Festivus 2011
Published 26 December 2011Christmas is always a confusing mix of happiness, ham, exhaustion, over-spending, pavlova, stress and leftover ham.
This time of year usually gets me worked up into a little ball of stress and anxiety. It’s hard to keep everyone happy, to make sure you see everyone, give the right presents, make the right noises when opening presents, not breaking long-held family traditions and doing the wiping up.
This year I decided to just chillax, let the chips fall where they may and focused on just enjoying it. It was the Christmas we thought we’d never have, with mum well enough to escape get day leave from the nursing home. It’s rare to get the entire clan together and especially to have all of mum’s grandchildren together, from 23yo down to 3m. I made the point of sitting at the Christmas dinner table and just taking in the significance of having everyone there. Well, mostly there when people weren’t jumping up to get more of the mineral water, more yummy Christmas ham or to settle an unsettled bub, the usual blur that happens when you have so many people trying to eat at the same time.
We got to spend some time with my in-laws as well – getting pisqualéd courtesy of a Whiskey-tasting session and a $400 bottle of champers. Our eldest niece proclaimed that our family will have 4 babies before next Christmas and ours would be called Harry. Good to know; I can get that customised bunting done early.
I have run out of Lindt balls. This makes me a very sad bunny. Jarod and Liz made a mercy dash this afternoon with some more Lindt balls. There’s my dinner sorted, then.
Now that Christmas is behind us, it’s time to get on with the Ikea shopping list unpacking, navel-gazing in preparation for the new year (resolutions ahoy!) and I’m going to bake something/s in the new oven.
All of which will be a seamless experience and it won’t make me swear one single word!
Happy festivus, you guys :)
Caturday: so this is summer
Published 24 December 2011Elvis’ favourite spot at the new place is on the couch. He gets lots of sunlight and there’s always a cool breeze coming in through the window.
This is his “don’t touch my fluffy belly” face. Or his “don’t take another farking photo of me” face.
Either/either :)
Shifted
Published 23 December 2011I now live in Suburbia.
After a week of moving boxes (and boxes, so many boxes) and carloads of crap (and a maxed out 4-tonne truck) we have left Bohemia.
I cried the last time I walked away from our old place. Sure, living there turned sour, but those 4½ years there were pretty amazing and transformational (Is that even a word?).
But now? We live amongst a nice community (seriously, the neighbours are so friendly) in a nice neighbourhood. And our new place is sun-drenched, in excellent condition, fully renovated and just plain nice.
Even the movers commented on the difference.
Yesterday morning, a neighbour I hadn’t met yet asked if I wanted a lift to the station. Last night the ice cream truck did his fortnightly rounds and stopped outside our place.
The noise here is so different – kookaburras, magpies and the wind rustling through trees.
The cats are having issues with settling, though — the Bear especially with his crying in the middle of the night — but nothing a visit from Train’s vet couldn’t fix (Surely? Hopefully?)
But now that I’ve finished work for the year, the internet’s connected and the TV has been set up, I can focus on the unpacking and enjoying the small things… like our new oven
Ribbit
Published 4 December 2011I’ve always been wary of carparks. I feel like one of the few drivers who knows to park between the lines… Everyone else seems to treat those white lines as though they are “estimate only” and don’t have to be obeyed.
It used to only be a north shore thing. It’s always been especially bad in the carpark under and around Neutral Bay Woollies. Those yummy mummies don’t have time to straighten up their parking, they need the extra time to unfurl their Bugaboos and bark instructions down their iPhone 4S to their pool cleaner. Mosman Council would do well to just change those parking spots from 90 degrees to 45 degrees.
I like to use this time to remind Dan that, as a former Neutral Bay resident, he is to NEVER EVER park like these people.
But, like the Cane Toad, Bad Parking Syndrome is moving south. My beloved Marrickville Metro has been overcome recently, and I’m noticing that it’s getting worse. Today, on my first round of Christmas shopping, was forced to park next to a fellow Mazda2 that was sadly parked too close for comfort. I’m especially sensitive since Talyn has only recently returned from the plastic surgeon.
Luckily, there were no scrapes to be found. This time.
If I’m forced next to park next to a car that isn’t parked properly (or parked too close to my side) I take a photo in case they scratch my car. Not that I think a photo would hold when presented to the coppers, but it makes me feel better.
Do people in your area know how to park between the lines?
Also, doesn’t this pic make you squirm? YUCK.
Hard earned.
Published 3 December 2011I learned very quickly in my life that (really) good things only seem to happen to me when I’ve (really) earned it.
Exhibit A: back in my youth, I was in a very dubious “relationship” that, in the course of a year, managed to destroy my soul to the point that it took years to recover. I had lost value of myself as a person, was treated like dirt by this supposed boyfriend and was metaphorically and emotionally dragged through the mud.
Then, just as that relationship was falling apart, I met Dan and my life got infinitely better from that point onwards. It sounds dramatic to say that Dan saved my life, but you know what I mean, right? He turned my life around so much, it’s hard to remember the old me.
It’s no surprise that last year was a complete write-off, with mum being in hospital and all the drama that it generated (okay, I generated some of that drama too). But I knew that it was only happening because of the wedding. And I can’t to go into the drama that led to us eloping, because it still hurts us today, it still hurts our families and our only consolation is that our reasons behind why we eloped are still valid. I’m sorry that it’s so cryptic, but thats the most I can share. But getting married was the best thing to have happened to me and I knew it was only made possible by the most difficult year I had lived through.
The last month has been a challenge for me; I’ve been tested personally and professionally and I’m not entirely sure if I passed or not. But you know when your life just continually kicks you in the shins, just when you think things might start to look up, life just says “hahaha, sucked in!”? My life had reached a point where even minor set backs were worthy of an Oscar-winning sook-fest. Woe is me, #firstworldproblems, etc.
I was literally just trying to get through each day, surviving on a diet of adrenaline, deadlines and shifting goalposts.
Then, yesterday, I was rewarded. I had a nice day with mum, taking her to an appointment. I even managed to get some shopping in on my way home.
Then I got home and found an email telling us that we have a moving date. Our tenants will be out within a couple of weeks and we can start to move into Suburbia.
I’ve desperately waiting for this, I’m ready to move, as much as I’ll miss living in Bohemia. The new neighbours here are shitting us off big time and as Gough said It’s Time. Everything is falling into place. And it feels as though it’s happening because I’ve earned it.
Thank you, universe.
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