On a happier note, I do have to retract my statement about everything I make in the slow cooker tasting the same. I hadn’t tried cooking with 'no worries curries' spices in it yet. I will gush to anyone who’ll listen about how amazing the spices from these guys are, having made some highly tasty and delicious dinners using their spices before. And not only are their spices so aromatic and colourful and magical looking, but they are just the most super nice and cute people to boot. Too much! You can find them at the market near the Arts Centre every Sunday.
So last night before bed I put on a vat of butter chicken. Oh my, the little apartment was alive with exotic and fabulous scents from the pungent spices on the stove and my most favourite of all essential oils Ylang Ylang wafting from the oil burner. I felt very sophisticated. But then when I woke up early this morning to bag and tag all this curry for the freezer (I can’t eat it now, I need to save it to show my mad slow cooker skills to the husband-to-be when he is back in town) I must admit that sleepy eyes + bed hair + slippers on the wrong feet + the smell of curry that has been stewing for the last 10 hours and is now seeping out of the walls = a bit much for this little Bexy home all alone and up early on a cold and dark Monday morning.
Totally unrelated, but I've been thinking about this most strange and curious thing all day - went to see the 'Forever Barbie' exhibition at Fed Square yesterday to celebrate the 50th birthday of everyone’s favourite plastic fantastic bimbo deluxe (I’m sorry, I don’t care if she has had 108 careers, anyone who wears a giant stars and stripes ballgown when running for President is a total crazyfarm). Standing there like everything was totally fine, just like nothing was strange, as if she were only hanging out with her Barbie chums, was this lass:
Piccie from Entertainment Earth
Ummm, hello psych test? They’re coming! They’re coming!
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