Minor miracle

This is a bit of a cheaty post. 

Just had to note to the world that I've managed to get up, breakfasted, changed and ready for taxi to the airport by 6.30am. I know a gazillion people get up and are out the door by this time as a matter of course, but I'm a research fellow! One of the extremely good perks of being one is the flexible schedule (read: don't have to be in office before 9am).

Off to Canberra for the day to present at Asia Pacific Week at ANU (with Peter Jackson, Michelle Antoinette and Gaik Khoo). When I come back, it's back to ARC Discovery world - I kind of knew that trying to get two major proposals in in one round was mad, but I'm beginning to learn the true extent of that madness...

Keep away from me, wayside...

At least once a week, I tell myself. At least once a week...

I'm fairly sure I can maintain that kind of posting momentum for the moment, but after Bub #2 comes along, there are no guarantees. This blog never turned into a baby-blog (though it did have a moment or two), and for that I'm glad. There are many things I've learned and realised about myself since having E., and also negotiating having S. at home as primary carer. Some are major and change my entire outlook on life; many are petty and even involve slaying my phobia of things pink. I don't feel that the major things need to be aired publicly. Or at all. They're seismic shifts for me and how I think I want to live my life, but they aren't for everyone's consumption. As many of you regular bloggers will have seen/heard, 'slow blogging' is now the thing. It's an expected response to the kind of 'sweatshop blogging' that the NY Times identified. I must admit to agreeing avidly with all the points in the slow blog manifesto. I love finding blogs that have thoughtful and lucid language, and posts that show the author put in a bit of effort. I must also admit that, for all its rushing charm and addictiveness, I have cultivated a deepening scorn for Facebook applications/games and naff status statements. I bought the whole bleeping package when I first joined up, and responded to everyone's 'gifts' and even had my own (fluff)friend (RIP, Momo). Now, I ignore just about everything except what I'd classify as real communication (e.g. wall or inbox messages, sharing photos, notes and links with useful commentary). 

Moving on, as I didn't intend this post to be meta about blogging...

I've completed two major research fellowship applications in the past couple of months and the time that's involved in nutting out projects, budgets, staffing and on-costs, timelines and 'outputs' is staggering. It's a whole industry within academia that I find fascinating and appalling. The process of putting in an Australian Research Council (ARC) Discovery application does get easier each time, if only because you know what kind of cursed realm you're entering. Every tip at the windmill means that you learn a bit more jargon, cruise through a bit more of the application (having your track-record information up to date saves you a godawful amount of time, for e.g.). I'm thinking of putting together a grant application post for Academia 101. I can't say that I'm that much of an expert on grants in general, though. Perhaps for fellowships?

Things in short:

• Went to a kite festival last weekend in Royal Park and was disappointed that there weren't any humungous, over-the-top kites (like this giant dragon below). It was, however, a great day to see heaps of super-keen kids and families going crazy in the breezy sunshine and flying whatever they had from home. Next time, we're going to bring something for E. to scamper around with. 
  
  

[Image from gddweb.org/cave.html]


• I've recently become Reviews Editor with Asian Studies Review (ASR) in the new thematic area of 'Diasporic Asia'. Peter Jackson has just taken over as Editor and he's invited J.Lo and myself on board. It's exciting to be part of a bigger endeavour such as ASR, partly because it's such a huge association, and also because I think that having Asian Studies in Australia move in this direction so decisively is a good thing.

2009 it is

Total cliche I'm buying into today: Time does seem to fly ever faster as one gets older. This fact gets ever more disturbing as it becomes ever more true every year.

To try and follow through on at least one thing this year, and to set what will hopefully be a sterling precedent for 2009, I'm going to write about the things I said I'd write about in the last entry. Namely, these were:

1. Finally going to Gingerboy.
   
   What's the point of having special guests in town if you don't take them somewhere you've been wanting to try for ages? On the second day of his workshop, my colleagues and I took our guest to Gingerboy for lunch. It was a last minute booking (made within half an hour of hoping to turn up), and rather rushed because of post-lunch commitments. The restaurant, near where Madame Fang used to be in Crossley Street in the city, has had rave reviews and much hype so I was a bit apprehensive about what it'd be really like. The dining room was delightfully uncrowded when we first turned up, and we were seated at the back corner, which afforded a great view of the interior. This article in Wallpaper* gives you an idea of the 'look' - "disco chic shop front" (their words, not mine).
   
   To the most important thing: the food was excellent. Super tasty and aromatic blend of ingredients and beautiful plating up, large servings (quite good value for money, considering that this type of ambience and style lends itself to overpricing), perfect balance of spices and herbs. This latter point is important to me because I've had too many dishes where there's been a heavy-handedness with spices in general and it drowns out the part they play in enhancing food flavours. You just end up with a mouthful of chewy cardamom or coriander. The staff had a certain attitude which some might appreciate (we didn't) - sort of knowledgeable, sort of too-cool-for-school...
   
   Just for the record, we had:
   
   As starters - son in law eggs with chilli jam and Asian herbs, and steamed pork and garlic chive dumplings with coriander relish.
   
   As mains (shared) - Singapore noodles, coconut laksa and vegetables; roasted kingfish; deep-fried whole snapper; sweet and sour pork belly.
   
   It was really unfortunate that we had to rush the latter part of the meal. I loved the look of the desserts (esp sticky black rice, mango and jasmine tea ice cream...or the pear and cinnamon pancake, palm sugar syrup, red bean ice cream...next time!).
   
   
2. Dining coincidences at Kuni's Japanese Restaurant.
   
   On the first evening of the workshop, we all went out to dinner at my fave Japanese place in the city, Kuni's on Little Bourke Street. I've been there at least half a dozen times now and have enjoyed every visit. The ambience is spacious yet cosy, uncluttered and comfortable. We had a table of about a dozen and picked our way through a range of sashimi and sushi platters as well as a bunch of entrees (including my cold lotus root addiction). It's not like we had a raging late night but we would've all been there a good 2.5 hours. It was only when we were leaving that I realised a whole other table right next to us (of about a dozen people) was made up of many of my colleagues from work! They'd all retired there after a day of conference-ing. Of all the restaurants in Melb, eh?
   
   
3. And, last but never least, colleagues who make academia worthwhile.
   
   I'll be honest and say that I'm not sure what I meant by this now, in the dazzling light of a new year and with looming deadlines that I'm in denial about. I have a small handful of colleagues with whom I seem to be on the same page, and they have senses of humour, too (which is in desperately short supply these days, I've found). I've also recently met an 'online' buddy in person and that was a heartening thing. I have yet to have a bad experience meeting up with virtual buddies.
   

I fail at New Year's resolutions, so I normally resist making them. One I will have a stab at, however, is posting more regularly to this blog. I like casual blogging and not-blogging tends to feed on itself (i.e. the more you don't blog, the less you feel like blogging). I'd like a better record of what I do / think / rant about these days. My hardcopy journal is defunct, and has been for about three years now. I have snippets of journalling from when I travel and am (usually) waiting in airports for flights, but these isolated, moseying blocks don't really give much context.