Ain't Nuthin' Desperate About This Housewife

So this week, we backwards people down in Australia are finally getting the latest seasons of all the hot shows, which they save until after the holidays (which in true Australian fashion aren't officially over until Australia Day on the 26th). While I was originally was irritated that I'd have to wait an extra 4 months to watch my "stories", everyone obeyed the order not to leak any surprises about my favorites like Lost and Desperate Housewives, and I'm really happy that they don't do that thing like in the US where there are new episodes for a month and then reruns of those episodes for the next month. Sweeps are stupid. So the only show that we aren't getting now is the second season of Project Runway (they're just catching up and showing the first season now), I suppose I can wait for that bundle of awesomeness for just a few extra months.

In the meantime, I realized that with my TV shows and me working and all, my life is starting to resemble the one I had in NY, except with far more beer and better weather. So I thought I'd take a chance to reflect on the things I've learned about myself over the past few months of relaxation...

I can cook! Now don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those people who's cooking skills previously consisted of mac and cheese and instant ravioli. But due to my fear of screwing meals up, I generally stuck to pasta dishes and the occasional roast chicken. However with 5 months of nothing in particular to do and the kitchen/apartment to myself, I got a little experimental, and have since cooked things like Moroccan lamb stir fries, chicken cacciatore, beef stir fries, and even some lemon sage chicken recipe that I learned off of some dude on the telly. The great thing about cooking is that you only need to really learn two of three things, and people will think you're a genius in the kitchen. Suckers.

I can do laundry! As I believe I've mentioned here before, I hadn't done my own laundry since some point in college. So when I moved into this apartment and found that we had a washer and dryer en suite, I was actually a little disappointed (and scared) because I realized that I no longer had any excuse to pay someone else to do my laundry for me. And guess what? It's not that bad. I know this sounds like not much of a revelation, but it's kind of huge for me. Other than the filipina woman I have in to actually fold the clothes afterwards (kidding!), the process really isn't that bad. And for those familiar with my formerly filthy Manhattan portage messenger bag (man bag, if we're being honest), it is now sparkling clean like the day it was stitched together by Malaysian immigrants in a sweatshop in New York. Yay!

I can iron! And it fucking sucks. Seriously, who does their own ironing? So I did it once when I had to iron all my shirts for my first week of work, and it blows, and I have since located a dry cleaner in my neighborhood who can do it for me, albeit at twice as much as I used to pay in Brooklyn. But that's what I get for moving to a "posh" (read: stuckup) area, I suppose.

I like Oprah! Who knew. I seriously had NEVER watched an episode of Oprah before I moved down here, but a couple of cloudy days when I couldn't head to the beach and I quickly discovered that this show is awesome and she seems like a cool chick. What is it that's so gratifying about seeing her give stuff away??


Ah well, those days are over. But I think it's important that I value those lessons, even if I go back to my pasta dishes, no Oprah, and having Koreans handle my work shirts. (wow this hasn't been a great blog post for Asians, has it??)

*I feel I should also mention that I attempted to graft my face onto that housewife's body, and it just looked really creepy and inappropriate, even compared to my previous attempts at graphic art.