Are you for Siri?

This week’s food for thought… my new friend Siri

A combination of drunken antics and a growing sense of animosity toward pre paid phones led me to make a new friend this week. Her name is Siri…just to clarify it’s not Tom Cruise’s daughter as I saw someone on Facebook mistake her for, that poor bitch’s name is Suri.

According to the ‘techsperts’ Siri is “the voice-activated ‘personal assistant’ that is a talkative tool that helps schedule appointments, send and receive messages and perform any number of other routine tasks.”

 

Initially I was fairly blasé toward the idea of this ‘sci-fi dream of a computer that talks back in a robotic female voice’, but it wasn’t long until I quickly found myself quizzing Siri on the meaning of life, asking for information on the weather – even informing me whether or not I needed a rain coat, enquiring how many calories can be found in an apple and the rounding out with a joke she threw in about 2 iphones. I then found myself hurling abuse at her just to see if I could make her crack; I couldn’t. 

In my quest to find out what else Siri has to say, I stumbled across a Tumblr blog called, ‘Shit that Siri Says’ on which people post their odd question-and-answer exchanges with the app. Among some of its more creative entries:

While Siri can be snide and is unable to tell me the meaning of life (who can really?), she can sure help me with other routine mundane tasks and given time I think she will one day hold the ultimate answer (and in my opinion the meaning of life) – how do you cure a hang over?

Until such a time, I think we will leave it there for tonight. Hang on I'll just check with Siri...

Bye for now,

Cuttsy

Joggers nipple

This week’s food for thought… lactating nipples

My chafing is such a bitch, it’s like someone razored me in my boobies”

-       Sean Tolkey, The Big C

I had to laugh when watching an episode of the Big C last night when Sean’s attempt to run a half marathon was cut short because of some excruciating fabric friction in the nipple area. I felt like saying, don’t worry Sean you are not alone.

 Last week I found myself asking a mates girlfriend a question I never thought I would find myself asking, and given the look on her face, probably one she never thought she would have to answer. ‘Can I borrow some paw paw cream, my nipples are so dry’? Thankfully she was very obliging.

Where’s he going with this you might be thinking. Well, amongst a myriad of strange bodily problems that I seem to be plagued with, joggers nipple is another one (in other words bleeding nipples). Just to clarify, they aren’t dripping away at all hours of the day, only when I go running. I first learnt I was suffering from this condition  (as I’m now calling it) when I went for my first 10km run. I came bounding through the door expecting a round of congratulations from housemate at the time, only for her to ask me why my white singlet had two large brown stains in the nipple area, looking as though someone had thrown choc milk at me. I kind of wish they had.

In an attempt to rid myself of this problem I decided when holiday in Thailand some time soon after, I would put band-aids over them to avoid this embarrassing moment from reoccurring. Problem solved I said to myself. Only I forgot I had put them on and after finishing a run in the hotel gym I thought to myself, what better way to cool off than a dip in the swimming pool. Off goes the shirt and as I enter the water I can’t help but notice some strange looks from fellow hotel guests. Probably just admiring my freestyle stroke I thought. Thinking nothing of it I exit the water, towel adorned around my neck, shirt still off and I make my way through the hotel back to my room. Its only when I entered the bathroom that I realized that I hadn’t taken the band-aids off when swimming and it suddenly dawned on me that they weren’t in awe of my bilateral breathing abilities, instead thinking why on earth does this idiot have two band-aids in the shape of a cross on each of his nipples. I’m surprised I didn’t go in to cardiac arrest as I ripped them and shrieked in horror.

Do you suffer from jogger’s nipple? Or am I the only one, along with breast-feeding mothers. So if you do see me running, don’t be alarmed, I haven’t been slashed across the chest. Or on an evening out if you find me rummaging through your drawers or looking very attentively in your bag, I’m not stealing, simply trying to catch a glimpse of that magic red cream and hoping for a bit of relief.

Bye for now,

Cuttsy

I'm in London still

This weeks food for thought… one year on

It is a bittersweet feeling to know one year ago I had spent my first night at the University of Hertforshire, in a single bed adorned with sheets made out of industrial sandpaper and a mattress that contoured with the shape of my body. With jet lag neatly in tow, I vividly recall its side effects and the urge I felt to slip in to my skins and go for a run at 5am to explore the town site that would become my home for the next 6 months. After acquainting myself with the likes of ASDA and the Galleria, the realisation dawned on me that Hatfield wasn’t exactly the heartbeat of the motherland, nor was it the new ‘London’ as splashed about on a number of billboards.

Looking back those first few days were a combination of utter excitement and sheer terror. For some unapparent reason it hadn’t really dawned on me just how far I had removed myself from the familiar.  I’d been so preoccupied in the weeks leading up to leaving Oz that I hadn’t really considered the scale of condensing my life in to 24 kilograms of luggage and moving half way across the world where I did not know a single sole. I was definitely wading in unfamiliar waters. Facing the very real prospect of spending the next six months of my life without any friends I remember saying to myself as I wandered over to my first international students seminar “have you just made the biggest mistake of your life?” Ironically enough it was here and over the course of the week that followed where I would meet the people I would spend every day with for the next six months. Many of who became very close friends, and still are. What an adventure we shared! My only regret is that we didn't stay longer.

For anyone considering the prospect of exchange, I couldn’t urge you enough. It really was a life-changing experience, from learning a new culture, to making new friends from diverse ethnic and national backgrounds. In the end you gain a better appreciation of other cultures, as well as your own.

So here’s to England - what an escapade!

Bye for now

Cuttsy

Switching off from social networking

This weeks food for thought – could you switch off from Facebook?

We've truly reached a new level of technological time wasting, and it's called Facebook. I often wonder if our fascination with this social networking phenomenon is doing more harm than good. Is Facebook a social utility that helps us to communicate more efficiently with family and friends, or just a big fat time waster? 

Without doubt Facebook has become part of my habitual routine. It seems to be set up to try and draw you in and spend as much time on it as possible. Too often I find myself steering away from uni work and setting aside a break period so I can login and read the latest edition of status updates, wall posts and cringe at unflattering photos I’ve been tagged in. The problem is I become so absorbed that my 15-minute breaks turn in to an hour.

I’d hate to think how much time I have spent on Facebook over the years. I will admit I am a fairly avid user. While I won’t give up social opportunities to use Facebook, I will sometimes pull the iphone out on an evening out and have a quick squizzie. We’re really no different to drug users – its an addiction what ever way you look at it. Too often we are scampering around looking for an internet connection so we can get our next hit.

The reality of my addiction surfaced months ago when a mate of mine told me I spent too much time on there. He quizzed me on the profile pictures and recent status updates of a handbook of people. All of which I answered correctly. But does this make me a better friend? Or just someone that has perused their wall a little too much?

This friend deactivated his account last week. He’s been raving about how much more productive he has become without the thought of Facebook in the back of his mind ever since. While I congratulate his efforts of breaking the habit, I don’t know if I could be out of the loop. It’s this realisation that scares me a little. Why am I so dependent on something that prior to late 2008 I never used? I managed to hold a vast array of full functional friendships, where communication followed fairly freely without a wall, status updates and tagged photos.

But its not all grim, if you too can’t possibly fathom the idea of switching off, I read an interesting article today which provides some handy tips to avoid wasting too much time on ‘the book’. Take note of the following:

1)   Ignore the requests

2)   Stop the constant emails

3)   Avoid games and third party applications

4)   Go offline chat

Or if none of the above works, just quit Facebook all together. I hear Google+ is the new next big thing. Who needs 500 million friends anyway?

Bye for now, 

Cuttsy

R.I.P iPhone

This week’s food for thought – obsessive iPhone love.

In a ‘slightly’ intoxicated state last night my iPhone took a dive into a puddle of water. In a more sober condition this morning, I’ve learnt apple products are not waterproof and the seriousness of the situation is starting to dawn on me. Daunted at the prospect of having to part with it, even the idea of having to return to a normal phone is a frightening indication of just how reliant I am on it. But it got me thinking, I survived the first 19 years of my life without one and so did the rest of civilisation, surely life would go on in without it… wouldn’t it?

A recent study showed that iPhone users would give up their toothbrushes before their devices! What does that mean? Either iPhone users care less about personal hygiene or they really love their iPhone. I have a feeling it’s the latter. Ironically, I was having this discussion with a friend yesterday, whose iPhone has become an extension of his right arm. I quizzed him on the prospect of giving it up and he shot me a look like I’d just asked him for a vital organ. He told me if would be impractical to part ways with it.

He made a valid point. Without running the risk of sounding like a hypocrite, the iPhone has saved me on a number of occasions. I was in Freedom recently and needed to transfer more money on to my credit card. So I just whipped out the iPhone right there at the counter and in a matter of moments it was done and the transaction was processed. It also made travelling in Europe a breeze.

But is it a vital necessity?

While YES it has made everyday life a little easier in some regards, I question whether we really need access to facebook at the touch of a finger swipe? Or the ability to send drunk hey tell messages? Or access to internet banking so we can transfer funds when we need another 10 drinks and a little extra for a kebab and taxi ride home?  And access to maps, have we forgotten about a little thing called a UBD?

Are you in love with your iPhone? Do you think you could sustain a normal life without one? If I’m being honest, I don’t know if I can.

Bye for now.

Cuttsy

Poor

This week’s food for thought… dwindling finances

$30.33 – my current bank balance. I think to myself, surely the NAB has made a mistake. But as I scan through an 8-page account summary documenting my spending, I soon see an arising pattern. The reoccurrence of Liquor Barons Carlisle, Swan Taxi’s and Mc Donalds East Victoria Park provide some indication of why I don’t have a brass razoo in both my wallet and bank account. I’ve reached an all time low, having had more savings when I endured child labour as a budding 15-year junior at Eagle Boys.

With the deposits being largely outweighed by the withdrawals, I ask myself – what do you actually have to show for my $30 and 33 cents? Apart from a delicious hang over that derails my day and text messages detailing my deplorable antics from the previous night, absolutely nothing!

Even worse is that every time I pick up the phone and call my folks, I seem to be using the opening liner “I need a favour”, this is followed by a long awkward silence, coupled with a cringe worthy response of “what would that be?". I can almost hear it in their voices – “oh he needs money again”. Their fed up with this ongoing tirade of I need $400 to go skydiving, or I need money for the weekend so I can go on a wine tour in Margaret River.

Given that I cannot possibly fathom surviving on such a meagre amount, I think this is an indication that I should try and curb my spending and stay clear of your Swan Taxi’s, Mc Donalds East Victoria Park and Liquor Barons Carlise… that or at least try First Choice.

So if you see me lining up for a free sausage sizzle at Curtin, or siphoning fuel in a car park, don’t be alarmed, I’m simply trying to save a few dollars here and there and put my remaining $30.33 to good use.

So this is student living…

Bye for now

Cuttsy

Pricey ole Perth!

This week’s food for thought… is Perth becoming too expensive?

It came as no surprise to me that Perth was recently found to be the 13^th most expensive city in the world to live in. Making it 25 percent dearer than New York.

Our inflated food and drink prices led to a fairly unflattering review by the travel guide bible, Lonely Planet. Critiqued as having an overpriced dining culture and a cashed up bogan night life, the guide stated that where many of Australia’s other state capitals might have a handful of top restaurants charging over $40 for a main, in Perth those prices are fast becoming a norm for any establishment that considers itself above average.

I’d argue this is fairly accurate. While I am all for paying that little bit extra for a swanky dining experience, I’d hardly call the prices at a place like Siennas – which has an indoor childrens playground - reasonable.

What is also becoming increasingly prevalent is the reliance and use of the word 'gourmet'. Café/Restaurant owners seem to be under some delirious notion that by placing this adjective in front of their menu items, it warrants them to charge through the roof. This is a common occurrence amongst the sudden surge in burger cafes that are springing up around the city. I was slogged 48 dollars for two burgers, chips (about eight of them) and two waters when I had lunch with my sister the other day.   

Enjoying a reasonably priced meal in the UK

It is almost ironic that last year when I told people I was moving to the motherland (England), they lectured me on just how expensive it would be. When in actual fact it was the complete opposite. I would often walk the aisles of the supermarket in awe of just how cheap alcohol was. Eighteen pounds for a one-litre bottle of vokda for crying out loud! That equates to roughly $27. I have fond memories of one-pound shots and paying twenty Euros ($26) for four redbull vodkas in Amsterdam.  Needless to say I endured a period of readjustment when I returned to Australia and quickly realised that I couldn’t afford to drink like I had while I was away. One night in particular springs to mind, where I spent $387 dollars in a period of about four hours in Subiaco. My bank statement read very impressively the next day. Note to self: don’t shout shots!

It comes as no great mystery as to why so many Australian’s are flocking in droves overseas; considering it’s cheaper to fly to Bali than within the state. This rising cost is obviously a drawback for Australian tourism. And given the cost of alcohol in this country, our animalistic type behaviour in duty free, where we stock up on as much alcohol as we are permitted, is fairly warranted I’d say.

Instead of throwing my junk mail out I might have to start scouting for the specials to find myself a few savings. That way I can afford myself at least one red bull vodka when I’m next out.

Do you think the Perth is becoming increasingly more expensive? Do you have to invest in an entertainment book so that you too can afford a reasonably priced meal – one that doesn’t involve a children's playground or a value meal?

Bye for now,

Cuttsy