Mindset - encourage the change

I had set myself a rather large goal of reading 2 books per week in the summer while on uni break in a post I wrote a few weeks back.

This week I have finally finished reading (listening to) the book "Mindset: The New Psychology of Success" by Carol Dweck.

This book was particularly helpful through the study period for me.  I am what Dweck would call, primarily, a fixed mindset type of person.  Someone who would prefer success to look effortless and whose confidence is vulnerable to great shift/change.  I'm someone who takes all possible steps to avoid failure. 

I'm sure there are a few of you who can relate.

Where the book really engaged me was that Dweck believes abilities are things which can be cultivated through hard work - not just some magical talent that you were born with and have forever.  For me, I've always envied people I believed were born with great academic or sporting abilities (or what I perceived were inherent abilities).  I never for once believed that they worked harder than I did and that's why they were more successful at something than I was, or that perhaps their goals were more focussed and maybe they stopped making excuses (which is what I would do when I didn't achieve something - and kinda still do!).

I had convinced myself of the myth about ability and intelligence and by making excuses I was protecting my confidence and ego. 

What my take away from this book will be is that I need to turn my focus to learning and improving.  This way I don't always need that confidence and ego boost.  I can enjoy my learning without knowing I'll be the best at it first time around.  My effort will be a positive constructive force rather than a chore - or I'm going to try and make it less of a chore and through my sustained effort and mental strength I will be able to develop the skills I need for greatness in whatever area of life I choose to channel that effort.

What I find difficult about Dweck's book is that it would take a significant change in mindset at all levels; parenting, teaching, managing staff etc to really institute a change to from a fixed mindset where you praise ability and talent to a growth mindset where you praise hard work and effort.  How many times did your parents tell you you had a gift or were talented at something?  Most people seem to think if you're naturally brilliant that this is somehow better than you achieving something through hard work - strange societal paradigm right?

That change of mindset will be tough and I don't suspect it will happen in greater society, but for those who have changed from the fixed to the growth mindset, those who have worked hard and learnt alot, would probably say that it was all worth it and would encourage the change.  I'm going to encourage the change.

Questions I'm asking myself everyday and maybe you should too - what are my opportunities for learning and growth today? Where can I stop making excuses and work a little harder to achieve what I want?

Elle

ps. sorry I haven't written lately - just recovering from the post-study madness!

Weekend in review (part 2)

Before my lovely dinner at Manta in Woolloomooloo on Saturday night, I had a 3pm appointment with Matthew, my new hairdresser at Redz Colourbox/Orla Quinlan in Surry Hills.

Everyone knows it is hard to find a good hairdresser in the city and I've been through 4 salons in around 4 years.  They are either too pretentious or the hairdresser leaves, or in the most recent case I had been going to a certain salon on Park Street for around 18 months or so and turned up to my early morning appointment (a few short hours before flying to Europe) only to be told on the spot that my stylist was not in and I would have to reschedule.  RESCHEDULE? I was getting on a plane in a few hours.  So I did my usual "Get me another stylist or else" tirade and eventually they sat me down with a glass of water and told me that the senior stylist would be with me in just a moment.

He was fine and all, but he wasn't my stylist.  Not to mention I had to pay more.  I thought that his blowdry left much to be desired and that despite all his goings on about how he was the best blowdry technician they had in the salon I thought it was pretty terrible.

Why couldn't someone have called me when they found out that my stylist was sick? That way I could have sourced another salon elsewhere in the meantime or just not bothered and gone to the gym instead!

So between my Europe trip and now my hair has grown to the bottom of my back.  It was dead, lifeless and really straight.  I was really getting sick of it and with summer approaching decided to do something different and find someone new.

I have walked past this new salon every Saturday for the last 6 weeks or so when I go to drop off the dry cleaning and it looks so lovely and bright and NEW.  I love the word NEW don't you? New clothes + new hair = new you.  Anyway, I was tempted but nervous.  I rang them a few weeks ago and made a booking for a cut and blowdry and figured what did I have to lose? My hair would grow back if I didn't like it.

It turns out that Matthew and Orla who own/manage/run the entire salon on their own are from Ireland.  They have the most beautiful accents and couldn't be anymore welcoming.  The glass of Rose was a nice touch too.

The salon itself had a wonderful breeze flowing through on a rather warm day.  Matthew treats his job like it's his hobby, with great passion and joy with every cut.  I knew I would be content with my hair in his hands and as it turns out, I was more than content.

My hair now has layers, life and is shiny, healthy and dare I say it again, new!  I can't wait to go see Matthew again soon to see what he can do with the colour.

Just another wonderful part of my first study-free weekend for the summer.

Elle

A weekend in review (part 1)

On Saturday I booked an impromptu dinner at Manta Restaurant in Woolloomooloo (Sydney).  I called around 5pm hoping for an early dinner booking to enjoy the beautiful spring sunshine which would last until about 7.30-8pm-ish.  Luckily the kind gentleman on the phone agreed fit me in at 6.15 but politely requested we vacate the table by 8.30pm for the next booking.  Completely fine by me - the sunshine is gone by then anyways.

Here is a glimpse of the wharf upon our arrival:

We were seated at a gorgeous table just inside and I of course got the comfy side with the pillows (boyfriend obliging as always).

I started with a glass of Veuve - why not indulge a little - my exams were over and I clearly deserved it!  The waitress was lovely (with that right amount of interest and information and definately no pretentiousness) and she ever so kindly tempted us with the provolone filled zucchini flowers which were delicate and tasty and we also had a mixed plate of oysters for entree. 

Entrees at restaurants these days are just amazing.  They always make sure, because the portions are so small, that they use the finest quality ingredients and most of the time I would much prefer two entrees rather than an entree and main just for the sheer delicateness and freshness of flavours you tend to get in an entree.

I chose a French bottle of white to go with our meal, the 2006 Laroche Petite Chablis, which is my latest favourite (so over Sav blanc).  It's super smooth but still a little dry and suits the palate perfectly with oysters and fish (just between you and me a French Chablis also goes fabulously with some French creamy Brie but I wouldn't know anything about that).

After entree I had the snapper with kipfler potatoes and aioli and my other half had the Beef sirloin with a beautiful bearnaise sauce.  What is it with restaurants serving these amazing steaks?  We were at Rockpool Bar & Grill recently and their steaks are also out of this world and despite the price tag I completely believe they are worth every cent.

But wait, there truly is more.  I overheard the waitress taking an order at the other table and she mentioned the chips with truffle oil and parmesan.  You heard me right, truffle oil cooked chips.  They were out of this world incredible.  I wish I had a photo of them for you because they looked a bit wierd but they tasted oh so beautiful.  Like gourmet pieces of heaven with every bite.  I wonder how many calories those chips had.  I clearly wasn't concerned at the time which is why I also ordered dessert.

I went with something out of the usual (normally i'm a creme brulee or a lemon tart kinda girl) but I decided I'd go with the lemon meringue pie special.  It was a little too sweet.  My partner had the apple tart tartin and it also left a bit to be desired.  Clearly Manta's position in the restaurant business is chips and truffle oil - maybe they should open up a store and just sell them - they were only $15!!!

All in all it was an absolutely stunning meal.  A beautiful fine dining experience in one of Sydney's most stunning waterfront locations.  I couldn't recommend it highly enough.  Check out Manta Restaurant at: http://www.mantarestaurant.com.au/

Elle

Pizza... my salvation

I cannot believe I am writing this post.  This time last week I was wondering how I would get through another intense series of night time study sessions before another petrifying exam.  Yesterday I woke up early (for a Sunday) but it wasn't to get into the books (at least not the law books).  Yesterday I got to spend time with my family.

Last week was a make or break point for me, if I could survive through the tears and the stress and if my other half could survive with being yelled at or talked to constantly at the end of a study day, then we both could make it.  Which means my dream of becoming a lawyer may actually be possible, which although it sounds obvious, was never something I believed I could do even if I wanted it really badly.

Thursday night I hit the town with the girls.  I had a new dress (not a Ted Baker one - but one that still looked great and was a third of the price).  I had finished an exam that was over 3 hours and despite a thunderstorm looming, a cramped and spasming hand, I bolt out the door (into a taxi that possibly could have killed me on the way to drinks).  It was me against the world and I was winning.  I was even singing along to the music in the taxi! NO I was not drunk at this point!!

The night was a huge success, a celebration for a friend who just got engaged and a huge relief for me that there will be no study for the summer.  But what made it more successful for me was that I was a better version of myself, I had realised that you really need to savour these moments with your friends - which is why I was all for 4 cocktails in the first hour plus a few shots here and there.  You need to get out there and tear it up because a week before I was sitting in this same chair, stressing, studying and wishing oh so much that I could be out there doing anything but studying.  It's all relative right?

My cheeks were so sore from smiling and laughing, either at the fact that there was some sort of hideous 80s music playing or that we had to take 4 photos to get one half decent one of us.  So after a few too many bottles of champagne (thanks to Stu at Cargo for those) and a few too many cocktails, we eventually headed home. 

The taxi driver asked me where I was headed.  Home?  Nope.  Certainaly not.  I was en route to the local pizza/kebab shop because god knows I was going to be at work in a few short hours and a slice would help with the hangover.

I picked up my $3.50 slice of pizza and walked down the street to my place smiling, realising that it's always the small things that make you happy, but that sometimes it takes great dedication, stress and anxiety for you to appreciate those small things.

Oh pizza slice... you were my salvation on Friday morning (and just quietly so was the bacon and egg toasted turkish for breakfast). 

A note to my brother: yes I know I'm not supposed to be eating pizza but come on... it was early in the morning and I really needed it.  I went to the gym on Friday in my lunchbreak!!

Happy Monday everyone.  Hope you are waking up to a beautiful morning wherever you are in the world.

Elle

Let me paint you a picture... a glorious Ted Baker London picture

Upon entering David Jones in my 1 hour lunch break on Friday I knew I could find a dress that would be just perfect for a number of special occasions I have coming up.  I was also prepared for the fact (that after wearing a dress I already own that was a little tight this week) that I could be just outside my usual size (which generally fits me no matter what brand).  Surely it wasn't going to be that bad though right? WRONG.

Let me show you a picture of a dress that was fairly similar - it was the same style as this only in shades of deep green and blues.

Apart from the fact that the dress was way (and I mean WAY) out of my budget for a party dress I thought that if it fit and if it looked perfect I'd be able to justify it somehow; which means also justifying to my other half why I won't be making extra loan repayments this month... eeek.  Nonetheless, I pushed on. 

This dress was the last of 5.  The first one... too much of a bow going on around the neckline and was more like a potato sack (no shape - not good for me).  Second one made me look like I was attending Royal Ascott looking like Pretty Woman all polka dots - perhaps not.  The third was definately a designer dress made for pregnant women (and no i'm not bagging pregnant women but I'm not one so I don't want a dress that makes me look like one!). The fourth - I don't remember but I don't think I was even able to zip it up - now there's the sign saying turn back - run out of the change room now, it can only get worse.  I ignored the signs.  It got worse.  MUCH worse.

I left this one till last.  The Pièce de résistance.  I knew it wasn't allowed.  But it looked oh so pretty and oh so perfect for me - I could tell even before I slipped it off the hanger.  This was it - the dress I was going to wear to all the christmas parties.  I was even matching shoes in my head that were in my wardrobe and figuring out what to do if none of them matched.  The dress had beautiful boning that cinched in the waist to avoid that pregnant look, it was all quality, everything you expect from a beautiful maxi dress.

In essence, this dress is strapless so I'll need to be wearing a strapless bra which probably has a a bit of support for that extra lift if you know what I mean.  So I thought leaving the bra on would be a good idea but that does create a bit of thickness.  Stepping into the dress and shimmying it up over the hips was a little tight.  The change room was hot - clearly it was just a bit sticky.  It was a size 2 after all and so maybe it'll just be a bit small, I can always get the next size.  I began zipping it up the side.  Breathing in.  Twisting around.  Removing bra.  Just two more inches and it will be zipped up.  OH COME ON.  SERIOUSLY?! 2 measly little inches.  THIS IS THE DRESS DAMNIT.  I NEED THIS DRESS.  I have a whole weekend of study ahead of me and I really just need this dress.  It will make it all better.  What don't you understand about the fact that I've been working and studying for nearly 3 weeks straight now and I just really deserve this dress - please karma... please.

  

BRIGHT IDEA:  "Excuse me".  "Do you have this dress in a size 3?".  "Sure".  Kind changing room attendant disappears to look for the next size in the dress.  I wait in anticipation.  Still waiting.  Oh come on I'm standing here in a dress a size too small just hurry up with the bigger size damnit.  While you're at it get rid of these other hideous dresses - I certainly don't want them! Not that I can't afford them or anything.  "Here you go".  "Thanks".

I happily dart back into my change room still canvassing my credit card options; how i'll pay it back and which month's budget this dress will have to come out of.  How will I afford my next lot of personal training sessions and there are a lot of engagement/christmas/birthday parties coming up.  Hmmmmm.  In the meantime I've zipped myself up.... ..... ..... almost.  WHAT?! ALMOST?!  It's like an inch and a half to the top, maybe two inches.  I'm really hot and sweaty by this point.  Don't you hate change rooms like that?  It's not conducive to impulse buying in lunch breaks.

Yep you got it - it still won't do up.  Since when have I never fit into a size 3? and girls it's all relative - if you've never fit into a 3 don't go hating on me - I hate my body just as much as the next girl - trust me.  Ted Baker WHAT THE F*** ARE YOU DOING MAKING SIZES THAT ARE LIKE HALF AN INCH DIFFERENT?!  Continue trying to zip up the dress.  Contemplate friend who is a fashion designer somehow making this dress bigger - can you make dresses bigger?  No idea.  Getting furious.  Just zip up already - please!

Hmmm... let me check the sizes.  Surely there can't be that small a difference between the two.  Oh.  That's right ladies and gentlemen you guessed it, the dress I had just tried on - was already a 3.  I had just asked the assistant, ever so confidently, to get me the next size up only to realise that was clearly the biggest size they had, and I had already tried it on.  Standing in the change room.  Two size 3 dresses - exactly the same. EPIC FAIL.

GenYElle... last seen purchasing red velvet cupcake to drown her sorrows.  Has been seen texting her personal trainer begging for a serious program to lose the extra tyre around her waist, back, hips and thighs and hitting the gym that night to do something about the excess weight she is carrying.  Ted Baker 1 Me 0.

Thank you - to my family

Most of us take it for granted when we have a fantastic family.  I know I took it for granted for a long time before mine began to fall apart (granted I was a teenager and what teenager do you know that appreciates what they have?!).  The falling apart of the family I had known for so long was the catalyst; the thing that made me truly appreciate what I had.  Why does it take a tragedy or a loss to realise that we are already so blessed and lucky to have those people in our lives?

It takes a long time to adjust to a differing picture of what your family is like when it abruptly changes.  Sometimes that change isn't entirely a bad thing despite everything you are brought up to believe (family involves a mum and a dad and 2.5 kids - or in my case 3).  That change can widen your horizons.  It allows you to be more open and understanding of the impact others can have on your life, of accepting a family that is more diverse, and ultimately one you can choose for yourself.  I don't prescribe to the notion that says "you can't choose your family".  I think you really can and I have chosen mine - or perhaps we have chosen each other, even in the most unlikely of circumstances.

Image courtesy of Etsy.com

I have spent the last ten years realising that the closest of my friends are more like family to me than some of my blood relations.  That they (my friends) have shown me true and unfettered support when I needed it most and have remembered the things that are most important to me.  A very good friend posted on her blog a while back about how family is used as a term to describe a 'connection'.  That connection is something I have with a few special people in my life who are not blood relations.  Both her and I share this blended view of family and one of my favourite posts about family can be seen here on her blog, The Highwire.

I, like her little boy, gravitate to those who love me the most.  Those who text me before an exam, and who message me or leave me a voicemail after (even when they're not in the same time zone), those who have confidence in my ability when I least have it in myself and those, who no matter what hour of the day, I know I can count on for support.  This blog post is for them.  They are part of my family, and to you, you know who you are, I say thank you.  You mean the world to me.

Quick Hit No.5

What I love about blogs

You wake up in the morning and there's something more interesting today than yesterday, something more creative, more inspiring and more happy (generally). 

I've stopped reading the news in the morning as my internet fix before work.  Now I just trawl my google reader and catch up on all my favourite blogs.  If I get to work a bit earlier I also have more time to comment - which after all is half the fun of blogs - the interactiveness of it all.

Recently one of my favourite bloggers took a break and boy was I lonely without it - it was like my little piece of happiness in the morning had disappeared and I was so happy when she returned.  Check out Chantelle's blog Fat Mum Slim to see what I mean.  Creative, fun, beautiful and my little piece of joy in the morning.

Obviously news is important but I think I much prefer real people, real questions and real happiness than journalists exaggerating stories for shock and awe factor as well as the devastation and disaster which we see on the news.  Blogging still has that human factor you see in the news, but in a nicer way.

What is it that you love about blogs?