Trading-in the Old for the New

I have a Mini-Me!

She’s actually nothing like me (lucky for her), but I have a work-shadow, who in two and a half weeks will be doing my job without me standing behind her to cajole, annoy and nag her.

I think she’s looking forward to it!

I, on the other hand, am finding it hard to let go. I know I should be encouraging her to try things out for herself and have a go, but I feel such intense ownership of my job, and it’s hard to relinquish the control to this fresh-faced, ambitious, enthusiastic young ‘un.

Oh – that’s the other thing – she’s a WHOLE lot younger than me… I feel like the old wife being traded in for the younger mistress!

Speaking of being younger – who’s been bowling lately?

I revisited my youth with a game of tenpin bowling at Rosemount Bowl last night.

Oh my god, I was really bad at it. And even worse – my arse was whipped by my ex boyfriends’ new girlfriend…

Yep – the whole world is “trading up”, and I’m getting left behind!

 

Like Stealing Candy From a Baby

Betrayal.

It’s a big thing, and can come from the most unexpected of places.

I was betrayed by someone today. It surprised me how upset it made me.

I was never particularly close to the person who did it, but had thought we had a healthy respect for each other.

I can actually see, from her point of view, how easy it would have been to do what she did. She wouldn’t even have considered it to be anywhere near as significant as it is to me.

I keep thinking of the old adage, “like stealing candy off a baby”. Stealing isn’t a good idea, but you can reason that candy is cheap, it’s easily replaceable and not a very big deal.

But to the baby, it’s all they have to hold onto, they don’t necessarily know what’s around the corner, might not even understand about money.

I feel like I’ve had something really important ripped off me, mainly because the other person isn’t valuing it as much as I do.

Cryptic I know – I can’t go into details. But to suffice to say – I’m well pissed off!

 

Make Your Own Music

Sometimes I love my job.

Sometimes I think I have the most banal job in the world.

Who cares how carefully worded a Request For submissions is?

Actually – it’s pretty god damn important to me… but sometimes I sit back and I think to myself, “would anyone else think it reasonable to labour over a page and a half of writing the way I just did for two hours?”

It’s not going to change the world; it’s hardly going to alter anyone’s life. It will be read and discarded by more than 75% of the people who pick it up. It’s a string of arbitrary words crawling down a page, creating verbose descriptions and sycophantic language.

My friend Ro, on the other hand, produces some of our music programs – and today she got to trawl the internet looking at fun sound-websites. Today – I want her job!

Check it:
http://www2u.biglobe.ne.jp/~macopism/noct/data/index.html

and

http://www.infinitewheel.com/dubselector2.html

It’s enough to make even the most tone-deaf person feel musical, and put a smile on your dial to end a hard day of work!

 

Let all the Children Boogie

Sometimes life accidentally clicks into place and a little bit of magic happens.

I have a favourite street with a favourite time… I love walking down James St early in the morning, on my way to work.

Cyclists whiz past, suits sit outside Kosta’s with their first coffee of the day, tourists stand on the corner of James and Lake St, trying to decide where they’ll have breakfast. Lots of little old men opening up restaurants and watering pavements. A multitude of different people walking toward me in uniforms the colour of the rainbow – Pharmacy Blue, David Jones Black and White, Secretary Red, Tafe Student Yellow.

Today, my ipod decided to create a soundtrack to a walk I’ll never forget. I’m an obsessive ‘shuffler’. I don’t like to plan my music, I prefer the surprises…

David Bowie’s Starman filled my ears, the sights of James st satisfied my eyes and the smell of early morning coffee pleased my nose…

Starman waiting in the sky
He’d like to come and meet us
But he thinks he’d blow our minds
There’s a starman waiting in the sky
He’s told us not to blow it
Cause he knows it’s all worthwhile
He told me:
Let the children lose it
Let the children use it
Let all the children boogie

 

Family Fever

This weekend was a busy one. I spent most of Saturday moving my furniture from Perth to Margaret River, and driving back again to get home in time for work.

It was a long day, and I couldn’t have done it without the help of my beautiful brother, who spent 7 hours trapped in a car with me, patiently answering all his big sisters’ nosy questions.

My brother and I haven’t lived together since I was 16, when he and our younger brother moved in with my dad and I moved in with mum. In the last 12 years the most time we would have spent together would have been for a meal – we talk on the phone all the time, but have always struggled to find time to physically hang out for anything other than family occasions.

Of everyone in the family he and I see each other the least, because of our conflicting schedules and different lifestyles and interests.

I was a bit nervous about spending the entire day with him, especially with the added pressure of my timeline and having to lug furniture in the heat. But it turned out to be a gorgeous day, and probably one of the nicest I’ve ever spent.

We chatted the entire way – no breaks or silences in conversation. We laughed, we reminisced, we planned the future, we analysed, we joked, and we were serious.

It’s the beginning of a really big family week for me. I’ve moved in with some family, and that’s been interesting. I’m being spoilt rotten with food and treats and having stuff done for me (even though I’ve said I’ll look after myself), but I also have to answer the “what time will you be home” questions…

My dad is coming over from Cairns for a week to spend some time with my brothers and I before I go overseas. I haven’t seen him in two years, since I went up there to visit him (if you ever get the chance – check Cairns out. Unbearably hot, but the scenery is awe-inspiring). He moved out there 5 years ago… we speak every week or fortnight, but seeing him is so exciting. I can’t wait to see what he thinks of Perth having been gone for so long.

And my Mum gets back from her road trip with my grandmother this week (they drove around NSW). Mum lives here, but this will probably be my Oma’s last trip to Perth (she lives in Newcastle). They are my two absolutely favourite people in the family. Mum, Oma and I can stay awake to dawn just talking and drinking tea.

I think this is going to be a big week of going out to dinner, driving around and seeing the sites and family-catch-up.

I’m so lucky all my family are coming together before I go. These people who know me better than I know myself – these people who have nursed me through my sickest and saddest, and celebrated with me my happiest and greatest.

 

Getting Old isn’t Easy

Yep – I know, I’m only 28. But the signs of age are creeping up on me at an alarming rate.

It’s now an expected ritual to pluck at least one grey hair every couple of days out of my head.

My muscles hurt more than ever before; I’m currently sitting at work, typing this post, with a hot pack over my shoulder. This morning I got into the shower, turned suddenly and ripped something all way from behind my ear to my shoulder. Ow.

I have the beginnings of crowsfeet.

My girlfriends and I recently found ourselves in a restaurant bathroom comparing wrinkles. We’d been having this hilarious conversation during dinner about aging, and each of us believed that our wrinkles were worse than anyone else’s at the table – so after dinner we all trooped to the bathrooms, crammed ourselves above the sink and compared face lines. I’ll admit – I didn’t win, but I was certainly in with a chance.

The amusing part of this story is that a waitress came in to tell us that drug use was not permitted in the bathrooms. The laughter that ensued was so loud; other people came in to see if everything was okay. The enviably young waitress couldn’t possibly understand that the days of getting high to go out for a nice meal with your girlfriends were long gone for us – two of our group had kids to go home to, and the rest of us needed to work early the next day.

I think that’s another sign of age – still having fun and getting up to mischief, but timing it so it doesn’t affect things like work and family life.

I have more cardigans than anyone else I know.

I crochet (very well) and have considered taking up needle point.

And the worst sign of aging to date – I can now pick up a Woman’s Weekly magazine (I haven’t reached the devastation of buying them myself yet – I have an older family member who does), and I don’t just flick to the fashion pages and the stories with young cool actors in them. I can actually read it cover to cover. Through the cooking pages, the handy home hints, the true “My Child Saved My Life” stories. The columns about the funny things people wrote in about their child/husband/best friend. Even the clairvoyant section. If that’s not a sign of getting old and losing my mind – I don’t know what is.

 

Shoes Go Walking

I moved much of my stuff to my family house yesterday, and I’m in the last stages of moving all the big furniture into storage and cleaning my apartment before I hand in the keys on Monday.

Firstly – someone stole my bag of shoes out of my car when I was moving. My favourite shoes, the ones I was planning to take with me… My cheap-as-chip comfy Dunlops, my dress-up-or-dress-down Gola sneakers, my green ballet flats, my black work shoes, the only pair of high heels I own and my brown Havianas. Whoever you are, you thieving sneak – I hope you get tinea!

Secondly – I really suck at reducing my life to a bag. I’ve currently got about three times more clothes than I’ll be allowed to take with me to London. Don’t even get me started on how much bathroom product, books and knick knacks I still need to reduce my load by.

Thirdly – wow. It actually feels like it’s happening now. I’m going away and I don’t know when I’m coming home. I’m leaving lots of important things behind me, to create new important things somewhere else. I’m starting to get really excited!

 

Vernadah Laughter

Last night I spent a gloriously balmy evening at the Verandah, falling off my sit with laughter, watching the talented Perth-boy-made-good, Tim Minchin. http://www.timminchin.com/comedian/

I did have the lyrics to Inflatable You here, but WordPress wouldn’t format them properly, so it didn’t do them justice…

All I can say is, if you get the oppportunity, don’t miss one of the funniest expereinces of your life. Dark comedy fits well in my head.

 

Friends Make the World Go Round…

I love that feeling when you suddenly “get” someone, and you’re pretty sure they finally get you too.

I’ve had an inspiring run of finding new friends in unexpected places in the last four days.

The first was with this hugely creative woman, who I always thought was pretty amazing.

All my life there’s always been someone you know peripherally who intimidates you because they seem comfortable in themselves, confident, happy, have something special and twinkley about them…

But when you open your mouth to speak to them, only gobbldy gook comes out. Afterwards you have to kick yourself because you looked like an idiot and said very stupid things, in front of a person you think is pretty cool.

I ran into this woman in a pretty random place over the weekend – and joy of joys, I think I only said a handful of dumb things (a huge improvement, trust me!) and she sat down next to me with her friend and chatted – and all I could think was “God – you’re inspiring!” She had this inner strength that challenged me , and this calmness that had me in awe. And more importantly – she was really lovely to my friend and I. I think we both left with a bit of a secret girl-crush!

Then,,,

That night I was working with a sweet guy. Beautiful to look at, but (I thought) not much upstairs. You know the sort – all looks, no brains… We ended up talking after work, and 5 hours later were still yammering away to each other. Turns out he was just really quiet – but we made this incredible connections and as he said at the end of the night “I feel like I just met someone who could be my best friend, and you’re leaving in only 9 weeks!”

And finally last night – I had an incredible experience with two people, one of whom has known me for many years (but not very well), and one I met only a few months ago. We all had this sudden “click” and from nowhere we began revealing deeply private moments from our lives to each other – embarrassing mishaps at high school that lingered in our memories, painful break-ups, youthful transgressions, family secrets – the whole kit and caboodle. No judgements were made, a few laughs and tears were had, and a couple of glasses of wine to keep the conversation going.

Four days – four amazing people!

 

Pretty-Go-Bangs

I don’t get many days off from work at the moment, so I thought I’d use yesterday’s Australia Day public holiday as an opportunity to begin cleaning, turfing, down sizing and shedding.

I’m moving out of my home in three weeks to stay with family until I leave, so I can save money on rent and bills and incidentals. Obviously I can’t take a whole house of furniture with me, so I’m storing it for the next few years – but it seems silly to hold on to some things, like my collection of Wallpaper magazines, books I’ll never read (and didn’t like much in the first place), clothes I never wear now, and am even more unlikely too in the future, and stupid mementos like postcards, programs and tickets. That’s not to say that I’m throwing everything out – I’m a hoarder from way back, and that’ll never change, but the less personal things are getting the heave-ho.

I was on a roll, when the crash bangs of the fireworks began. I resisted for all of 45 seconds before I was out the door, shoes barely on my feet and my skirt flying behind me, as I sprinted to get a look from Hyde Park. And aren’t I glad I made it!

Fireworks (otherwise known as Pretty-Go-Bangs) are incredible… I love the noise and the smell. I love the colours and the patterns. the ones that start of little and get huge, the ones that start big and “waterfall” down, the ones that have two colours, the ones that look like a geyser. The sound of the oohing and aahing of the crowd around me. The hysterical giggles of the little boy in front of me, the radio coming out of the cars parked on the verge, the very proper Mt Lawley ladies who walk down with a glass of chardonnay in one hand and leading a poodle with the other.

How good are Pretty-Good-Bangs!!??