Just a Little Pedantic.

So my apartment was invaded again last weekend when my niece PG came for another sleepover.

I don't know how she does it when she's here for one night only, but it's like a Tasmanian Devil has ripped through my place.

Every perfume bottle is sniffed and the various merits of each discussed, each pair of shoes I own are tried on by my very own Cinderella, my kitchen is coated in flour dust and my carpet is liberally strewn with DVDs.

This may be normal 6 year old activity, but PG is not without her little quirks.

I came back into my place after dropping her home (120km round trip - her parents should be MUCH nicer to me) to find all of my perfume bottles lined up in height order. And found all of my shoes arranged not just in colour order, but also in the all-important 'height of heel' within those colours.

So my question this evening is this: just out of sheer curiosity, is it at all possible for a niece or nephew inherit any traits of people who aren't their parents or grandparents? Say, in a totally random example, the traits of an aunt?

Whatever. I've no idea what you're talking about.

Blood Will Out.

I'm writing this sitting on one side of my couch. My five year (and 11 months, she'd want me to clarify) old niece PG is perched on the other, engrossed in our umpteenth screening of 'Beauty of the Beast'.

I adore PG - she's hysterically funny when she least means to be, and what a drama queen! I'm spending a precious Saturday night in hibernation for one of our regular sleepovers, but her commentary on this DVD is entertainment enough.

The highlights for me, without a doubt, have been:

Intro V/O: "..For who could truly ever love a Beast?"

PG: "Hasn't he watched this movie yet? Doesn't he know how it ends?"

Beauty & Beast on the sweeping balcony, swept up in a romantic moment.

PG: "Uh oh. Is he going to push her off the edge?"

So while I understand that a lot of people are concerned with the rise of 'princess culture' and its impact on young children, and in particular little girls, I don't foresee a time when I'll hesitate before popping a Disney movie in the DVD player.

It appears as though the cynicism which runs deep in my family certainly hasn't skipped a generation. 

Tis the Season.

I've no idea how it happens - I'm presuming though that it's one of those 'chicken-and-the-egg scenarios' - but Christmas always seems to catch me at my lowest point. It's always the day of the year when I'm guaranteed to be ill, homesick, lonely, exhausted or anxious.

But then Boxing Day! I've found the cure for what ails me - going out for a long beer garden session with a good friend, and laughing a lot.

Now I just have to recruit friends for a Christmas Eve session next year, and then I'll have the perfect solution to my Christmas alaise.

Solved!

A New Spin on an Old Favourite.

'Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the house
Not a creature was stirring
Except for the highly caffeinated Redhead who had stupidly offered to host her family for brunch and who will be cleaning and cooking like a crazy person until 2am Christmas morning.

And people say I don't have the Christmas spirit!

The Remains of the Day.

I went to a dear friend's baby shower yesterday, in possibly the most amazing house I've seen outside of the design blogs and magazines I read cover to cover.

And being quite the baby shower veteran, I was pleasantly surprised to find that it was a low-key yet elegant affair where everyone was asked to 'bring a plate' (I LOVE that this phrase is making a resurgence!). No life-sized papier mache storks here!

Being as I am - there's no other term for it - monumentally slack, I made a Peppermint Crisp Slice. Possibly the slice with the best actual work involved:compliments ratio, this is of course perfect for the lazy weekend Redhead.

Wanting to make it look more involved that it actually was, I trimmed all the dodgy edges and placed the nice neat squares in some cute patty papers.

Which of course left me with quite a bit of unattractive but still massively tasty choc-pepperminty goodness.

I wish I could say that this had been the sum total of what was left behind.

A healthy person would have virtuously tipped these into the bin. A healthy person would have turned these into an unofficial Munchies Monday offering.

Fortunately for me, I've never claimed to be a healthy person. And my Sunday lunch may or may not have been comprised solely of a cup of tea and a baking tray of Peppermint Crisp margins.

I'll never tell.

My Litmus Test.

Nothing like running into a friend of your ex to make you realise that you're over them.

Or, more specifically, nothing like listening to that friend talk about said ex and realising that instead of agonising "Oh god, please don't let him have someone new", what's running through your mind is "Oh god, he can't possibly have found someone new before I have".

That possibly made more sense in my head.

The Danger Within.

Within my freezer, that is.