I'm Not Quite Over It Yet

The throws of nostalgia are coming on. Couldn't you tell though? Well anyway I'll spare you except for several photos, a few of my favorite places. In other news I think I am cracking. Just the other evening while running the stairs at The Domain (outside the botanical gardens with a view across the harbor of the above) I saw a cute boy, if not cute he at least resembled an ex-boyfriend so closely it would have been sacrilegious not to think he was at least noteworthy. So as I was stretching I noticed the water has risen in the harbor these last couple weeks. Which now I have figured must be related to the full moon (I am clever, no?) but I thought I would say just to start the convo "the water level is really high, a really big cruise ship must have just come into Port." and then I would slap my knee and he would laugh and conversation would ensue. Well ok don't worry I didn't do that but it's just goes to show you, I'm losing it.

Today I am going to run to Centennial Park. I haven't been yet and time is really running out. I'll be wearing a hoodie becuase it's chilly outside, the leaves are falling from the trees and it's something like an amalagmation of East Coast and West Coast Fall. I can't quite place it. Tonight I am cooking dinner for a few friends. A southwestern chicken salad, corn, black beans, cilantro and avocado with a BBQ Vinaigrette dressing. Tomorrow I'm waking up for free yoga at Lulu Lemon downtown. If my routine sounds like it has taken an uncanny resemblance to that of my life in San Francisco you can be sure it has.

I'll leave with this, I wish I had made it up and not actually thought it but I almost told the guy sitting in the window of a cafe reading from his kindle yesterday that we were meant to be together, obviously we both read...from Kindles AND like coffee. Match made in heaven. So there now I have thoroughly embarrassed myself by telling you actual thoughts. But he was cute and I bet the four of us me, him and our kindles would have gotten along great!

*Hyde Park on a sunny Sunday afternoon

*Airlie Beach Sailing on the Whitsunday Islands at Twilight

*What's left of the Twelve Apostle's, The Great Ocean Road, Victoria

*Yarra Valley, From Giant Steps Winery, after a day of wine tasting

*My favorite seat in the Botanical Gardens before they replanted the lilies seen above

Cheesecake, Cheesegrater and a few well places strawberries

You know when you read a book and you are loving it? The writing, the story, the message. Whatever and then in the last 14 pages it all goes to shit. Whoa what just happened there? Didn't see that coming! Why couldn't they have just left it at not crazy and bizarre. Like a last ditch effort to make the book shocking and different. So that happened to me yesterday when I finished the book I was reading. I was going to recommend it but maybe not. Maybe. Maybe not. I don't know it's like Shantaram the first 3/4 is so worth reading even though you can't finish it without a dedicated effort towards ignoring how south it went. Also in the pipeline is Frankenstein on the ole' kindle. Another freebie, I haven't gotten very far but they are in the arctic on a boat which is pretty unexpected.

AND last night I sat at the bar looking into the hostel kitchen. Five of us at the bar and Milan, our Philippino cooking Asian cuisine. Miso Soup, ginger chicken, sesame rice balls with bean curd (my favorite), sushi and then teryaki beef. Delicious. I made cheesecake. Grated graham crackers on a cheese grater because we don't have a food processor, all this while a horror film was captivating an unusually full lounge area. Silence. Scream. Chain Saw. Grate grate grate of the graham crackers. Scream. Dirty looks? Volume up. Grate grate grate. Chainsaw. Scream.

It went something like that.

Then I overcooked it because I was reading the last 14 pages of the letdown book. Lucky I had strawberries to hide the burn and crack of the filling. No one cared. They oohed and awed, said it was wonderful. But the Sarah Lee that I saw while looking for the butter, and thought of passing off as my own would certainly have tasted better. But I grated and whisked with love so I guess there's that anyway.

And the volcano kept a not too disappointed German woman here with her son a week longer than planned. I think my own mother would have faired the same if we had been so lucky. Another opportunity to swim in the cold ocean water and eat fish and chips...again.

It's three weeks till I'm in burrito heaven. Off for a flat white with a milk foam flower. I can tell you it will taste better because it's pretty. What can I say I'm shallow when it comes to my coffee.

*Big Hostel Kitchen above, their photo, not mine!!

Two Up and 8 Months of Whatness?

As my time in Australia winds down - with 3 weeks left - I am taking stock of my last 8 months here. 8 months is an a long time, but not that long. For Gus, my Melbournian friend, it was long enough to quit his job, travel throughout North and South America move to Sydney and get a new job (as he pointed out to me I was still here when he got back from doing all of that) for my cousin Seta it was enough to go from flat abs to medium baby bump - i'll miss the due date by 1 month - For some it isn't enough time to find a job, and we know it hasn't been enough time for the US economy to bounce back from the abismal state that it is in. While better - not fixed. But who wants to talk about the crappy economy anyway. Not me but then again it was fairly easy to ignore being here, in Australia, they have faired remarkebly well. Construction, I can tell you, is booming. Subcontractors are turning down work which says miles for how busy they are. This is a fact that is difficult to ignore as the impending return to the United States job prospects are bleaker. How much so is still to be determined. Anyway I didn't start writing this to talk about that. The Cairns airport was under construction when I got here and almost finished when I was there two weeks ago. I'm just trying to figure out what my 8 months out here has meant to me beyond a bleap on the screen of my life. What have I done? I can tell you I have scuba dived and drove tractors on a banana farm, learned to drive a manual car - something I have long wanted to do, I have visions of myself as Angelina in Gone in Sixty Seconds...sexy - I have ridden the greyhound far more than I ever care to again and reconciled the privacy and sleeping issues that come with living in a hostel. Met 90 percent Europeans, 10 percent Australians, discovered that Canadians really have a problem being mistaken for American and gotten to know some amazing family. I have worked in construction, different words, same bullshit. And above all else I have learned to be alone with myself. To be clear this doesn't mean I have found myself. I don't think I was looking. What I was looking for was a point in the right direction. An offer I couldn't turn down, a person/man (there I finally said it out loud), a dream job, a new hobby to pursue above anything else. Any or all would have done but no such luck. Instead I am left to wonder if that's too much to hope for. It happens in movies, it happens to people I have met but I suppose they aren't sitting around waiting for it to happen. So I've done a lot. Learned a lot. Slept a lot. Drank a lot. There's no denying Australians are drinkers. Tomorrow I will enjoy my second Australian national holiday, the first being Australia day, this being Anzac day. A memorial for those who fought and died in the battle of Galipoli. They take it seriously here. Which in Australian means there are Anzac cookies to be eaten, a large memorial gathering early in the morning that gives way to a day in the pubs where Two Up (basically a game of heads or tales) is played and bet on because it is the one day of the year when it is legal to play this otherwise forbidden game. Random. Then they have Monday off to recover.

So in 8 months I have experienced Australia, not the outback but farm country and city alike. I have done what's important to me and while there is a lot more I could have done I leave knowing Sydney, a city to love, better than many that have lived here for years. If I tell you what I am going to miss the most is the beautiful way coffee is served here. A cappuccino with a little chocolate and a foam leaf. A flat white with a heart in the foam or a long black served just right with the crema on top. Will you think me crazy? Certainly the loss will not be as painful as the absence of Mexican food has been. But there's that anyway. Pretty coffee and some invaluable experiences and maybe just knowing now that I need to meet my own country the way I have met Australia. So you'll see it seems those dots after Hot Mess may remain for a while longer. See you next week. Wish me luck tomorrow I am going to place some bets and have a few beers.

*The photo above is rowdy game of two up in Sydney. I don't know if I am ready for that!!

Footloose and Fancy Free

Today I am her. A Richard Avedon girl in Paris. I walked home swinging my bag eating a fuji apple, harder to find in Australia than another American, I was crunching away while I walked past Chanel and glanced longingly in. At what I don’t know but just the shear cleanness of it all. So put together, so black and white. And I wondered about the suit guys who open the door for you or just stand against the wall with their hands behind their backs. Black suit and faces of nothingness and yet purposeful, like they are waiting for something. But what are they waiting for? Is an attack on Chanel imminent? Do they help you to your limo when you purchased so much black and white you can’t carry it all out in one load. Are their suits Chanel? Do they like Chanel? Did they used to work at Prada? Do their wives wear couture. Do they have wives? I just wonder is all where do they live and how did they get to be the Chanel Suit guy. La De Da. I extracted a head nod and miniscule smile from the one at the door. It was probably a pity smile, him all the while thinking “Poor peasant girl eating her apple, someone should really tell her that her hair is uneven.”

In other news... today, while on hold for the inspector who is reviewing our project certification, they had “I like big butts and I cannot lie” playing. I didn’t know whether to be pissed when he finally picked up because the song ended or offended. Certainly not the later but one could imagine offense being taken. I’ll tell you one thing though, being on hold would be way better if it was required by law to play old school rap that was the most requested song at your 7th grade dance. No one would complain when they were trying to change their return flight back to San Fran to fly through Hawaii for a brief beach stopover but were being shunned by the airlines and kept on hold for hours at a time for not being part of the millions of people who can’t get home to their families because some volcano erupted. I’m just saying is all…

I’m going for a run now. My coworker told me you are supposed to eat three hours before going to bed which means I have an hour to run, prepare dinner and shove it down my throat. Hmmm that’s not going to happen. But if I were a little kid that would be the best excuse ever to stay up late. No?

On my new plan to rule the World

I don't actually have one. No no and even if I did I wouldn't really want to rule it but if I were going to fight evil I would pick Burt Reynolds, Carry Grant (why was he never James Bond?), The girl who plays Kate in Lost and Beyonce to be on my team. Burt for his stash and good humor, Carry obviously for his charm, Kate cause she's hot and always tortured and willingly to give up anything for Jack - I mean Sawyer - wait Jack? and Beyonce just because. If I had to have a blonde, which if this were a movie would be a requirement I guess I'd choose Brittany because well besides just being last pick I guess she has some redeemable offensive distraction moves. Anyway I don't know where this is going but who would you put on your team?

Today I counted down the minutes till work was over. There is a guy in my hostel that looks just like my little brother Kurt, hair, nose everything and Kurt is a pretty distinct looking guy which is why it hell of trips me out and I stare at him a lot and then he catches me. Except he has the worst Northern England accent ever and a really hot French girlfriend whose hair I want (not just because it is long but shiny too!) And there is this. Kurt used to be the cute sibling. What am I saying he still is. But you know when we were little he was the cute one. My mom vehemently denies this but I know it is true the way I know Tila Tequila is going to reality TV Hell. Because it just is.

It's my bedtime. You are one day behind dead asleep or as I just read probably in your third "sleep cycle" each being 90 minutes. Hopefully you'll get 4 of these cycle before you wake up tomorrow morning - or yesterday morning? Hmmm you got me there. I'm heading into the hump wish me a small one. Either way it's not Monday anywhere right now which is nice.

Oh and I pick Kate Walsh too.

Vegemite Does a Body Good and It's Delicious Too

I was reading an article in Yoga Magazine. "You Are What You Eat" is the title. Maybe this is true, at least it helps us think how nasty we would look as a big mac or my new favorite from Bourke Street Bakery the Lamb Roll or something else delicious like that. Well anyway on it goes on and on and so boring and then it suggests things to eat. And I tell you if I ate carpaccio of Beet-root like they suggested what would that make me. Ew. No really yuck...

Carpaccio of beet-root, honestly what is the world coming to. I threw the magazine out shortly thereafter but not before reading the article on how good detoxing is for you, written by a 5'-18" 105lb model. Um yeah I know I am just jealous but really. So anyway how about that volcano. Pretty crazy huh? And since I am living in a hostel right now (just upgraded after two nights in a top bunk to the bottom) I get to see first hand how freaked out everyone who has to stay here instead of going home or taking their vacation is. It's pretty crazy you know these things happen to third world countries and we all hear about them but then this, affecting the UK it's a little different isn't it? Or is it just cynical me. Although to be fair I did read that the repercussions are far more widespread than people not getting to take their holiday. Trade is being affected etc etc. I won't bore you go read CNN for that. But the shear idea that this is so out of anyone's control including powerful, wealthy European countries is I think humbling in a way. A reminder that we are at the mercy of this planet we live on. Humbling and awe inspiring we can't control the weather and how crazy is it that a volcano even erupted. Crazy shit.

So I have been eating vegemite. I like it. A lot. Sometimes I even have three pieces of toast with it. Like this morning. I took a vegemite sandwich to work and it was eaten by 9:15am (I was going to say 10am cause then it would have appear like I ate it at break but no it didn't last that long) Sometimes I think about it, like right now I wish I could have a piece for dessert. But I haven't broken down and bought a jar yet. I am not ready for that. For now I am a closet addict yoinking the hostel vegemite from the breakfast cart (I stole the bread for the sandwich too)

So happy Monday, hope it's as random and sunny as mine was!

Danny Devito's and well I guess not all that much else.

Dear Readers,

Thin as a bald man's hairline you were before, now I expect there are even less of you since I have all but stopped writing. I haven’t stopped writing actually but I can’t seem to finish a damn thing. Like my dispatches, Sydney to San Francisco. Half a dozen word documents waiting patiently to get posted and there is so much more I wanted to tell you. How I have rediscovered the beaches since my Mom has been here. How I stopped counting down the days till I get to go home. Now I count the days I have left here. You see four weeks is the blink of an eye. Shorter than Molly Ringwald’s career, shorter even than Michael Anthony Hall’s (since we don’t count anything after 1992) and suddenly I am wishing for another month but then I worry if I extend it will I just be prolonging, stretching out the end of something that is over. Bittersweet it is. But I suppose bittersweet isn’t bad…it’s just the end or a new beginning. But that’s a little deep.

Sydney has turned cold. The Hunter Valley, that only two months ago was hotter than Hades, was on the icy side this time around. Crisp cold air. And when I booked our hotel room I couldn’t figure out why fireplaces were an amenity there when it’s Australia people. Call me stupid but until I came here I never thought twice about the weather. I assumed it was always warm. Surf and sun weather. Shorts and flips flops, tans and tank tops. I was wrong., very wrong. And now my one sad little scarf is going to have to carry me through the next four cold weeks because what kind of sense does it make to buy winter clothes when I am going back to summer. Right?...Right? Or maybe just one jacket…

Anyway I'll leave you with just this. The above is a self portrait I took. It's my haircut...oh sweet hair that I miss so much. It only took 4 weeks but I am done melodramatically running my hands through my hair lamenting the loss of it and the good old days when it fit nicely into a thin but neat ponytail.

So my cousin Chris calls these stubby attempts at ponytails my Danny Devito's. Which if you ask me pretty much makes the haircut worthwhile.

Until next time, which I promise won't be quite so long. Think of me, two Danny's and a headband running through Hyde Park. Running desperately trying to justify that ginger brulee tart I ate earlier today.

**When I say one sad scarf I mean two pashminas, 3 sweaters, 1 hoodie and enough hats to put the mad hatter to shame. But okay still no jacket...