Thermomix and the meaning of life

Yesterday was a very strange day indeed.

It started with a plan to have a Vietnamese lunch in Cabramata with my sister and ended with a Thermomix in my kitchen and another major disaster in the world.

Next week is my birthday, the twenty second anniversary of the my twenty first birthday. My wonderful family (who only very occasionally drive me crazy) got brave this year and arranged a SURPRISE for me. Before I go on, it is necessary to say how difficult a task this was and how highly I rate this achievement. Surprising me is not an easy task for various reasons so I understand how much effort and stress it took to not only organise it but pull it off.

So yesterday I drove out to Warwick Farm to have my car valued for a possible trade-in and, after a couple of rather strange conversations with my sister, arrived home to find her and a strange lady and a large box waiting for me. I would have been less surprised had the box contained a naked Robbie Williams (a gift idea for next year...) but, in fact, it contained a brand spanking-new Thermomix, the kitchen machine of my dreams.

You may remember me coming across this masterpiece of kitchen engineering at the Tetsuya cooking masterclass I attended almost 18 months ago. It blew my mind then and I've been coveting it ever since. The price tag put it in the must have/can't have category and it has remained the glittering pinnacle on my wishlist.

And now it's here, in my kitchen, twinkling at me across the kitchen as I write; sitting smugly on my benchtop as if it's always been there. It is occupying the space where my KitchenAid lived until two weeks ago when it had to go to the KitchenAid doctor for a strange alignment problem it had developed. I very much feel like I'm cheating on my husband with Robbie Williams (at least I imagine what that must feel like, I'm willing to put the feeling to the test should the opportunity ever arise...). The KA will hopefully come home soon and my two best kitchen buddies will need to learn to share my love and the bench space.

However, I can now turf my kitchen scales (the TM weighs, you can reset it after each ingredient and then measure the new ingredient - i.e. 200g flour, reset, measure 100g sugar), my blender, my brand new ice cream machine, my stick blender.

The slightly manic Thermomix lady, the gorgeous Lynette, swooped into my kitchen, unloaded the TM onto my bench and within half an hour had produced a yummy soft serve style dessert called a Berry Dream, or some such, a bread dough, a cereal/crumble mix/topping type thing with coconut, apple, dates and nuts (yum!) and a risotto. She then swooped out again leaving me shell shocked (in the best way) and totally bewildered.

There are no sensible words to describe how excited and happy I feel to own such a wonderful piece of kitchen gadgetry. So lucky to have a husband who actually listens to me (who knew?!) and a family who steps up financially and logistically to make my Thermomix dream come true. Well done Big Jay, Jules, mum, dad, linesmen, ballboys.

But then I turn on the evening news and watch the horror unfolding in Japan and my excitement subsides somewhat. Watching the giant tide of water sweep over the landscape, smashing everything in its path, made me put our tiny human lives into proper perspective. Our little, busy ant lives are so important to us but so insignificant to Mother Nature and the march of time. I was overwhelmed with a monsterous tiredness as I watched and went to bed early, heavy with the knowledge that everything doesn't mean anything.

This morning the cloud has cleared. I awoke early, saying goodbye to Big Jay who left for his annual Coffs Harbour golf trip. Turning on the news momentarily brought back the depression (there should be a public service announcement if they're going to make you listen to JGull's dulcet tones at 5:30 am) but the realisation that Hawaii was still above water cheered me up somewhat. A cup of tea and a slice of the freshly baked Thermomix bread (toasted with avocado) brought up my spirits some more.

I've spent a couple of hours surfing the www in search of Thermomix recipes, blogs and communities and have found many. My TM, in future to be known as Theo (in honour of a very cool Mod I knew circa 1984), is smiling at me. A new culinary adventure begins.

Rocktober Day Six: Come Undone

My love affair with Robbie Williams didn't start until I saw him play live at the Sydney Football Stadium in December 2003. Before that he was just some ex-boy band drongo with a couple of catchy songs. I can't remember exactly why I went to that concert but it blew me away. I was hooked.

I love a lot of Robbie's songs, old and new, but Come Undone would have to be the all time favourite. First of all the lyrics are funny and clever. I love the way he lists his own personal contradictions which I think apply to most of us (at least myself) in some ways.

It's also the name - Come Undone - which hits a chord with me. It's such a simple phrase, two basic words, but together so meaningful. I often feel so close to coming undone, not in Robbie's take-drugs-sleep-with-countless-groupies-behave-badly sort of way, but just in a dealing with life way. I have clear moments of feeling like I'm just playing pretend with this being an adult thing and it would only take one false move to come undone, show that I'm just faking it.

The other theme of this song is unconditional love, familial love; being bad, feeling unworthy and wanting your family to still love you, accept you. What a universal theme that is.

Then, of course, the final verse. What a corker! It just sums up the life of a singer, a celebrity, in a few simple sentences. Beautiful! To me it hints at something else as well. How sincere are any of our lives? What do we hide, surpress, disguise, ignore to get along in life, at work, in our relationships? We all play roles to some degree, don't we?

Come Undone (click here for YouTube clip - this clip is awesome but don't watch it with children around, definitely for adults only - love it! - Robbie looking young, bad and hot!)

So unimpressed, but so in awe
Such a saint, but such a whore
So self-aware, so full of shit
So indecisive, so adamant
I'm contemplating, thinkin' about thinkin'
It's overrated, just get another drink and

Watch me come undone
They're selling razor blades and mirrors in the street
I pray when I'm coming down, you'll be asleep
If I ever hurt you, your revenge will be so sweet
Because I'm scum, and I'm your son
I come undone
I come undone

So rock 'n' roll, so corporate suit
So damn ugly, so damn cute
So well-trained, so animal
So need your love, so fuck you all
I'm not scared of dying, I just don't want to
If I stop lying, I'll just disappoint you

Come undone
They're selling razor blades and mirrors in the street
Come undone
I pray when I'm coming down, you'll be asleep
Come undone
If I ever hurt you, your revenge will be so sweet
Because I'm scum, and I'm your son
I come undone

So write another ballad, mix it on a Wednesday
Sell it on a Thursday buy a yacht on Saturday
It's a love song, a love song
Do another interview, sing a bunch of lies
Tell about celebrities that I despise
And sing love songs, we sing love songs so sincere

So sincere

Come undone
They're selling razor blades and mirrors in the street
Come undone
I pray when I'm coming down, you'll be asleep
Come undone
The young pretend you're in the clouds above the sea
I come undone
I am scum
Love your son
You've gotta love your son
Come undone
You've gotta love you son
Come undone

Love your son
I am scum
I am scum
I am scum
I am scum
I am scum
I am scum

Eating your own vomit

It's well documented how I feel about Robbie Williams. He is my fantasy sex on legs.

But today's announcement that he is getting back together with the boy band that spawned his career is akin to eating your own vomit.

For a start he has built a career on shitting on the band, it's members and his entire time with them. Having read his biography Feel I don't recall a single positive word about his experience with Take That.

Furthermore Take That were a boy band and I am fairly certain that none of them can these days be referred to as boys. And there is nothing more pathetic than grown men doing what must be done when they are recreating a boy band: i,e, doing naff dance moves while singing even naffer songs aimed at 12 year old girls.

It's not like he needs the money and I'm sure he didn't just wake up one day and realise he actually loved Gary Barlow instead of despise him.

So what's up? The whole things smells very bad to me and I am going to try very hard to ignore it. Hopefully it will just go away. Because if I see Robbie doing some lame choreographed dance routine alongside his old mate Gary there will be vomit, mark my words.

Me and My Robbie

I've been listening to RW's Reality Killed The Video Star a fair bit lately. I always start of slowly, almost reluctantly. It's hard work getting to know a new album (or should I say iTunes download; it doesn't have the same ring to it, does it). It's awkward, a little uncomfortable. Always easier to put on a much loved, well known old friend, singing along in the car being one of my all-time favourite activities.

With Reality I was especially slow off the mark because the first single Bodies didn't really ring my bell.

But slowly I've been easing myself into it and now the rewards are being reaped.

I would have to say at this point my TOP TWO are:

1) Do You Mind
This is Robbie at his cheeky, naughty best. A rocking tune and when he asks:
Do, ooh ooh, ooh, ooh ya mind, if I, II, I, I, II, I touch ya?
Well, what can a girl say? Except YES YES YES (oops, did I say that out loud?).
[After re-reading this I've realised I meant to say NO NO NO, but obviously I could never say NO to Robbie.]

2) Blasphemy
This one is more of Robbie's theatrical confessional style song. Best of all there is some great play on words which I especially love. Here's a taste:
I can’t behave
I know it’s not the heathen in me
It’s just that I’ve been bleeding lately
Internally
Don’t turn to me
bite your tongue, the torrid weapon
You could learn a useful lesson


What’s so great about the great depression?
Was it a blast for you?
‘Cause it’s blasphemy

With each new album I worry that I'm going to be disappointed. After all it's hard to better or even equal Come Undone or Sexed Up or Strong. But somehow the new music grows on me and soon enough takes its place amongst the favourites list I can't wait to belt out when I'm driving my poor children from A to B (no wonder they love their iPods so much).

Let me entertain 'roos, says outback Robbie Williams

I love the headline and I love the idea.

Come on Down... Under, Robbie. There are a couple of very nice apartments for sale in my building. We could be neighbours.

Imagine that!

"Just popping down to borrow a cup of sugar from our nice neighbour Robbie, dear."

"Why are wearing that sexy lingerie, darling?" [This is my fantasy and I don't look like a half melted marshmallow in this fantasy, OK!]

"Oh, no reason... back soon..."

Did I say that out loud?

Life is good.

Ryan O'Keefe (yes, my ex Sydney Swans boyfriend, now replaced by younger, improved model Jesse White) is going to be on Celebrity MasterChef. I was fantasising about a Nude Celebrity MasterChef (with clear plastic aprons of course, you wouldn't want any nasty fat burns down there!!) when I read that QLD Premier Anna Bligh was also going to be a contestant at which point the idea of any sort of nudity made me feel a little sick. So bring on fully clothed Celebrity MasterChef. I can't wait!

Then, when things just couldn't get any better I heard that RW, Robbie Williams, the Robmeister, was coming to the Land of Oz in November to promote his new album at the ARIAs (that's the Australian Record Industry Awards for the non-Australians amongst you). So with all the excitement I forgot that the ARIAs are lame. But who cares! If he was appearing at the local Bowling Club I'd be there. The good thing about the ARIAs is that they are on at Acer Arena which is walking distance from my house and they do the red carpet thingy so I can totally and utterly disgrace myself by hanging out with the 12 year old screamers and wave at Robbie when he gets out of the limo.

I know! I really have no dignity whatsoever. But surely you know that by now.

Despite myself I have grown to like Robbie Williams' Lovelight. I vowed to hate everything off Rudebox but this has grown on me. Go figure!