Sit down (preferably in an Ikea chair), eat some bacon and get comfy, this is a biggie.

So I went and saw Bon Iver Thursday night. It was at an outside theatre, which meant we would be picnic-ing it up with wine and cheese. I had to smuggle a bottle of wine down my pants and hide it under my poncho. I'm a class act, I know. The great thing about wearing a neck brace is that no one will question you if you are walking like you have a cold bottle of wine shoved down your jeans, because all they will be thinking is "Oh poor girl with the neck brace, she's got a limp, must've been a car accident". BOOM! Guess who looks like the idiot now? The five of us ended up devouring our picnic feast which included Italian prosciutto, strawberries, cheese, Sarah Kenny's guacamole (the bomb), sweet potato chips, and multiple bottles of wine. Once Bon Iver got on stage though, we forgot about everything else. Apart from the wine.
You know that feeling when something or someone literally can just reach inside your soul and hold on to it so tight you have no way of ever escaping its grips? That might sound a bit dramatic and slightly violent, but that's what the music of Bon Iver does to me. Even as a very very amateur writer (obviously), I feel that my words are insufficient to describe how fucking amazing it was. So just go listen to their music. Now.
Oh and while I was at Bon Iver, my Dad did get to meet Anthony Bourdain. Seriously. What the hell.

Everyone was jealous. Apart from the people smoking weed
behind us, they probably were pretty happy.
My friend Tina made me these freaking awesome bacon wrapped dates the other day, so I decided they would be the perfect treat for Friday night's games WOD at the gym. Oh man, I know I go on about bacon a lot. But when it's wrapped around dates, I actually go weak at the knees. Plus then that night a group of us went out for pho. The last time I had pho was when I was in Hanoi on a sidewalk sitting on a blue plastic chair that was so low to the ground my knees were up to my ears, eating out of a bowl twice the size of my head. God I loved it. Anyway, this pho was pretty darn good. So good actually, that I decided to get it all over my neck brace. Just to update you, the foods that I can now claim that have been on my neck brace are the following: honey, mayonnaise, paleo pudding, fish pie and pho. You'd think I'd get better at this whole eating thing, but no. I had this big mouthful of noodles and then my friend Jonathon said something that cracked me up and I just blurted out noodles all over the place. I was a hot mess. But then I noticed everyone was just laughing at me, and not with me, which is never a good sign. So I was trying to figure out what the problem was, and then it became apparent when people started taking photos of me. I had noodles hanging off my neck brace. As I said, class act. Oh and there was even a sneaky noodle on my arm. Don't even ask me how that got there.

Bacon wrapped dates.
Does anyone ever come up with epiphanies when they're on public transport? Sometimes I really enjoy the 20 minute train ride into the city, just so I can sit in one spot, listen to music and think about what the shit I'm doing with my life. So I've decided that maybe naturopathy isn't what I want to be doing? I really like the idea of being a Paleo kitchen goddess. Understated, I know. Firstly, I need to start proper cooking. And I mean, food styling, cutting skills and making up my own original recipes instead of just tweaking other people's. Secondly, I want to have a paleo recipe website. Because I can only find three out there that I actually like, so there's a bit of a niche in the market. Or that's what I keep telling myself anyway. Thirdly, I want to open up a meat bar. Yes, you heard me right. A mother freaking meat bar. I saw this guy wearing a hat the other day that just said 'MEAT' on it. It was awesome. I was going to try and take a stealthy photo of it but thought that was just a bit too creepy, even for me. But we all love meat. Apart from you vegetarians and vegans out there who probably don't read this anyway so I guess you don't count in my scheme to take over the world with my meat bar. To get to the point here, meat is great. And what is also great? Alcohol. Put the two together and you have a winning combination. But seriously, I've never seen a bar in Melbourne, where you can go and drink and also order tapas style dishes that are focused around meat. This is totally happening people. Zac and I brainstormed the whole night about what the place would look like, how it'd be set up, what would be on the menu (my Dad's homemade beef jerky, pulled pork with raspberry BBQ sauce, ribs) and of course, the name. I'm a bit hesitant to reveal the name because I don't want any of you stealing my awesome idea. But I trust you (even you random two people in Russia reading this, yeah I see you!). It'll be called "Hunter Gatherer". If you didn't just lose your shit, you can lose it now. I'll wait...

Anyway, inspired by this awesome idea, Zac and I decided to do a little bit of a paleo cook off. I won. I made bacon pudding. Zac made some weird melon thing. It was awful. Back to my pudding though! I have been wanting to experiment with bacon in a dessert for a while. I whipped up a kind of date cacao coconut milk pudding base, and then cooked the chopped up bacon in maple syrup. Really what I was hoping to do was make a bacon brittle, but the maple syrup wouldn't harden with the bacon like it does with nuts. So I'm going to give that another go later in the week. But I ended up just putting the pudding in a ramekin and topped it with the maple covered bacon. The idea of it was right, it just wasn't executed properly. The pudding was a bit too sweet, and the bacon needed to be really crispy and crunchy like nuts. It was still delicious, but I want to try it again more like a brownie. It'll work, I have faith. I'm stupidly optimistic when it comes to things like this. You'd think as a 19 year old uni drop out with a neck brace on I would be a depressive adolescent. But no. Or at least for the most part anyway...

Bacon be continued.
You know what will stop any lover's tiff dead in its tracks? When your dog scoots its butt across the carpet right in front of you. Cosmo my toy poodle was having a jolly old time scooting around, and Zac and I could do nothing but laugh because really, who doesn't laugh at a dog when it scoots its butt? That shit is funny. But I think it means that he has worms, which I guess makes it slightly less funny. But still.

P.s. I'm getting really upset with how little I can eat in one sitting these days. I actually left bacon on my plate the other morning. Who does that? Who do I think I am leaving uneaten bacon? I'm so disappointed in myself. Also the other day, Zac had a whole tin of pringles that were just sitting in front of me...kind of staring at me like the baguette did that day. Well you know what I did? I ate about half of that tin. Just devoured it. I went into some crazy bingeing trance that only Zac could snap me out of. He literally had to cut me off, tell me "I think you've had enough" and take the pringles away. In my defense, I was hungover and had been cooking with bacon all day and couldn't eat any of it. But still, I think I can feel the depressive adolescent coming on...
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