, I proceeded to shout “PEEECAAAN PIIIEEEE!” as we ran, trying not to fall over laughing.

I believe on the last night of the play, we not only repeated these phrases but threw in a “I’ll have what she’s having” while we were at it.

Way too much fun from one little scene.

Pecan pie. I love it. In sooo many ways.

Have you ever threaded a favourite movie scene into your life in some way?

 

 

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