I realised something really ridiculous about my personality the other night. I was out at a birthday dinner and playing a game I like to call – “I have no idea what I’m going to order for dinner!”
This game normally involves asking anyone in a five metre radius what they’re ordering, then deciding if that’s something I want to eat, taking a look at the specials board and weighing up the pros and cons of each dish, asking if anyone has eaten at this particular restaurant before and if they know what’s good, making a decision, changing that decision, finally deciding on something and telling everyone what I’ll be ordering and then changing it at the very last second to something else.
It can be really stressful and I think I’ve finally realised why – because someone else always ends up ordering a better dish.
I cannot count the number of times I’ve been out for dinner with my boyfriend and been ridiculously jealous of his meal and 50% of the time we go out, he orders lamb cutlets. I’ll be sitting there with my fish and chips/schnitty/BLT and looking longingly at the perfectly crumbed cutlets, which always taste so ridiculously good.
So the other night I did the unthinkable – I ordered cutlets. And you know what? They weren’t that great, and no – it wasn’t because this particular restaurant didn’t know the art of the cutlet. They were good. But they weren’t great.
What I realised is that although I like a bite or two of this particular dish – I didn’t actually want the whole thing. Lamb cutlets come with mash and veggies – I’m a chips and salad girl. What was I thinking?
Then I started focusing on the bigger picture here. There are always times where I look at someone else and envy what they’re doing, the job they have and the cutlets they eat, but when I really stop to think about it – it looks fantastic but it’s just not for me.
As a brand new part-time Sydneysider I started worrying that maybe Sydney was going to have the same “cutlety” effect (too far with this metaphor? Definitely! But I really like the word cutlet so hear me out!)
I’ve always loved Sydney, but before now I’ve never stayed there for more than a day or two at one time. Sydney is exciting, new, crazy and full of things to do – but what if that changes and I realise it’s not for me? What if it’s a city that I love in bite-sized pieces only?
Which leads me to today – after spending a lot of time in Sydders (we’re on a nickname basis now) over the past few weeks I’m happy to report that it’s not the case. But seriously – what’s not to like about a city that has a cupcakery (is that a word?) every few blocks, street musicians busting out crazy tunes and a Top Shop store with (what feels like) 10 levels.
When I got off the train on Tuesday morning at Central with “Where the streets have no name” by U2 playing through my iPod, I genuinely thought I was going to have a Maria Von Trap moment (you know the one – hands out wide, spinning round in circles).
Newcastle will always be my home. Chicago – you come in a close second. But Sydney… I think you and I are going to get along just fine.
Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to count the number of times I said cutlet in this entry. (10)