Challenge #17: Owl in front of something famous (and preferably high up!)

Owling is the new planking. Or, at least, it was about a year ago.

I was first introduced to 'Owling' by some Essex boys I met in Nice. They had some incredible pictures of them striking the pose in front of famous (and high up) locations. I was immediately intrigued and tried a few of my own.

To complete an accurate 'Owl' you need to bend at the knees into a crouch and stretch your arms towards the ground with your palms flat, mimicking wings. This appears to be easy but I find staying in this position is not fun for those of us with 'older' knees... Hello early onset arthritis!

My first two owls for the year were in Dubrovnik on the famous wall. Walking along, I saw a hollow in one of the towers and commented to my friends that it'd be an amazing place for an owl if I could get up there. Miracles then occurred, as we found that we could actually get into the hole from behind.

Getting into position

Owl achieved!

My second owl. It was a long way down...

The trick is not to look down.

Challenge #2: Host a dinner party with at least 3 courses

For hundreds of years, women have been searching for the answer to the following question: What makes the perfect wife?

Is it keeping a tidy home? Is it being a brilliant lover? Is it being a loving mother? Is it cooking delectable food everyday? Is it looking flawless and youthful at all times?

Ermm... I don't think so!

As a feminist, being 'the perfect wife' has never entered my consciousness. It is something that I have never desired, or aspired to. In fact, the idea of keeping a perfect house and home is something that is beyond my realm of understanding.

All that being said, I think I came pretty close to being the perfect wife for my Friday the 13th Dinner Party.

I pondered my menu for some time, tweaking until I came up with a perfectly gruesome meal:

Rancid Red Onion & Ghastly Goat's Cheese Tart

Wretched Risotto Cakes & Shrieking Salad

Chilling Cheesecake

No need to clean if you're having a Friday the 13th party!

I spent the day organising my table, spreading cobwebs around (some real ones due to a lack of dusting in the corners of the house...) and designing name cards.

Ghostly Name Tags

Oh, and cooking. Although my menu was relatively simple, it just took me hours to organise all the bits and pieces. Risotto cakes are delicious but involve actually making risotto, then waiting for it to cool, then rolling it into balls, stuffing mozzarella into the centre and then crumbing. Oh, and THEN you can cook them in a vat of oil. Did I mention that my menu was not worried about our waistlines?

Nose job, anyone?

Soon my lovely guests arrived in varying forms of fancy dress. I was a witch, having bought my accessories from my favourite costume shop for only a few quid. Unfortunately, my broom was left forgotten in a corner as I was busy cooking up a storm.

Being a hostess is exhausting. It really is a juggling act. Cooking, topping up wine, talking... To the untrained eye this does not seem difficult, but I assure you it is. And of course I also managed to burn my kettle cord (an unforeseen expense) and set something on fire... Just shows my dedication and skill level, don't you think?

The first stages of my Chilling Cheesecake

Fire hazards aside, the evening was declared a success by everyone (nothing to do with the ever-flowing wine, I'm sure) and they all left full and a little bit tipsy.

Put the diets on hold!

After completing this challenge I now have a better clue as to what would make a 'perfect wife'. Not a tidy home, not a deliciously cooked meal, not impeccable dress sense and hair. These things are all so superficial, so outdated and just maintain traditional gender roles.

No, the perfect wife has a different set of skills in my mind. Excellent conversation, the ability to have fun and, most of all, the desire to do something nice for those you love, that is what makes a 'perfect wife'.


And a brand new kettle.

Challenge #47: Make someone a mixed tape

Remember the good old days when it took hours to make someone a mixed tape?

It was a gesture that showed true love. A willingness to sit with a stack of CDs or tapes, choosing tracks and then painstakingly recording each one onto a tape. You don't do that unless you REALLY care.

Admittedly, in the times of iTunes, this challenge now seems blindingly, stupidly easy. Dragging tracks into a new playlist on iTunes and then clicking 'burn to disc' isn't that hard.

However, nostalgia for the past caused me to put this onto my challenge list, just for the simple reason that people just don't make mixed tapes anymore, even though it's so easy you could almost do it by accident.

I've always loved getting mixed tapes (then CDs) and their absence from my life is a constant source of disappointment. My cousin used to send me them from London when we were teenagers and I still love the tracks she carefully selected for me. Music is personal, so when someone shares their loves with you, you have to sit up and listen. Literally.

All year I have been trying to find a reason to make a mixed tape and finally an opportunity popped its little head out and said, "Oi! You can do something awesome right here!"

I was talking to my friend, Shelly, and we were having one of our amazing, insightful, solve-the-world's-problems-over-a-drink conversations, sparked by my recent reading of How to Be a Woman by Caitlin Moran. Feminism is revived in this book and is an issue that we are both passionate about. After a long discussion on the book and all things feminist, Shelly admitted to me that her 'secret passion' was rap music. She told me how she felt she couldn't listen to it anymore because of how sexist it is.

Suddenly a light bulb flashed above my head - Aussie hip hop!

I don't really care for rap as a general rule; however, I always feel cool listening to some Aussie hip hop. Their lyrics always seem to speak to me, with their catchy, quick quips and analysis of Australian (and world) issues. A particular favourite of mine* celebrated the 'death' of John Howard's political career, without actually mentioning names.

As an English teacher, I always love things that require context and knowledge to understand their true meaning. It also helps that rappers (or MCs) use all those incredible sound devices that the Wilfred Owens of the world mastered all those years ago... Assonance, sibilance, alliteration, onomatopoeia - they are used in spades.

My brain made a quick connection between my enjoyment of something 'rap'-like and Shelly's disappointment in her favourite rap artists: I could solve her problem with a mixed CD of Aussie hip hop.

My feminist side has never been rankled by an Aussie hip hop song. If anything, they usually celebrate diversity and discuss gender-neutral issues that affect us all like the environment or political knobs (see previous reference to John Howard).  In fact, one of Australia's most prolific hip hop groups, The Hilltop Hoods, has recently released a song that speaks out against racism and homophobia.

And so, I gathered all my hip hop loves together into one playlist for my feminist friend and entitled it 'Feminist Friendly Hip Hop'. After some decoration, it was ready to be presented to her.

The finished product! 

Inside I wrote her this note: Because a feminist should never have to go without anything (especially music) because of some sexism.

Maybe I should send it to Caitlin Moran. Or, at least, tweet her about it.


* If you're interested in the song it's called "The King is Dead" by The Herd

Challenge #3: Attend a Secret Cinema event - Part One: Pre-mission Training

As soon as I found out about Secret Cinema (so secret that now I can't remember where I actually heard of it) I knew I wanted to participate in this fusion of film, undercover operatives, clues, costumes and acting.

For those of you who don't know, Secret Cinema really is exactly what it sounds like. You buy a ticket to see a film, but you don't know what film it is or where it will be held. And that's where the fun begins. The creators send you clues and you become part of the film. You spend your time trying to work out what film it is and why you're being asked to do these seemingly bizarre things. It's the ultimate film experience, where you are slowly sucked into the world of the film.

The Build-Up

After buying my tickets, I waited impatiently for my first instructions. At first I thought that Secret Cinema genuinely had joined forces with another company called Brave New Ventures. After watching their vague video I started to get suspicious: was this just a way of keeping the group going through sponsorship or was it all part of the intrigue?

Soon I had my answer - we were all asked to choose a job from a list including ore analyst, contamination officer and data analyst. Then we had to change our job status on Facebook and our profile picture, so that other employees could recognise us. (This is part of the brilliance of Secret Cinema, their use of social media to promote their cause and generate enthusiasm. However, it does immediately exclude anyone who doesn't have Facebook.)

I chose my job, Contamination Officer - I figured if there was an 'outbreak' I'd prefer to be on the outside, stopping it from spreading - and I was ready for my first mission: Physical Conditioning.

The uniform that Contamination Officers are expected to wear
(Image from Brave New Ventures website)

It wasn't really a massive surprise when Physical Condititioning involved, well, physical conditioning. We assembled at Southbank, were given t-shirts and then participated in what must have looked like mass-hysteria. We did strange movements, similar to those in that song 'Let's Do the TimeWarp Again'. And then, we ran.

Waiting patiently for instructions

Being part of a large, homogenous crowd is quite a strange feeling. You do feel pulled along with the group, I can see how people start to focus on being a team member, rather than an individual. I assume this is perfect for whatever 'mission' our new employer (BNV) has in store for us.
We dashed around Southbank, with people staring and laughing as we chanted 'Brave New Ventures'. There was a hilarious moment when a woman asked us, 'What is Brave New Ventures?' and we all replied, simultanteously 'We don't know!'

Exhausted after our intensive training, and still none the wiser about the film!

After completing my first mission, I was keen for another taste. I recieved word that I needed to choose a mission and email by 6pm. I chose Psychological and Emotional Training because it's just right up my alley, I cited my experience with teenagers as making me perfect for the job as I am now 'an expert in psychological warfare'.
 

Receiving our mission briefing outside the Planetarium.
(Photograph from Secret Cinema Facebook page)

Soon I found myself hiking to the Planetarium next to the Royal Observatory in Greenwich. Again we were given shirts and had our pictures taken with our special item we couldn't live without for the mission. The training involved two sections. The first was a live teleconference between the doctor in charge at the deployment location (clearly in space somewhere) and the head psychologist at BNV. He was handsome, persuasive and, above all, creepy. Completely focused on completing the mission, he would do anything, even if that involved putting employees on drugs to keep them in check. The doctor seemed to dislike him and asked to come home early. Her request was laughed off and she didn't look happy! The acting was so convincing that I kept forgetting that it wasn't real.

Listening to the teleconference so that we understand the importance of Psychological Training.
(Photograph from Secret Cinema Facebook Page)

The second section was a lecture about how to use body language to manipulate employees. It seemed pretty well researched (although nothing I haven't taught my own students about body language and how we communicate). What I again noticed was this drive to complete the mission at all costs, including manipulating those around you.

Watching demonstrations of non-verbal communication carefully so that we can use the techniques on our subordinates!
(Photography from Secret Cinema Facebook Page)

So, before my 'deployment', my theory was that it's a space film, about a corporation exploring space so that the human race can settle there.

 Full debriefing will be completed in the next blog entry... So for now... Tell no one...

Challenge #50: Hire a Barclays Bike

Hiring a Barclays Bike is an expected excursion for any tourist in London. I'm not really a tourist anymore, but hiring a bike still seemed like a good idea one sunny Sunday. 

Locals in the know call these 'Boris Bikes', in honour of the mayor of London, Boris Johnson, who supposedly came up with the idea. Or, at least, he bankrolled it. In reality, Ken Livingstone proposed the idea back in 2008. 

Bike at the ready!

Not that any of that matters in the slightest for my purposes. 

Always one for helping the environment, I am all for these bikes. They're all around the city in convenient places and they're really cheap to hire. It's all pretty foolproof. Well, until you try to ride through crowds or through Jubilee preparations outside Buckingham Palace...

We found our bikes near Westminster using the App my friend, Ash, had downloaded on his phone. Useful! After watching Sarah figure out the hiring process, we put in our credit cards, received our codes and chose our bikes. 

Cruising around London on a bike is somewhat daunting. There are all those crazy London taxis and insane central traffic. Not to mention road works. All of this does not make for a safe journey when coupled with the fact that I have absolutely no sense of balance or coordination. 

In fact, by the end of the ride my new nickname was 'Wobbles', due to the fact that whenever I would slow down I would wobble from side to side and nearly fall off. And I used to be such a good rider when I was little!

We ran into strife around Buckingham Palace where they were setting up for the Jubilee. Told off by guards, we wheeled our bikes to Green Park, only to find that there was 'No Cycling' in this part of the park. Ever the group of rebels, we rode on anyway. 

No Cycling

The verdict? Boris, Barclays... Whatever you call them, these bikes rock! The only snag is waiting for a sunny day to make the most of them... 

Challenge #31: Visit a different country for the weekend

Finally, I understand the concept of a 'mini-break'.

I first discovered this term while reading 'Bridget Jones' Diary', a novel I always bring out whenever I feel that my life needs some improvement. I figure that if Bridget can do it, then so can I. She's completely hopeless, after all. So I translate that to mean that there must be hope for all of us.

Bridget is obsessed with the idea of going on a mini-break with her version of Mr Wickham, Daniel. She claims that a mini-break must mean true love.

With this in mind, I booked flights to visit my friends while they were in Berlin. I figured that if Bridget could view a mini-break as a sign of true love, then so could I. Who said true love couldn't mean true friendship?

During what was not my wisest hour, I decided to forgo the usual rush from work on a Friday afternoon (and save the $20 for a hostel bed) and leave on Saturday morning. Early. I mean, really early. When you book a flight for 6:30am you forget the fact that you actually have to be there BEFORE that time.

So, on the morning in question, I got up at 3:30am to catch my 4am train to Gatwick Airport. The advantage of this ungodly hour is... Well, none. The sun hasn't come up and you feel like you're walking through a fog, only that fog is in your head. Although my total exhaustion from having 4 hours sleep did mean I crashed out on the plane. Thank god for window seats.

I was excited as my plane touched down in Berlin. Not only was I revisiting a city I adore - with its soul-destroying, yet fascinating, history, and its cool culture - but I was going to see my favourite married couple for the first time in 16 months. I love that 'I can't believe this is happening' feeling I frequently get while living in London. Those moments where you feel proud of yourself for getting off your bum and actually making something incredible happen in your otherwise run-of-the-mill life. Most of Europe gives me that feeling.

Berlin did not disappoint, not that I expected it to. I had already fallen for it a year previously, so I felt like I was returning to an old friend. As I tried to figure out which bus to take to get to my hostel, the kindly German bus driver wrote instructions for me on my page, while talking to me in German.

I noticed very quickly why I love Berlin: People smile there. I love London, it's my home, but people look at you strangely if you smile at them, so no one bothers. In Berlin, people seemed so much more relaxed and friendly. And this is a city that was divided by opposing political ideologies pretty much yesterday in the grand scheme of history. I immediately felt relaxed and safe in Berlin's graffiti covered streets.

Graffiti doesn't necessarily have to make sense, right? Maybe there's some
deep meaning here...

One of the bittersweet upsides to living away from family and friends is the moments when you actually get to see them. You appreciate every single second, and you are constantly reminded of why you love them. My weekend with the Bolligs was no different. We laughed, we reminisced and we swapped Europe stories. These are the moments that life is all about. Falling in love with your friends all over again.

Does this really need a caption?

TV Tower. Meh.

We roamed the Berlin streets and had a closer look at the Reichstag. I wanted to go in, as I missed it last time, but found you had to book two days in advance. So, we continued our wanderings around the city, taking in the Brandenburg Gate and the famous TV tower.

We had tickets to the ballet and I enjoyed watching the incredible skill that it requires. Although, to be frank, I spent most of the time whispering comments about the male dancers' crotches. When it finished they took so many bows I thought I was going to miss my flight - the following night.

Me and a segment of the wall. I managed to restrain myself
from buying one of the 'pieces' on sale...

The Sunday was spent wandering around again, taking in The Wall, the Jewish Memorial and the Topography of Terror. Berlin manages to present its terrible, horrific past in such a precise and honest manner. There is no shying away from the truth. They present it and admit it happened. I found my respect for the German people growing and growing.

To finish my weekend in Berlin, I did what I went there to do: I had a kebab. There is nothing quite like a Berlin kebab. If you don't believe me, go there and try one. Preferably from a booth in the middle of one of the boulevards, like the one that leads up to the Brandenburg Gate.

The best kebab in the world. Seriously.

After a weekend of friendship, history, ballet, kebabs and smiling, I left my friends on a train platform and retraced my steps back. Airport, plane, airport, immigration, train, home. I collapsed on my bed, knowing I had completed another challenge and knowing that I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

But not on a 6:30am flight.

Challenge #1: Read Great Expectations

I always approach classic literature with a hint of skepticism, like I'm waiting for this world famous author to screw up somehow. I'm not really sure where this comes from, perhaps it's fear. Fear that I won't understand, that it will go over my head and I will be left feeling powerless under the weight of literary genius.

This feeling continues, even though I am constantly proven wrong. Every classic I've read has made me realise why it's a classic (well, except for The Great Gatsby, but maybe I was just too young for that one). I guess those literature professors (or whoever deems these novels to be classics) know what they're talking about.

That being said, I did find Great Expectations a hard slog, although I'm still figuring out why. It wasn't the language - I enjoyed his writing style and that time-traveller feeling you get from reading from the past. The story is captivating, the characters well-developed (I particularly loved Wemmick, with his constant desire to keep his work life and private life separate. And the fact that his father is just referred to as 'The Aged'). I think my major problem was a modern day conundrum: I watched the modern TV version first.

I made a classic blunder, although who can really resist anything on the BBC?? In fact, watching the TV mini-series inspired me to read the classic in the first place. But it ruined the mystery of the novel. I knew what was going to happen to Pip, Estella and dear Joe. The secret behind Pip's Great Expectations and his delusion that Estella was intended for him was no secret for me. That was why I found it so hard to pull the novel closer to me, to get into that excited reading-frenzy that great novels cause. Where you waste away hours in another world and when you emerge you're slightly surprised that the characters aren't standing in front of you. I already knew what was going to happen. All the suspense was spent before I even read the first page.

Still, I guess that doesn't matter as the end result is the same: I have finished reading Great Expectations. I can cross another classic off my list. I am acquainted with Mr Dickens and I find him quite satisfying, thank you very much. He can remain in the classic category, as far as I'm concerned.