Letters To Australia

Happiness is…

Maple Syrup Cupcakes, and Chocolate Cupcakes.

Vegan baking ftw.

And whether you are vegan or (more likely) not, you should buy ALL of Isa Chandra Moskowitz’s books. All of them. Because they are the best recipes books I’ve ever read.

Or at least they’re up there.

Photo of the day brought to you by the guy who lives next to the porn shop off the highway leading into K’ville, dude needs a new flag.

Tomorrow (or the next day)’s photo: Patriotism, the McDonalds way

Seeing as how I’m a pretty open, honest sort of person, I will openly and honestly tell you that I think Kirksville is boring.

Now that’s not to say that I’m bored – I’m amusing myself quite succesfully and enjoying the hell out of this downtime – but the combination of not having a lot to do and being stuck indoors because of the pretty pretty snow has been driving me a little stir crazy.

Which is why I found myself devoting an hour and twenty minutes of my life tonight to a ‘Cardio Kickboxing’ class.

Oh boy… I expected heavy bags at the very least, but it was even less kickboxing than it was cardio: I hardy even worked up a sweat, and the heaters were ON.

In addition to which, the teacher (who’s age I’d pegged at about 22, quite possibly correctly) didn’t know how to teach.
She said to me: ‘I took up kickboxing just after my first daughter was born, so about three years ago,’ yet proceeded to demonstrate a stunning lack of kickboxing and/or teaching skillz.
She just had no grip on the fact that we weren’t all as excessively (obsessively?) fit as her. I mean, if I can’t do fifty sit ups, how does she expect the overweight fifty year old next to me to handle it? And just because she can touch her forehead to her knees that DOES NOT mean that of us can hold that position – or any semblance of it – for three minutes. AND, though she seemed oblivious to the fact that she was doing it, saying one combination, doing another, then changing it for the second round IS NOT CONDUCIVE TO A COHERENT AND COMPREHENSIVE CLASS.

Nobody had any idea what was going on, and hence we did not do much.

On tuesday I took a Tae Kwon Do class for many of the same reasons I attended tonight’s complete waste of time, and while I thoroughly unenjoyed it, at least I learnt things from it.* ‘Cardio Kickboxing’ just annoyed the fuck out of me.

Apparently there is a Muay Thai place in Columbia, and in Kansas City there is a gym which teaches (my beloved) Krav Maga. But for the time being it seems like I’m devoid of any excercise at all save beating a heavy bag. I can’t even go outside, it hurts to much to breath the frozen air.

I expect I will return to my former (‘anti-social’) habits of reading an superhuman amount as a coping mechanism.

Oh well.

Peace.

*1) Traditional martial arts are seriously not my bag, baby
and
2) My core strength is laughable. If I need to kick or hit something that’s fine – whatever it is had best brace itself- but tell me to stand in a forward facing whatever position for five minutes and my thighs will hate you forever.

I promised a post called ‘Kraft Dinner: A Cheez Odyssey’ or something, but when I actually got around to making mac and cheese and taking pictures, the dish didn’t turn out the excitingly bizarre shade of orange the packet promised. Therefore the photos are boring and you don’t get to see them.

I did buy Cheez Powder from the Amish store though. I’m confused about why they had it in the first place, but it was cheap and is the most horrifying shade of fluoro orange in the world. So I figured it was blogworthy, if only because you will all be surprised I’m willing to ingest something so terrifying.

Forget deep fried bugs and the raw organs of exotic creatures, orange cheese powder is the new black as far as terrifying culinary experiences go.

…

This blog doesn’t have a point I just figured nobody would read it if I never updated it.

That, and I’m a little narcissistic. A little self indulgent.

Not tomorrow but the next day I’m going vegan. For a month.

I feel like veganism is something I’m kind of inexorably drawn to, the way I was to vegetarianism.

Going vegetarian was obviously a conscious decision on my part, but at the same time it just sort of happened to me. Like I woke up all of a sudden and realised that the whole idea of eating meat was revolting – I don’t feel like it was something I could have avoided.

I saw a shirt that said ‘I you’re not vegan, you’re no vegetarian’ and I totally agree. Death and cruelty are such fundamental aspects of the dairy industry and the egg industry that don’t feel like I’ll be able to stomach it much longer.

So, feb 20 to march 20 is Vegan Month. It’s a trial, because veganism is fucking hard and all the harder, I imagine, for the homeless. Traveller. Whatever.

The one concern I have? Oreo milkshakes.

I’m in the country that INVENTED oreo milkshakes and I fucking LOVE them, but they are not vegan.

And – I actually contemplated this – making a soy shake with tofutti and vegan chocolate biscuits just wouldn’t be the same. It’s be fucking awful is what.

So anyway, like, have some pictures, or something. I’ll stop ranting.

The bridge leaving La Plata

A ‘Pick Up Truck’ on the road into Kirksville

In Kirksville, that’s Taco Bell on the right. Fucking awesome bean and rice burritos. Even if it is an evil corporation built on the misery and suffering of animals and dedicated to feeding fatty processed foods to the uninformed masses blah blah blah…

Cheap too.

Dear current Newhaven Cabinet members/friends,

How much did I warn you NOT to go to the inter-school leadership and ecumenical whatever hillsong conference?

No seriously, I told you all like a hundred times about how horrible and uncomfortable and boring it would be, but did you listen to your elders? No. You’re big year twelves and you know better.

That was one of the few things I let myself get bullied into last year and I just wanted to save you from it and instill you with a little agency: you CAN say no to ‘compulsory’ activities. Serial gice.

Anyway I want to hear about it. In return I’ll tell you what it’s like living in the bible belt.

In other news, it got close to zero today (a -4C heat wave) and the sun melted all the snow, so as interesting as MO is, I didn’t take any pictures.

To tide you over, here’s a self portrait:

Friday will likely bring snow, which will give me a chance to test both my new camera and my pain threshold… -30C will quite literally freeze your face off.

Tomorrow’s entry, complete with pictures: ‘Kraft Dinner – a Cheez Odyssey’

Let me begin this entry by telling you how I woke up this morning:

Richard came in (at 2am, by my body’s whacked out calculations) – to tell me I needed to get up to go to Walmart (hahahaha) and to go see the kids – and opened with the words ‘It’s not that cold out, it’s only… let’s see… minus thirteen.’

…

Let me continue this entry with a description of what I am wearing, and how I feel:

Underwear, tights (school uniform remnants, does anyone remember when I used to wear girl clothes? ah…), pants, ankle socks, knees high socks, thick woolen winter socks, a sports bra, a singlet, a long sleeved shirt, a t shirt, a woolen jumper, a hoodie (hood UP), a scarf, a beanie and a pair of fingerless gloves.

I’m inside, and I’m fucking cold.

If hell existed it would not be the fiery furnace the world so loves imagining, it would be a La Platan winter.
But I think I’m whinging mainly because I find myself more amusing when I whinge. Just wait until I post pictures, it is so unbelievably beautiful here in this tiny, midwestern town. Bible belt or no, I love it here.

I’m not too sure how I’ll take the photos though, if I stand outside for too long shit starts freezing (breath, spit, clothes, eyeballs, MY SOUL).

Stay present,

Tae

Tonight I am standing on a precipice: on Monday I leave for the new world.

North America.

I’ll spend time in the US, I’ll spend time in Canada, I may even venture as far as Mexico. I’ll spend time with family, I’ll spend time with friends, I’ll spend time with friends of friends (and may I take this opportunity to thank the friends who have provided me with friends from their own private stash), and I’ll spend time on my lonesome

Luckily for me time, unlike money, is something I have in ample supply, and when I come back eleven whole months (at least) will have passed.

This means that when I return, all the people I know now will be different – all new. They’ll be dropouts and graduates and parents and psychologists and stoners and missionaries and travellers and scientists and students and dead and even newly born.

And – just because I like to keep up with the times – I’ll be equally new, equally different. I’ll have half a world and most of a year stored under my self inflicted hairstyle (will it still be ‘Dyke Lite’?, time will tell…), and hopefully a plethora of new ideas, attitudes and skills.

The return is almost as exciting as the trip.

So this is my travel blog. I’ll be updating this whenever I have both internet access and something interesting to say – partly because I’d like to have a record of this period of my life, but mostly because (as heartwarming as everyone’s cries of ‘Email me!’ were) I need time for important things like not being online. This is my attempt at being efficient and organised. Ha.

So bookmark it, bishes, but don’t be afraid to write to me as well, because even with my advanced and flawless social skills I rather suspect that at times i will be desperate for company, even electronic company.

I promise to write back.

Your best friend,

Tae