Eggs Benedict

Rivers Restaurant, Mylestom NSW
Eggs Benedict $16.00
Juice $6.00

A slight detour off the Pacific Highway and it was time for breakfast. I’d already been to the Mylestom beach and seen a diamond back python disappearing into the brush. On my way out of town I saw a sign, ‘Big Brekkie $18.50’, that made me stop at Rivers Restaurant.

I walked up the stairs and was shown to a seat on the balcony. I was then presented with a menu, a glass and a bottle of water. As I am a creature of habit I had my heart set on the advertised Big Brekkie, but ended up ordering the Eggs Benedict. I always end up ordering the Eggs Benedict. The menu promised leg ham on focaccia with poached locally grain fed eggs, and it was too much to resist.

Shortly after ordering my eggs in the form of Benedict, the waitress informed me that they were out of hollandaise sauce. Did I wan t anything else? She asked. I said, I’d still have the EB, sans the sauce. Next, my juice arrived. Carrot, orange, apple and ginger combined in perfect proportions to make a refreshing morning beverage, sweet, but not acidic.

The waitress came back and informed that the chef was making the sauce and it would be a few more minutes.

I was content to wait. I had an uninterrupted view of the Bellengen River, the fishermen, the water-skiers, and inappropriately dressed holiday makers, considering the foul weather. Ben Johnson was serenading me from the stereo and I felt relaxed, for the first time in a while.

When my breakfast was finally placed before me I was supremely chilled out.


I cut into the egg and the saffon yellow yolk poured out, covering the ham and toast, mingling with the pale yellow hollandaise. A half grilled tomato avoided being touched, but that could wait til later.

The flavours blended together perfectly. The sauce, which can lean towards lemony, was delicate and smooth. The eggs, the ham, the sauce and toast combined together into a month watering dish. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t because I was starvin’ marvin, but purely the skill of a chef in a sleepy holiday town six kilometres of the Pacific Highway (between Nambucca Heads and Coff Harbour).

Are You Joking?

Christmas Eve arrived, I got up, dressed in all black and went to work. The reason for all black? I had to do a three hour stint on the shop floor, from 2 – 5pm.

The store that I work has a credo. Surprise and Delight the customer

I think I may of actually have achieved that today during my shift.

I surprised the complete stranger who asked me for a coffee date by saying yes. I further delighted him by giving him my phone number.

Well, it's Christmas and I felt like giving.

Button Meltdown

This is getting out of hand now. Today I went to see a choir sing a few Christmas dittys on the ground floor of the building I work in. I was standing there while they sang 'The Holly and The Ivy' thinking I really love this song and feeling quite uplifted and happy. Then they sang I didn't know or recognise. Then they started to sing 'Hark the Herald Angels'.

My mind went straight back to when I was about 7, I was in the school choir and we were performing at a summer concert at Guildford Civic Hall (UK). I was sat in the back of the car singing 'Scarborough Fair' to myself and playing with my little ice creamed shaped metal and enamel buttons on my blue and white gingham school dress when Muv leaned back and said, 'You're supposed to be wearing your winter uniform.' I ended up, standing at the back of the choir singing my little heart out, still playing with my ice cream buttons.

Muv had a button jar. When she was sewing I would tip it out on the floor and sort through the buttons. The ice-cream buttons had been in the jar and I was always asking her to put them on something for me. She never did until that summer when she made me a couple of new summer school dresses. I didn't know she had put them on until one morning when I put my uniform on.

I had to stop watching this morning and leave. I have no idea why 'Hark the Herald Angels' should set me off by triggering that memory, but it did and now my eyes won't stop leaking.

Mannequin Smut

I was getting myself a cup of tea this afternoon when I noticed some off duty mannequins getting more action than me.

Weekend

I had a very relaxing but productive weekend. Washing was done, the groceries were purchased, the ironing was done. I had dinner guests on both Saturday and Sunday. I had several telephone conversations with mates that lastest up to and beyond twenty minutes. I even did some cleaning.

It was the busiest weekend I've had in quite sometime.

Last night I went to bed straight after the 8.30 movie (The Heartbreak Kid), read about four pages of my book then passed out. I slept so heavily I managed to completely ignor my alarm until ten past seven. I was late for work and I don't care because I felt healthy for the first time in weeks, nope scratch that, months!

Taxi!

It took me two hours to get a taxi on Friday night. I left the club on Oxford Street at twenty past one in the morning. I was tierd after a great night and jusy really wanted to go home. Actually, thinking about I didn't really want to go home I wanted to stay, but I had pre-christmas appointments starting at 10.30 on Saturday. So my need for sleep compelled me to leave. I was escorted by a friend out of Hellfire. He very kindly offered to wait with me.

Picture if you will to two people in fetish wear, surrounded by pissed bogans on the Friday before Christmas. He was dressed in head to toe black latex. I was dressed as a naughty schoolgirl right down to the really short skirt and ribbons on the back of my socks. Couple that with wanting to go 20kilometres from the city centre. It wasn't looking good.

I eventually walked to a hotel and asked them to book me one. May attempts to get a taxi to come to me, standing on the street had ended in spectaular failure. I finally climbed into the back of taxi at 0320, I was cold, cranky and very tired. I crawled into bed and wrapped myself around Puss for warmth at 0355.

I am never not driving again.

Another Moment

I had to do my Give Time yesterday. Three hours of standing on a shop floor being an information point for customers who don't know where they are going. I was dressed in the obligatory all black, comfortable shoes, armed with my name badge and big 'i' and a booklet full of hints and tips about which product lives where.

The first demand.

'Where's the Sorbolene?'

The second question, this time with a polite end.

'Where are the toilets, please?'

For three hours this went on. I was asked for brand name after brand name, where Santa was, the toilets and mens sunglasses. I was even asked where the competition (as in main rival) was. The time passed quite quickly, but I had a few minutes where I had to control my emotions and suck the tears back.

A woman walked past me as I was talking to someone about an hour into my shift. She had her red striped back to me and was walking with another woman. But the smell was unmistakable. Chanel No. 5 and cigarettes. The prick of tears stung the back of my eyeballs.

Then as I stood there, I saw her again. She was standing next to the Chanel counter. The other woman was younger and they were laughing about something. I looked at what she was wearing. A red and white striped t-shirt with jeans and dockside slip on shoes. I looked at her hair, it was just above her shoulders, blond and highlighted. She was slim and not that tall. The other woman was wearing a shirt and jeans and sandals. A thought came to me.

I will never go shopping with my Muv, ever again. Ever.

The tear sprung forward and I tried to fight them back. But I couldn't prevent them from spilling over just a little. I was saved by a lady taking a tumble as she stepped off the escalator.

A little later, I saw this pair again. They were standing and talking on the desending escalator. Once again my eyes burned, water welled but I managed to breath through it. I was really thankful they seemed to know where there were going and didn't feel the need to talk to me.

2008 - A year in review

I've had one of those years that everyone has at some point in their life. My parent would say to me, 'if it doesn't kill you, it'll make you stronger.' when I had bad moments as a kid. You know the moments I'm talking about. Falling off your bike and flaying the right side of your face, your knee and knuckles. Falling out of a tree. Having the stick you're pretending is a cigerette jam into the back of your throut and giving you a nose bleed. Cutting your head open on the sight of an air rifle. At the time all of these things where the worst thing that could ever happen to me. And then this year happened. Every month has offered up a dossey and only a couple of months have given me something to counteract it (I highlighted those).

In early January a good friend took me along to her family's fortune teller. He was Vietnamese and didn't speak any other english apart from 'Hello' and 'Goodbye', but he managed to tell me (throught the translations of my friend) that as 2008 was 'Year of the Rat' and I was born in the year of the rat, I was either going to have a really great year, or a really bad year. He also told me I would travel, meet my soul mate, have bad health and if I had children I would have two.

I suppose I got a clue that it was it was going to be on the bad side of the coin when my Muv was finally diagnosed (after months of faffing) with lung cancer at the end of Jan. It pretty much went down hill for there.

Late Feb - evicted from my house when I asked for the leaking roof to be fixed.
Mid March - told my Muv was getting bad and moving back to the UK so she could be in a UK hospital
Late March - Moved house and depleted spare funds
Late March - Muv worse, get your arse back to the UK
Early April - First international travel, and a week in the UK, Muv sick, but seemed OK to return to Aus
Early May - Muv worse, get your arse back here ASAP
Mid May - Flat broke, trying to figure out how I was going to get back to the UK. Handed in notice for end of contract
Early June - House sold, booked flights
Mid June - Second International travel, flew to UK via a two day stop over in Seoul, Korea
Mid June - Spent 9 days with Muv, really bad, no hair and in hospice. Told her I wasn't going to the States, she told me and everyone who would listen I had to get on with my life and she wanted to see photos of New York and Washington DC.
Late June - Third international travel, went to America for two weeks
4th July - Muv Died, missed seeing photos by two days.
August - Failed to get job in UK due to economic downturn, despite 16 agent interviews
Early September - Flew back to Aus, missing Goyte in his London concert by four days
Mid September - Signed on at Centrelink
29th September - Graduated from Uni with a Masters Degree in Writing
September and October - Applied for over 150 jobs and attended more than 40 agent interviews, 6 job interviews
3rd November - Started new job that pays 30% less than previous job (only job on offer)
12th November - Fell on train and hurt hip, had to start using one crutch for support
28th November - Signed off work sick with Whooping cough (the plus side of bed rest meant that I could put the crutch away)
15th December - Laptop (Bigglesworth) died

I haven't got to the end of the year yet, but with an ophans Christmas dinner and a solo roadtrip (sleeping in the car on a futon matrtess, reading on the beaches of teh East coast:-) to the Gold Coast planned from 26th Dec - 7th Jan, It should end on a up note. After all, I really don't think it can get much worse.

I may or may not write another entry this year, depends on time and computer access (currently only have it during office hours due to Dead Biggles) so I'll say adieu until next year.

May you all Have a very Merry Christmas and a happy, healthy and joyous New Year.

On the 18th November I purchased a train pass to cover me for the full month until my next pay day. It cost me one hundred and forty five dollars. I thought I was being most efficent, then I got sick. I took my sick notes to the railway station and filled in a form. I'd worked out that I should get about $60 back by the time they had deducted the $11 handling fee. How wrong I was. Despite having proof that I had not travelled on the trains for 14 of the 30 days on my ticket, I was eligible for nothing.

So, to today. The train police, also known as Transit Officers (TO) were checking tickets on the way into work this morning. A girl went to her bag and couldn't find her ticket. She was in a panic, the TO stood over her and watched. He huffed and puffed before saying to her, 'Give me your ID!'

She looked up at him ashen, Ireally think she had lost her ticket. Her lack of compossure and colour would be very hard to fake.

She looked down at her bag, then back at him before saying, 'If I had my ID, I'd have my train pass. My wallet isn't in my bag, I think it's been stolen.' there was a distinst glisten in her eyes. I have that feeling before, my heart went out to her. ' I don't have any money.'

The TO then took his notepad from his utility belt and flipped it open.

'Name?'

I didn't hear her response, but I could feel the heat from her blush three rows back.

'Address?'

Again, a quiet response.

'You will be recieving a $60 fine in the mail, you will have two weeks to pay it. Have a good day.' he walked away.

So in short, they are quite happy to slug you for more cash, but make it impossible to get any sort of refund. To top this off, train fares are going up. Let's hope a raise in fares mean I don't have to stand on every trip.

Internet Censorship

Did you know the Government is proposing an internet censorship scheme that goes further than any other democracy in the world?
I've just signed a petition to prevent the scheme that will make the internet up to 87% slower, more expensive, accidentally block up to one in 12 legitimate sites, will miss the vast majority of inappropriate content and is very easily sidestepped. The government of the day may add any ‘unwanted’ site to a secret blacklist under the scheme.
Our Government should be doing all in its power to take Australia into the 21st century economy, and to protect our children. This proposed internet censorship does neither. Can you join me and take action on the net today to save the net?

http://www.getup.org.au/campaign/SaveTheNet/442
Thanks!

Old Git

I’m not quite sure how I manage to do it, but I have a habit of picking hobbies that are the domain of old people.

First it was the alpacas. An industry almost entirely made up of 50+ people. That was OK, I coped and even got passed comments about being too young to have alpacas.

So, about a year ago I got a phonecall. It was a wrong number, but it turned out that the male voice on the other end was looking for a version of me of the male gender. Turned out he was for the Book Collectors Society of Australia. I joined and for the next year I received the journal.

On Sunday I went to a meeting. I swear to god the average age there was 70. A lot of raised voices where required and yet somehow I ended up on the committee. I think they just wanted to bring the average age group down to 60.

That’s Entertainment

Went to the doctor again today. He signed me off until next Thursday because he still isn’t happy with sounds coming from my chest. Quite frankly I don’t like them either and every time I cough I feel like I’m drowning in my own fluids.

After getting my breath from the 10 minute outing to the doctors and back, plus another $40 on prescriptions. I took my new medication and turned on the telly. I’ve watched just about everything I’ve recorded, called me silly, but I’m not in the mood for Alien right now. I don’t need to see anything with mucus.

So I flicked on TCM (Turner Classic Movies). Two Weeks in Another Town was showing. Filmed a couple of years after Spartacus, Kirk Douglas was in fine dimple chinned form as a washed up actor in Italy discovering the way out of his troubles. I rather enjoyed the innocence of the plot. So I carried on watching when the next movie started. Meet Me in Las Vegas.

This is when I notice a theme. Turns out TSM is having a Cyd Charisse month. So this evening’s tele-visual entertainment is being provided by Cyd Cherisse and friends. Her friends being Fred Astaire, Gene Kelly, Donald O’Connor and Debbie Reynolds.

Currently watching The Band Wagon which gave us the song That’s Entertainment, later I get to watch the classic Singin’ in the Rain.

I’d forgotten how much I love a musical!

Let's all singa song and dance! :-)

Triple Zero

I got into bed last night and I heard a pop, experienced eye watering pain and rapidly curled into a ball clutching my right knee. After a few seconds I managed to straighten out and found myself lying on the bed, starkers with my knee fixed and bent. Trying to move my knee resulted in searing pain down to my ankle and up to my hip. When I tried to move myself up the bed, any pressure on my right side caused pain in my knee.

I was well and truly stuck.

For over an hour I tried various things to straighten out. It was not to bad when I folded it up ore, but attempts to straighten resulted in pain like I haven’t experienced since first had my hip rebuilt 18 years ago. It hurt…A LOT

After an hour, I decided I only had one choice left. I’d texted a couple of mates to see if they were still awake (did I mention this started at about half past midnight) and received no response. So I called the Police Assistance line. After explaining the situation to the lady she asked to me,

‘Ma’am, if you are alone, and can’t move, it is an emergency. Hang up and call triple zero.’

I hung up.

Less than eleven minutes later an ambo officer was climbing through my kitchen window to my rescue.

A little massage later and another crunching pop sound and I was able to move my knee freely with a little residual pain.

I explained about having whooping cough and being mostly immobile for a week and before that having been on one crutch to support my right hip. The ambo guy hypostasised that this little incident may have been caused by my muscles and ligaments twisting suddenly due to the excess work of over compensating for my hip followed by mega rest.

If it happens again, I have to seek medical assistance.

They left by the front door having given me pain killers, propped my knee up and giggled at my embarrassment about having no clothes on.

ANTM 11-5

The French chick is bringing everyone down in the house, very negative.
A photoshoot of natural disasters saw a couple of the girls fall flat.

Clark went home

Isis and Hannah went home in 11-4

Ohh and I have whooping cough, been off work since Friday thanks to my friend who sits near me at the office.

National Week

It’s National Asbestos Awareness Week.

Check out these links. One is a newspaper story, the other an amazing series of portraits

Caught in the Act

So, I'm sat on the sofa watching Casino Royale tonight. Puss is curled up next to me. I hear a thud in the kitchen and turn round. This is what I see...

This little bastard is getting bolder and bolder.

Pass the Port

A couple of weeks ago I mislaid my passport. OK, I dropped it on the way to have it photocopied by my new employer. Anyway… after reporting it and asking the lost property people to keep an eye out for a couple of days I reported it to the police. I set myself a cut off, if it hadn’t been found by Wednesday at noon, I was going to call the Passport office and tell them I was a idiot.

Wednesday (last week) dawned and I hadn’t heard anything. I called the police, gave them my reference number and was told, nothing had been handed in. I looked up the number of the passport office on the web.

At 11.55 my mobile rang.

It was the Canberra Passport office. Some nice citizen of Sydney had found my passport and mailed it to them. I was informed that it would be sent to the Sydney office and I would have to pick it up from there.

I went down there today and ended up waiting for nearly an hour and a half while they found it. Yes, they had temporarily misplaced it.

But, it’s OK. They found it and now I have it back :-)

Saucy Pasta

I like to catch up on the news in the morning. Obamas kids seeing their new bedrooms in the White House and petrol prices dropping aside, this story caught my eye and this line in particular:

‘A search of his car found pornography, women's stockings, a home-made sex aid and a Jack Russell terrier.’

Why do stories like this keep making the news? I know they are amusing, but is it really news?

Feeling Unwell?

The place where I work relies on Lotus Notes databases for everything. And I mean, EVERYTHING! This has its painful side, in so much as you can’t find anything and most of the stuff is hopelessly out of date.

On the plus side, you can get lost for hours looking for stuff if you want to hide. It’s like a lovely big, dimly lit warehouse full of dusty boxes. You can walk in the door with the intention of looking for, say, stocktake documentation but end up silently giggling at Incident reports.

I did such a thing the other day. It was like one of those chain email joke thingies about insurance claims. It’s not just the incident, most are boring, it’s way they’ve been written up that makes you laugh. You get this picture in your head of someone falling over or whatever, not in itself funny, but when it’s written like this*…

- Customer felt dizzy while standing at the checkout
- Employees feet were sore from blisters on her feet while walking
- Xxx was at the register talking to her colleague when she noticed her nose was bleeding
- Long term issue with walking on right
- Staff member had panic attack (mental illness)
- Xxx was walking on the shop floor when he felt a twinge in his groin
- Staff member sprained his ankle at home whilst walking too fast on an uneven surface
- Member was playing football outside of work hours away from place of employment when member sustained a hard tackle

There are countless incidents of both staff and customers having sore and blistered feet from both new and old shoes, which tell me that if you are shopping or standing all day, there are no ‘comfortable’ shoes.

It made me realise too that every first aider is an amateur doctor. Terms like myocardial infarction and viral infection litter the reports like a tickertape parade, but they have no way of knowing the cause of the problem.

My personal favourite though has to be one that isn’t all that funny, but does have an element of ‘what the…’ about it.

Xxx has a personal illness. Returned from lunch and felt dizzy and had partial loss of sight. (brain tumour)*.

What the hell? IT'S PERSONAL!



* names have been deleted and slight editing of content has taken place.

Sex and Politics

I’ve always been told that you shouldn’t discuss money, sex or politics in polite conversation. However, a new political party in the great brown land of Australian is preposing to talk about sex and politics in the classroom.

How awesome is this…I wonder if they’ll get any votes?

Jumping Hoops

I’ve been at my new job with the department store for just over two weeks. I don’t like it very much as you may have seen. My views haven’t really changed much.

This morning the woman who sits in the seat opposite me and with whom I have spent countless hours in meetings with announced that her doctor had told her what was wrong with her.

Now, on my first day (two weeks and one day ago) she told me that her boyfriend was off sick from work and they thought he had chicken pox. That first week she was coughing and spluttering all over the shop with a ‘bit of a cough’, last week she was off for three afternoons and one whole day. She’s ‘so busy’ that she couldn’t stay away. She’d come in for the morning, cough all over us, and then leave in the afternoon.

She has whooping cough.

Why do people do that. If you are sick...stay at home and keep your highly contagious bacterial infections to yourself.

A Christmas Meme

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? Wrapping paper with ribbons
2. Real tree or Artificial? neither, just being me, I do with a massive santa who sits in the corner
3. When do you put up the tree? Any day in december
4. When do you take the tree down? just after new year
5. Do you like eggnog? you mean snotnog?
6. Favourite gift received as a child? Archie
7. Hardest person to buy for? any bloke
8. Easiest person to buy for? any woman
9. Do you have a nativity scene? Nope
10. Mail or email Christmas cards? Cards and a newsletter, which reminds me...
11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? pipe glue
12. Favourite Christmas Movie's? the Sound of Music
13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? when ithink about it or can afford too
14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? yeap...
15. Favourite thing to eat at Christmas? fruit jellies
16. Lights on the tree? what tree?
17. Favourite Christmas song? Two Little Boys by Rolf Harris (I know it's not technically a christmas song)
18. Travel at Christmas or stay home? Christmas Day, at home to veg out, then travel.
19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeer's? Rudolf, Donna, Blitzen, harry, bob, cyril, albert and bob 2...ehh only a couple ;-)
20. Angel on the tree top or a star? Fairy, Ohh Todd, you'll be missed
21. Open the presents Christmas morning or afternoon? Am I getting presents this year?
22. Most annoying thing about this time of the year? Too weird having fake snow in teh window when it 35 degrees outside.
23. Favourite ornament theme or colour? Red and gold
24. Favourite for Christmas dinner/meal? champagne breakfast with scrabbled egg and salmon
25. What do you want for Christmas this year? to have no more money worries
26. Who is most likely to respond to this? Todd
27. Who is least likely to respond to this? Simone

ANTM 11-3

Racism and bigotry rose its head again this week. One of the girls claimed to be the 'ultimate white girl' after pushing Isis away from her in the hot tub. The coloured girls in the house decided to confront her about it. Tears were shed. Nothing more was said.

A touch of hooch and class had Jay admonishing and praising in equal measure.

Nikeysha was the second go home.

Slighty Bent

I read with interest today that there has been a rise in the amount of American parents naming their babies after the new President-elect. Thought you might be interested in the origin and meaning of his name.

The meaning of the name Barack : Blessed*
The origin of the name : African
Notes about the name : form of the Hebrew name Baruch

The meaning of the name Obama : Slighty bent*
The origin of the name : African
Notes about the name : From the rare Luo (Kenyan) name, meaning a baby born with a bent arm or leg or possibly a breech birth.

So, does this mean the leader of the free world will be led, from January 2009, by a blessed, slighty bent, African Jew? I know not, but given the generalised beliefs, feelings and thinking of the citizens there, I wouldn't have thought they'd be too happy about that, if they knew what you now know.

Personally, I think it's great, not having yet another old white guy in the slighty not round room. He can do it.

*Source: http://www.babynames.com/

Hunger

I find myself in a constant state of hunger. I can’t really explain why this would be so, because now that I’m working I had a massive fruit salad and big cup of tea for breakfast.

It’s 10.44am right now and I’m f*ckin’ starving!

My tummy is hollow, it’s gurgling and I really feel the need to eat a greasy bacon and egg sandwich.

Is it because I’m bored?

Train Trip

I was standing on the platform at Merrylands station this morning, waiting for the 7:31 to the City Circle listening to the melodic tones of Camille Saints-Saens, readying myself for the week ahead when the train rounded the corner.

I could see the driver that would take several hundred commuters including myself to destinations from West to East.

He was laughing merrily while talking on a hand-held mobile phone.

Suddenly I was feeling less calm.

New Job

My first three days back in employment have been entertaining. Actually maybe entertaining isn’t really the right word to describe my time so far working for one of the countries oldest department store.

Entertaining would imply I have experienced some of the following emotions or feelings; charm, cheer, delight, enjoyment, fun, pleasantness, relaxation, when in fact I’ve experienced more of these; disgust, awfulness, disagreement, horror, nausea, objection, outrage, repugnance and overall feelings of yuck!

It’s a culture thing I think, it’s just the old-fashioned 'Are You Being Served?' work environment/ethics that turns my stomach, and my hip into a pain centre.

So the first thing giving me a problem is the lack of flexibility of working hours. There is NO room for manoeuvre. You start at 8.30, have one hour for lunch and leave, not before 5.30. You can only leave early if you have prior permission from your manager. Anyone who actually knows me will know I’m not a morning person and the wake up time for this time schedule means my alarm is set for 0645. This is not good, I've already forgotton to put in earrings and clean my teeth. In previous roles I have had understanding managers that have realised I do not need to be treated like a child to get my work done. I do the hours, effectively but at a slighter later time. This has meant they haven’t seen me in before 9.30 unless I actually have a meeting to attend and if I am at an early meeting I'm not sat there like a zombie nursing a massive cup of caffine.

An unforseen problem with the start time is the travel issues. The trains at that time in the morning are chockers. I have had to stand on every trip so far, bar one. OK it sucks that the train system here is woefully under capacity, but for me having to stand on a moving train that lurches and stutters means footing can be lost and results is sudden and forceful pressure put on my hip. Today this showed itself in a shooting pain from my hip to my knee and through my groin, resulting in a limp that I haven’t had for over three years. Continuing to limp is the start of pain throughout my body and general extreme grumpiness. Lack of sleep will only compound this issue. By having flexible work hours I can get a seat and not have hip issues. Makes for an all round happier interaction for everyone involved.

Here's the other thing…a little scheme for head office staff so they can share the shop floor experience and see what the sales staff deal with on a day to day basis. It involves giving time as an information person standing at the top or bottom of escalators and assisting customer with enquiries. I’m sorry, but I know what shop staff goes through. I’ve done my time in retail and I left it because on a whole, customers are wankers and they are rarely right. I’ve been lucky so far and been ‘allocated’ weekday slots but weekends could be assigned. You’ll find me manning an escalator for the last three trading hours on Christmas Eve.

Don’t get me started on the no paper towels in the bathrooms or the not allowed on the shop floor during work hours or if your bag is bigger than a pea you have to leave it in an open area by the staff entrance or the no bins under desk policies…

All that said…the projects and people I’m going to be working with/on until I get the flock out of there, look like they could be interesting.

ANTM 11-2

It was the second episode this Tuesday, but I only got to see it tonight. I’m a little repulsed by the bigotry being shown towards the pre-op transsexual, Isis. She has earned her stripes in a photo shot depicting the lack of political privacy despite the nasty girls saying things like ‘the bright light may burn of those hairs’ and ‘you need to shave’.

The nastiest was kicked off in the first cut - Sharaun

Congratulations

Mr. and Mrs. Barack Obama made history yesterday by being elected the new President and First Lady of the free world. Well done to all those that didn’t throw their vote this year.

I was reading the Sydney Morning Herald’s letter pages earlier today and I liked what a couple of the contributors had to say, so i thought I'd share;

As a strong supporter of Barack Obama, there is just one thing I would like to say. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Sarah Palin. - Keith Perkins Dubbo

I would hate to be a moose in Alaska. - David Graham Wahroonga

It's Begun Again

I know I’ve mentioned this before, but I have to say it again. Don’t call me between 7.30 and 8.30pm on a Tuesday night. My program will be on.

Americas Next Top Model Cycle 11 has begun, just one week after the end of cycle 10. Incidentally, Whitney won that one, she was a plus size model. Rock on Girl!

This year there are three girls called Brittany, one Asian (half Japanese/Korean), one African/Native American, one blond chick that looks like she’s out of Gossip Girl, one lesbian vegan, one from France, one with a boys name and one with a boys bits and a couple of other that don’t have anything to make them stand out.

Frame your face and look fierce people!

My Second Degree ...

... sunburnt right leg.

Last week I fell over in Coles. I slipped on some water from the flower buckets as I made my way to the checkout with a fresh cooked chock for lunch. I bruised my ankle, my knee and twisted my hip. I was sore.

When I got back to the house J made me sit down and rest in case I had done more damage than at first visable and I choose to sit outside, but in complete shade. I sat down and read my new issue of Empire and then went in to house to shower. Later, I was watching telly and my leg was itching a bit, so I scratched it a bit. It hurt an lot.

I looked and my leg was scarlet from the ankle up to the knee and across my shin. I can't figure how it happened, I was in the shade!

It's the worst sunburn I have EVER had. A wet towel over my leg the first night, keeping my leg out of the shower until this morning (five days later) and aloe vera lotion until a couple of hours ago. Ouch!

Alone Again

The visitor has gone. After ten days of having someone in the house with me day and night, it seems really empty and quiet. We didn’t really go out and about that much apart from the functions that had been booked, but we did drink wine and Long Island Iced teas from Hell, talk about girlie crap like shoes, the fit of bras and how f*cked up we are right now. We ate bacon and egg sandwiches, cheese, beans on toast and generally chilled out.

There are some things I won’t miss though. I won’t have to worry about Puss taking a chunk out of someone other than me (how's the toe, J?), I won’t have to bother putting my dressing gown on when I come out of the shower, I will be able to dine on crisps and I won’t have to boil the kettle several time a day for tea. I will also be able to fart when and were I like.

That said, I now have a new respect for the dancing possibilities of trance music. Anyone for the kangaroo boop?

Visitor

Got a mate staying with me at the moment. It’s really nice having the company. Puss is good, but it’s pretty hard having a decent conversation or even a silly one about nothing much, with a cat.

And because I have a guest, I have to entertain. Well I don’t HAVE too, but I like too. So over the weekend we went up to the Central Coast to see the pelican feeding at The Entrance but ended up going to the Forest of Tranquillity instead. It was very tranquil.

Yesterday we raided Coles and brought up their stocks of decent cheese and crackers, did and emergency stop outside the Cheesecake shop and picnicked at the Polo in Windsor.

Conspiracy

In recent days I have been watching a lot of telly. My house is spotless, my linen cupboard has neat piles of towels and bedsheets and I have no ironing to do. I’m not working and having issues filling my time. Telly is my comfort.

Or it should be.

There seems to be an inordinate amount of movies and telly programs about the loss of a loved one or movies that remind me of my childhood.

In No Reservation a young girls loses her mum in a car accident, goes to stay with Auntie Catherine Zeta Jones and worries that she’ll forget her mum.

Carousel always made me cry, especially the bit at the end when Billy Bigalow’s daughter and wife sing ‘You Never Walk Alone’. I really shouldn’t have watched that one.

The Nanny, an old favourite, happened to show the episode were Maggie (eldest daughter) has an issue with Fran and Mr. Sheffield relationship because she thinks they were having an affair when her mother was still alive.

It seems I’m being forced to think about my Muv at every turn. I even had a dream about her last night. I had the worst nights sleep for an age mainly because the dream showed me that she was really alive and had watched the whole funeral process with her arms crossed and shaking of her head.

I need to come up with something other than cleaning to occupy my mind. I’m thinking too much (and leaky eyes) and quite frankly if I don’t get a job soon to keep my mind off the last few months I’m going to turn into a gibbering wreak.

I may be going to the polo at the weekend. That will be nice.

Too young

I was sitting on the train the other morning going into the city for yet another agent interview when a young Japanese girl got on and sat in the seat directly in front of me. She looked to be in her late teens, but could have been I her twenties. She had her hair in braids in a very Miffy way. She sat there preening herself for about ten minutes without a mirror. I had my iPod plugged in and watched her as I listened to The Offspring describe The Worst Hangover Ever’ and asking to be ‘Spared the Details’. I was thinking about my worst ever hangover that happened while in New York when I noticed sprouting from the top of her head a single course white hair.

I watched as she fiddled about for another few minutes…but the hair was firmly in my focus. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I dug into my bag and tapped her on the shoulder. I handed her my compact. She thanked me profusely with little bows that where restricted by her seated position. Then she looked and sorted out her hair until the light caught the hair. She gasped. Grabbed the hair and tugged. It came out clean. She handed my compact back to me.

As she got off the train at Central she turned to me and said, ‘I’m too young to go grey.’ I smiled and remembered my first grey hair. I was 24. I haven’t seen one since.

Black and White

Since Puss and I moved into our new place in March there has been a black and white menace. We don’t know what his name is, but he torments Puss and occasionally gets in a good shot that leave Puss with a scab on his nose.

Since I’ve been back for the UK I’d been noticing that Puss had amended his eating habits. He cleaned his bowl and ate all of his biscuits. At least this was my thinking until the other night.

I was sitting on the sofa with Puss curled up at my feet when I heard noise from the kitchen like Puss was eating. I checked my feet, yeap, Puss was there, so I turned my head to see the Black and White cat from next door sitting at Puss' feed station tucking into his biscuits.

A couple of nights later, it happened again. So I chased him out of the house and saw Puss curled up fast asleep on his chair on the porch.

So now I have a problem. It would appear this has been happening for a while. He's so bold he does it even when he can see me sat on the sofa. He knows Puss is pampered and get better food than he does. How do I keep the little shit out without punishing Puss but keeping him locked in?

Updating

I spent the best part of my evening sorting out pictures of places I visited while in the UK and uploading them to my Facebook. I realised that I didn't take full advantage of being there for such a long time. I have by no means finished sorting, but I'm a good way through.

In between the sorting I interviewed two housemate candiates. There is the 6'4 Dutch bloke with a name I can't pronunce who has a girlfriend and went a little wide eyed when I mentioned my writing of Erotica. Then there's the 5'8 bloke who sky dive on the weekends is an outdoor smoker and freely informed me he used to go to Fetish clubs at the mention of rudey nudey stories.

Anyway...a few pictures...

- Tintern Abbey in South Wales

- Chepstow Castle on the border of Wales and England

- Caerphilly Castle near Cardiff

Job Hunting

There's been little excitement lately except trying to sort out the Housesitter fallout. I've been spending my days looking at Seek and MyCareer then going into the city to visit agents. Ohh yeah and I've caught up on my movie watching and ironing.

A Moment

After a rather rotten day of visiting Recruitment agents being told my CV was too long, I was too experienced or not experienced enough for the role I applied for, I was too expensive or too cheap I got on the train home. I was listening to my iPod when I had a Muv moment. It may have been the music I was listening too that set it off, but I figure this is one in a long line of moments were water spontaneously leaks from my eyes and strangers avoid eye contact.

This memory was one from when I about 7. We were walking up Guildford high street and I said to her ‘you can never do anything to embarrass me.’

She promptly stuck her finger up her nose and I melted into a embarrassed pile that was begging her to stop.

The moment passed and I changed my tunes to something more upbeat…something in the form of The Offspring.

Air Travel

I changed my header quote today in direct response to my journey back to Aussie from the UK. Flying was always pain, but these days it’s a bitch.

I’ve never liked flying. I don’t like the small confined space you can call your own for the duration of the flight. I don’t like the boredom I always experience, even with a really good book. I don’t like the other passengers because they only think of themselves (seat back anyone?). I don’t like the pain I get in my ears when landing, ok it’s not as pain as it was before I had my wisdom teeth out, but it’s still there. Mostly, however, I don’t like the noises a plane makes. The subtle creeks and moans that wings make after take off and during landing and the time between. The noises the wheels makes as they clunk down and then clank and shudder back into their housing for in-flight stowage.

And of course now, thanks to a few religious zealots we have the process of getting on the plane. If you will indulge me for a moment I would like to talk you through my trip back from the UK from a purely flight focused point of view.

First it took 30 minutes to get into the car park at Terminal 3 at Heathrow. Then a further 10 minutes to get a lift down one level (stairs emergency only). Then I waited 25minutes to check in where I was allocated a middle seat. I checked my suitcase and showed my carry on luggage to the lady (a wheelie mini suitcase and an umbrella). I walked up to security, said my goodbyes to my sister and her hubby before queuing again to have my luggage scanned. I put the suitcase on the belt but was told I would have to surrender the brolly or check it (incidentally I took this brolley on a flight from the US to UK as hand luggage). I was escorted back downstairs to check the brolley. Back upstairs I had to queue again. When I got to the x-ray part again I had to remove my watch, my belt, my coat and shoes. After collecting my bags and getting dressed I had to have my shoes scanned again. I then walked for 20 minutes to get to my gate.

10 hours of flying between two Korean gents who didn’t speak English was not at all entertaining but Kung Fu Panda and The Bank Job was. The Korean lady in front of me (who didn’t speak English) thought I was causing trouble when I pushed her seat back up when she put it back the second the tyres left the tarmac. I spent the first twenty minutes after the seatbelt sign had gone off trying to explain that I really didn’t have an issue with her seat being back, just the timing.

Got off plane and walked to Transit area of Inchon Airport. Three hours to kill. No problem, the first 30 minutes was taken up by getting through a security check. Once again the belt, watch and shoes removed. Did a little shopping for gifts then went to gate lounge. Fell asleep, nearly missed flight call. Gave boarding pass to lady, went down escalators only the have to have carefully and precision packed bags opened, riffled through and checked before boarding plane.

11 hours of flying stretched out across three seats made the second leg pass very quickly.

Passport Control was good, Welcome Home.

Baggage pick up carousel 5, brolley at the big stuff pick up bay at the other end of the baggage hall. Picked up suitcase, then copped attitude for baggage bloke for waiting for an umbrella ‘when you could just buy one at a two dollar shop’. Joined queue to get out of baggage hall through the green channel. But you don’t just walk through a green or red channel anymore, you have to have ALL your bags scanned unless a nice lady/gent green stamps your entry card. A nice lady green stamped my card and I was out.

The food was good.

Hmmm...I wonder?

I was in a lift yesterday travelling to the 27th floor of a building in the heart of Sydney. Is it just me that thinks the when OTIS, the manufactures of the lift I was travelling in (and I'm sure hundreds of thousands around the world) should have given a little more thought to the locality of their Sydney operations?

Ricketty Street

Coming Home

I'm leaving the UK on Wednesday.

As soon as I changed my flights and decided to stop trying to make thing work here, my eye stopped leaking. Weird, but I suppose, I call Australia home.

My eyes...

... keep leaking and I'm having trouble getting out of bed.

A Scattering of Ashes

Last Saturday a select few, myself included dragged our arses to the top of Kingley Vale to scatter the last of my Mum’s ashes. It’s complicated, so here goes.

On the Friday after the Crematorium service (14th and 18th July respectively) my mums husband wanted a quiet scattering of ashes, as she had requested on the top on Kingley Vale in West Sussex. Only he’s 72 and not really capable of walking to the top, in fact he didn’t even make it to the base from the car park until his legs started playing up. We got to the first copse where I scattered and he watched in silence.

I really wanted to do a more fitting tribute, so I keep a few ashes back (roughly her feet) and arranged a seconding scattering at the summit.

So, on the 16th at 1pm, my sister Helen, her husband Chris, Marky my first love/very good friend and I met I the car park just north of West Stoke and commenced the climb to the top. I know you are thinking this all sounds very mountain climber speak when really it’s just a leisurely stroll up a hill. It is a leisurely stroll, if you go the right way. However, if the only person who’s done it more than a dozen times is in a green plastic tub, the second most familiar person hasn’t done it for nearly twelve years and the other three didn’t even know where Kingley Vale was until two days before, it’s very easy to go the hard way. And we went the hard way. For fifty minutes with clambered up the side of the hill at a 35degree angle, slipped in mud and nearly lost footing. But to the top we got, huffin' and puffin' except Marky who's related to the Enegiser Bunny!

At the top we were rewarded with 360 degree views of Chichester Harbour and the South Downs. After getting our breath back, we found a stick to act as a dibber and we planted sunflower seeds, had a gin and tonic, a laugh and a rolly. Then we scattered the remainder of my mum’s ashes. Helen held the tub with me and we all marvelled at the surreal nature of the whole day that had started with Big Mac’s for lunch (My mum loved Maccas, and no one ever really got it, except me). We even left a G’n’T in the bushes for later.

The path down was much easier.

Just this morning my sister said again that it doesn’t feel like she’s really gone, and I have to agree. Maybe it was because we lived in different continents, maybe it was because we would go without talking on the phone until we actually had something to say to each other (2 – 3 weeks), maybe because we’re both still in denial. Whatever the truth of this, I still think I have the realisation to come and when it does…it’ll hit hard.

Sydney Calling

Last night I was dreaming about emptying the bed pan of my ex (don’t ask) when the phone rang. 3amish I made it, but knowing it was more than likely an agent calling about a job in Sydney I rolled over without opening my eyes and answered.

‘Hello’

‘This is so and so for blah company, tell me, why are you interested in our Communications Manager role at this time?’

‘Err…’

All I was thinking was…I’m not interested in anything but sleep right now, lady.

I explained to her that it was early morning and that I didn’t have access to a computer at this time. She seemed to be surprised that she’d made an international phonecall and told me she’d email me. She hasn’t.

Music

What has my life become?

Tonight I have been chatting online with strangers (plus some mates) while watching 'The Top 50 Boybands' introduced by the Backstreet Boys. Ok so I got to see such gems as Take That, Milli Vanilli and Wham. aHa take on Me was number bythe way...but I also sat through New Kids on the block and several I'd never even heard of before.

All the while my sisters dog (Rosie) the seventeen year old black and tan jack russell laid at my feet and farted.

You call this Summer?

It’s Summer in the UK, or so the propaganda will have you believe.

For the last two weeks I have been wearing my Ugg boots and my UTS hoodie to keep the chill from my bones. I swear it hasn’t got above about 18 degrees during the day. I’ve been drying washing inside on a clothes horse, so it actually dries and doesn’t get rained on.

People have often asked me in Aus why I moved there and I say I have two reasons. Family and the Weather.

Then they ask…’ohh have you got family here?’

‘No’ is my reply.

So not having a satisfactory answer to the family question they ask about the weather. They ask if I miss the green fields and country lanes. I say, that yes I do miss the green fields, but they are only green because it rains so much. It rains all the fricking time!

With the rain come the ‘breeze’. Breeze my butt. The breeze here can knock you of a bike and make you lean into it like an Australian gale.

I watched the weather forecast last night, the map was covered in little 16s 17s and 18s and the colour of the map…orange! Doesn’t orange indicate that it’s warm and toasty? In Aussie those temperatures would be green, bordering on blue :-)

OK…soapbox going away.

By the way, I may be back earlier than first planned…what with it being Summer holidays here…jobs are proving elusive.

Happenings – Part Three

A funeral is never funforall. On the 14th July I was present at the cremation of my Mum. I read a eulogy that I had written and caused problem by using a certain word even though it was my Mum favourite saying. I also wore red. At her request I might add. She loved red!

Anyway, my Grandmother still isn’t speaking to me and I’m not completely sure what to do. Leave it, after all once I return to Aus it’s unlikely I’ll have much to do with her or write her the letter I have roughly composed in my head?

Ohh yeah...and what was with putting purple and lilac flowers on her coffin, my Muv figging hated purple and lilac?

Anyway, thought you might like to see the eulogy…feel free to ask question about bits that you don’t get.

Sally was known to many people by many different names, the old boiler, Big Sal, Daughter, Sister, Auntie and sometimes the cow. But to me she was simply Muv. Although there was nothing simple about her except maybe her talent for Maths and spelling. She cooked up a storm, sewed items of clothing that Vera Wang would be impressed by and tendered a garden Geoff Hamilton would be proud of. When it came to all things domestic, she rocked!

Her love for animals was legendary, she tendered injured pigeons and rabbits, but often dreamed of doing injury to the chickens as they dug up her veggies. But she with be most remembered for her love of cats and dogs, her furry children. First there was Lady, Jodie and Sorrell, later came Ben, Percy, Harry and little Freddie. No amount of love, time or attention was spared especially for walkies.

When it came to helping others she was always there, if it required salmon and sweetcorn quiche, pate, springrolls or death by chocolate all the better. I often asked her if I could have her reciepe for her amazing bread and butter stodge cake, but she also said, ‘Nope, I’m taking that to the grave.’ And she did.

We’ll always remember Muv for the mark she left on us. It may be her cooking skills, her caring nature, her ability to doris, her flirting, her dry and often sarcastic or perverse wit or maybe it was simply that she was too young to die.

I’ll always remember her for her amazing fashion (on a budget), her sage words, often about boys, her harsh truths and her ability to completely let her hair down even when she’d lost it all to Chemo. But most of all I’ll remember her as Muv.

The woman who gave me birth to me
The woman who gave me three dads
The woman who made me laugh and cry
And the woman who died just as she was starting to have some fun.

Muv – May you rest in peace and don’t let the bastards grind you down.

Happenings – Part Two

I’ve got a new Car. It’s a 199something Rover 112. Basically a Rover Metro. It’s British Racing Green, always good colour.

I had to get insurance and because I haven’t lived here (UK) for nine years I had trouble. The only company that would insurance me and my little runabout changed me more than I paid for the car. A whopping 395pounds for one year of insurance.

I’ve call her Doris. Why Doris, well, she sits really comfortably at 50mph and moans like a bitch if you get to 70.

Happenings – Part One

What’s been happening in my life?

Well, quite a lot actually. I’ve been to America, I’ve been to Korea, I’m now in the UK, I’ve been to a funeral, I’ve got a new car, I’ve been having job interviews and I’ve been dealing with the aftermath (emotions wise) of my Mothers death.

I suppose I should start at the beginning. America. I went to America as instructed by my Mum. I knew when I left her on that Tuesday it would be the last time I saw her, but as my Auntie said just after I expressed my desire to cancel again, “if you stay you send two messages, You don’t care about her wishes and you are saying she’s sicker than she wants to be’. Anyway, I boarded Virgin Atlantic flight VF45 with tears in my eyes. They turned to tears as I finished ‘The Household Guide to Dying’ by Debra Adelaide whilst sat amongst forty odd 16-17 years old American girls returning from their fist trip abroad. If they enjoyed themselves, I’ll never know because all they did was say how much they were looking forward to … ketchup in glass bottles, hotdogs, cherry pie and a myriad of other silly things. Granted I do the same about the UK when in Aus, but I don’t fill seven hours of flight doing it.

I’m going to skip over all the gory details and funny stories of America in favour of a listette (minor details) of the things I saw and the places I went with Todd and without. So here goes, ready?

Wed 25th June first evening – New York : Dinner of stuffed prawns with champagne. A trip to the Greenwich Village to see sex shops followed by a drink in a GoGo bar with stripper before moving on with our new friends to Splash. More drinks, late night.

Thu 26th June – New York : hideous hangover muted by a stack of blueberry pancakes in a genuine NY Diner. A walk round MoMA (Museum of Modern Art) then a wander down 5th Avenue (saw Abercrombie and Finch, Tiffany’s, Harry Winston and Trump Tower). Another short walk saw us tip Central Park and the Time Warner centre. Then I experienced a street vendor hotdog with everything before paying a visit to Manolo Blahnik (I brought two pairs). Over to the Rockafella Centre and a lift trip to The Top of The Rock. Nice views to be had from here without the queues of the Empire State building. We went back to the hotel (Sheraton Four Points 160 West 25th St) to dump shopping before jumping on a subway to Battery Park. Here I could see the Statue of Liberty through the mist. A walk via ice cream took us to the site of the World Trade Centre development and I saw a genuine NY Rat, drinking Budweiser in the corner of a graveyard. Dinner called and walk/taxi combo took us to Little Italy. Time Square was just a short cab ride away for final drinks of the evening in the Marriott Marquis.

Fri 27th June – New York, Philadelphia and Washington DC : An early start (hangoverless) saw us scaling the Empire State Building before the crowds. Great views and a touch of vertigo. Afterwards we had a New York bagel (I hear it the water that make them so soft) before a quick wiz around the Museum of Sex, what a disappointment. We picked up Todds car before hitting the road (the New Jersey Turnpike and the I95) South about 11. A stop to experience a Cinnabon (Danish with cinnamon and cream icing) before reaching Philadelphia. We started in the old City with Independence Hall, the Liberty Bell before walking to see Benjamin Franklin’s grave site (he was a publisher before being President) then to Betsy Ross’ house (she designed the first US flag, it had 13 stars in a circle). We then walked some more through Society Hill to South Street. There I had a Cheese Steak (hot dog roll with wafer thin steak and cheese) and a local Beer. With rain looming we got back to the car quick and went down to see the hot rowers at the Boat Houses. Then moved to the Rocky Steps via Love Park. I can’t remember the name of the museum, because all I see is Rocky running up the damn steps. I had my picture taken with the Statue of Rocky before it started chucking it down and we got back on the road to Washington DC. States I travelled through that day: New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware and Maryland.

Sat 28th June - Washington DC (Bethesda) : A day of rest, but we still managed to go shoe shopping at DSW, craft shopping at Michaels. I crashed out in the afternoon but was woken for dinner and drinks near Dupont Circle in the evening at the pub of one of the guys we met the first night in NY. Todd got laid, I slept peacefully.

Sun 29th June - Washington DC : Back on the tourist trail we started by picking up Todd friend Tim and having lunch in Shirlington before going to Arlington National Cemetry. There we saw the graves of Jackie O, JFK and Bobbie as well as seeing the changing of the guard of the Unknown Soldier. Quick trip to the Marine Iwo Jima Memorial on the way to the White House, The Capitol Building and the Supreme Court before the sun went down. Dinner was a Todd’s house with his sister Lisa and her family. Night time saw us popping out to see the Washington Monument and Lincoln (better at night, pretty with lights and less tourists)

Mon 30th June – Pittsburgh (Mars and Cranberry) : We drove to Pittsburgh with a pittstop in Breezewood where I had my first ever TacoBell. It was OK. We went to Todd’s brother house then his Dad’s. We had lunch with Dad and Susan at The Quaker Steak and Lube (hot wings) before going to see Grandma at the family farm. We saw a school bus depot and I pretended to drive one. After seeing Grandma we pooped over to Maconnell Mill State Park and swathe mill and a covered bridge. It was very picturesque. We went back to Todd’s brother before staying the night at his Dad’s.

Tues 1st July – Pittsburgh and Baltimore: Todd’s Dad and wife Susan came to the Warhol Museum with us. This is Todd’s Mecca, he may hate Pittsburgh, but he loves Andy. We drove to the Duquesne Incline and took a ride up the side of the hill to lunch on Mount Washington. We left Pittsburgh with the intention of going straight back to Washington. We were knackered. But along the way we stopped at Phantom Fireworks were Todd brought the gayest firework possible for the 4th July celebrations. While we drove we decided to catch a game of Baseball in Baltimore. The Orioles were playing Kansas City at home and Todd being Todd, we had seat in the front row next to the away team. ‘I want to see the sweat on their arses’ indeed.

Wed 2nd July – Washington DC : I took the train into Dupont Circle on my own and pottered all day. I walked bloody miles without really seeing anything. I was lovely. I had a leisurely lunch of salad then later a dinner at Bangkok Joes. It was very relaxing.

Thur 3rd July – Washington DC : Another day of not much. Prep for the 4th commenced with shopping for food, packing and dinner with friends of Todd. I got the call. I made Chicken Liver Pate at 2 in the morning.

Fri 4th July – Washington DC (Bethesda) : The party. I played hostess with the mostest but really I wasn’t there. Do you think anyone noticed?

Sat 5th July - Washington DC (Bethesda) : Todd went out and left me at home with a clear table, two empty scrapbook album and plenty of paper, sticky stuff, photos, memorabilia and time. I ate leftovers, there was heaps.

Sun 6th July - Washington DC (Bethesda) : Todd family drove down from Pittsburgh for lunch and tea. After they left we went for a drive to Rockville Pike. We went to see F Scott Fitzgerald’s grave before having a beer at Hooters. In the evening we went to Cobalt again and partook of Karaoke. I sang ‘Down Under’ and ‘She’s Always a Woman’ while Todd belted out ‘Don’t Cry for Me Argentina’ and ‘9 to 5’. We tried a duet of ‘You’re the One That I Want’ but Todd was off chatting someone up, so I did the first part with a complete stranger. A fair bit was imbibed.

Mon 7th July Washington DC (Bethesda and Dulles Airport) : We dorised all day after I’d finished my packing. At 1640 I boarded VS22 and too my upgraded Premium Economy seat and flew back to the UK.

One Month

A month has past since my mother passed away. I now feel I can give you all an update on what's been happening in my life over the last few weeks. I just need to write it.

My Mum

My Mother passed away last night at 1.30am UK time. She died peacefully in her sleep in her Mothers arms.

The Thousand Word Picture

Outing

Muv, Her Hubby and an Old friend and I went out for lunch today (she tested Mother/Daughter bond by nicking my last piece of Scampi) followed by a spot of shopping. Muv was keen to get out and about, but after three hours she was knackered and ready for home.

When we finally got there she was ready for a sleep and it was time for me to leave.

I told her I love her and asked her not to do anything stoopid while I was gone.

She told me to live my life doing the things I want to do, then told me to leave because she was getting upset.

I kissed her, said goodbye to my Gran (who ignored me) and drove away.

I had the first tears to Kate Bush.

First Cry

This Woman's Work by Kate Bush

Pray God you can cope
I stand outside
This woman's work
This woman's world
Oooh, it's hard on the man
Now his part is over
Now starts the craft of the father
(chorus)
I know you have a little life in you yet
I know you have a lot of strength left
(repeat 1X)(hook)
I should be crying
But I just can't let it show
I should be hoping
But I can't stop thinking
All the things I should've said
That I never said
All the things we should of done
That we never did
All the things I should've given
But I didn't
Oh darling make it go
Make it go away
Give me these moments back
Give them back to me
Give that little kiss
Give me your hand
(chorus)(hook)

Forest Drive

A bright sunny day saw me in my new little car (more about that tomorrow) through the New Forest following an ambulance. In the back of the ambulance was my Mum on an outting home for a couple of days.

Once there, she sent my Nan and her Hubby out for BigMac, fries and vanilla milkshakes. I finished the pedicure I started yesterday and painted her toenails.

When I left at seven she was in good spirits, but that may have the knowledge that a bottle of Bombay Sapphire, tonic and a lemon were sitting on the side in the kitchen should the mood take her.

Pedicure

This morning my Mum was perky again. She was up and bathing at 11, ordering lunch and sitting in the arm chair looking out the window by noon. It's the first time she's been out of bed (apart from loo trips) since I arrived Thursday. After her bath I gave her a pedicure and foot massage. She asked me to buy her some nail varish so I can paint her toes tomorrow.

The Doc was very pleased and announced she would surprise us all, but when asked by my Mum if she could have more Chemo, he replied, 'there's no point in that if it's going to kill you.' He also mentioned to her that I was worried about leaving her to go to America despite her saying it was Ok. He response, 'she's got to go.' So despite my gran never speaking to me again, I'm going to go to the States as planned and send her pictures as she has requested.

This is the hardest thing I have ever done, because when I leave that hospice on Tuesday, it may be the last time I ever see my Mum.

She took a slight down turn after lunch and had to get back into bed for a kip.

I'd spent some time in the hospice garden early in the morning (I was up again at 6.30) and took a couple of photos with my phone.

[1. the back of the hospice where all rooms have double doors opening out onto the garden. 2. the bird feeding area and fish pond]

Update 2157 22/6/08 : Just spoke to the hospice, after a kip after lunch she was the brightest the hospice nurses had seen her. She went to sleep around 9pm.

Sleep and Drugs

My mum didn't wake up until about 2pm today. She sugested that the new drugs were making her sleepy. The Doc informed me that she was on exactly the same dose as before, just in a different form. Then he told me what was making her sleepy.

When you breath out you produce Carbon Dioxide, I'm sure you know this, he says.

When you breath as shallowly as your Mum is breathing you keep some, too much, of that carbon dioxide in and it makes you drowsy. He waits for me to respond. I nod and making a hmmming sound.

Eventually her breathing will be so shallow that more carbon dioxide will stay in than comes out and she will slip into a coma. Again I nod and hmmm

If she continues as she is today, it's my belief that she may not be here when you get back from America.

18,500

I posted off my final Masters paper yesterday. It's called 'Hidden Kinks' and is 18,500 words long. This means I have completed my Masters.

There with be a graduation ceremony in October and I'm pretty sure I've passed, so I may get to go.

Woh Who! ;-)

Sunshine

The sun has just come out. It's the longest day here in the UK. While sitting in the family room of the hospice I have been lucky enough to see magpies, pheasants (male and female) a woodpecker, a rabbit, a squirrel and blackbirds. It's a lovely peaceful place to spend your final days.

I told Muv the other day I was going to cancel my trip to America next week. She told me she'd be angry with me if I did. She wants photos and tales of adventure when I get back because we were supposed to be Thelma and Louiseing in August and now she won't get the chance.

It's 11.30am and she's still asleep.

TUESDAY 17th June – part one

Woke up refreshed again, but I really needed to sort out the bed. It was so hard. After Breakfast I took off to another palace, Deoksugung. It looked the same as the one on Monday but I noticed that it was open until 9pm so I decided to come back and see it night. It might look different.

So I set off to a tea house. Walking.

I didn’t get lost as the road was fairly simple and clearly marked on the map. I walked along a pretty manicured lane with resting places and I even saw a traditional changing of the guard. I found the spot where the tea house was supposed to be, but the teahouse had closed and was now a coffee shop. Not the same thing at all. It was 29degrees and trying to rain. I wanted Tea!
[changing of guard]

I decided to walk some more. I carried on the same road, then hung a left at the end. I’d figured out I was actually quite close to the hotel and could walk back. A brief stop in the Agriculture Museum reminded me of school trips and how lucky I am not to be a farmer.

Walking let me think, but it also let me take in the mad cap stuff that motorcycle couriers put on the back of their bike here.
[mc eggs]

I sat for a while, it was only noon. What to do for the rest of the day?

I jumped in a cab, pointed at the picture on the map and said ‘Here, please.’
I had a cabbie that could speak broken English. It was the first real conversation I’d had for three days. He pointed at things and said the name; I repeated until I got it right then he would say, ‘very good, now you speak Korean’. As soon as I got out of the taxi at the bottom of the hill, I’d forgotten it all.

Seoul Tower is on top of a very high hill that taxis aren’t allowed up. I was looking at a two kilometre up a hill that I swear was 45degrees. Luckily after about 30 yards, a bus pulled up and for a paltry 800 won I took me to the top.

Standing 236 metres it’s the main telly and radio antenna for Seoul, and like Centrepoint in Sydney, you can jump in a lift and visit the viewing platform. Unlike Sydney it doesn’t cost and arm and a leg (A$26.00). It was just 12,000 won, about A$10. I saw loads of stuff from there, have a drink and rice ball and even got to send a postcard or two.
[1. Seoul Tower. 2. the Seoul suburbs ]

After that I went downstairs to ready myself for the walk down the hill. But there was a Traditional Warcraft display about to start. The men were there in their traditional costume that kind of reminded me of the Wicked Witch of the West’s guards from the Wizard of Oz. It was lovely. They also had all sorts of weapons, very Wizard of Oz, especially the tridents.

I sat down on the steps and waited. While I did I took a few group shots for groups that were there. One family (from China, it turned out) took a shine to me and each member of the family had their photo taken with me. I could hear them telling the family holiday stories, ‘and this is the white woman who took our picture, with mum…with dad…with son…with daughter…with grandma (yes also got in on the action)…with other daughter and with third daughter.’ As a thank you they gave me a banana and a drink. It would have been impolite to refuse.

TUESDAY 17th June – part two

The display started. It was awesome!
[1. Marching into the arena. 2. Knife things. 3. Swordman. 4. Tridents. 5. Swordman in action]

I walked down the hill, on the way buying myself a ice-cream. a sweetcorn ice-cream, it was surprisingly very nice It was hard work and by the time I got to the bottom I had loads of pictures of flowers and my hip hurt a lot. Downhill is always the worst.
[flower with bumble bee]

Another taxi and more pointing at the map. I went to the Markets. I wanted to get some tea, tourist crap (t-shirts etc) and I needed another bag. I ate from vendors while there, donuts, fruit and dumplings, but I couldn’t find Boisintang, also known as dog-meat soup. It was my mission, but it was not to be. Disappointed I left the markets.

A brief stop at the hotel to change, and then I was out again. It was nearing dinner time and I planned to walk back to the palace from earlier after eating. I had Bulgogi. It was Ok, but not what I had my heart set on, plus the waiter was odd. As soon as I’d picked up the menu he hovered. I asked for time, but the language got in the way and he stayed put, so I ordered something I knew.

[bulgogi dinner with all the side bits]

The palace was just across the street, so come dusk I was in there. 1000 won gets you entry, so I had no trouble paying for a second time in one day.
[1. palace entrance by night. 2. Eaves detail. 3. Door detail. 4. Decortive pot.]

Back at the hotel, I packed my bags ready for the morning bus back to the airport, knowing I had excess baggage.

Frailty

I spent the day with my Mum yesterday. She was in good spirits considering on Tuesday the reality of her situation hit her. The worst part for me is how old and frail she looks conpared to just one month ago when I saw her. She has little to no muscle left and can barely walk, she spend most of her time asleep in bed. They have stopped all treaments except morphine.

I'm off the America in a week for 13 days. The nurses have suggested it might be good to make my Mum understand that I'll be OK without her. Yesterday when I arrived she (my Mum) asked me how much I knew.

'Pretty much everything now.' I replied

'So you know I'm going to pop my clogs then?'

'Yes, Muv.'

Then she told me she was worried about me. At this point my Sister and my MumsHusband left the room. We had a chance to chat,briefly. It was later when I discussed the lenght of time left with nurses that I suggested cancelling my trip. They suggested it might be good to take it.

So this week, I'm staying at the Hospice on the edge of the New Forest in Hampshire to spend quality time with her. She sleeps a lots and seems surprised to see me everytime she wakes up.

Monday 16th June - Fish Outta Water

I woke on Monday feeling a bit stiff from the hard bed, but pretty refreshed. I wandered down to brekkie and perused the Lonely Planet guide to Seoul. I decided to take in a Palace. My choice was Changgyeonggung and Jongno. They are right next to each other on the map! Then I wanted to go to a traditional Korean Embroidery Gallery. Armed with two little cards that hotel receptionist had written for me in Korean I jumped in a cab.

[there are loads of pictures of the palace, so I thought a few detail might be nice]

The Palace was amazing, built in 16something, then burned down then rebuilt. It was made op of about ten buildings and manicured lawns and gardens. There wasn’t much wildlife to be seem, but then the Palace in the middle of the city. I did see many Black Magpies, which when seen means you should expect the arrival of a welcomed visitor, and a chipmunk.

That I had not expected to see.

[how cute is this?]

[a butterfly, just becasue I was chuffed it actually came out]

[The abandoned gardening gloves. I just liked this image]

After I had wandered around the palace and gardens for over two hours I moved on, I didn’t get to see Jongno. But I did get lost in a taxi. Yes, Korean cab drivers don’t know were they’re going either. Despite being given the card with the name of the gallery and an address, he dropped me in a back alley next to a gallery of Acrylic paintings, nice, but not what I was after. He had, however dropped me in nirvana. Now this I can believe in. He had dropped me in the heart of (i need to find name of the region...give me a week:-), the artists and handcrafts district. For the next three hours I walked along little streets, looking at paintings, fans, linens, jewellery, ceramics and sculptures. I did spend some money, I confess. But nearly as much as I could have.

The way you buy fabric on bolts here they sell paper like that, beautiful, handmade papers in every colour under the sun. And the brushes, let’s not get started on the brushes, that are made from weasel, fox or goat hair and sometimes have bamboo handles but can also boosts ceramic, turned wood and metals.

[this old shop keepers was very helpful to this mad white bird in awe of his wears]

I attempted to walk back to the hotel, but got a bit confused. I was over ten kilometres away. The policeman I asked for direction just said, ‘that way’ and pointed. The next person I asked, did the same and laughed. I was thirsty and hungry because I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, it was four o’clock’, and I popped into somewhere that served food and asked for a drink. The little old lady looked at me as I pointed at the chillier cabinet and passed me what I asked for, a green 500ml bottle, and took 3000won from me. Not bad, three bucks. She tried to put it in a bag, I waved that I didn’t need one. I stepped back outside into to sunlight and ripped the top off. I took a huge gulp before inhaling and swallowing. It burned. I had purchased wine, commonly drank rice wine. At the next kiosk I got a bottle of iced tea. Did you know you can make tea from corn?

I waved down a cab. I showed him the Hotel card and asked, ‘can you take me here?’ He nodded and drove. I closed my eyes because the traffic was hotting up and I wasn’t feeling brave enough to watch.

I dumped of my purchases, wrote some postcards and set of to hunt for dinner. I could have cheated and gone to the Outback Steakhouse next door, or the McDonalds round the corner, even the KFC or Burger King, all where within easy walking distance. But no, I was on a mission. I wanted to try Bosingtang, aka dog meat soup. I walked, and walked some more. I looked at the menu pictures in the windows and even asked for it. It was not to be. I settled for something else I hadn’t had before. I don’t know what it’s called; I just pointed at the menu, shook my head and said, ‘no spicy?’
[my dinner as it appeared and as it appeared on the rather useful pictorial menu]

A head shake from the host confirmed it wasn’t, he was lying or confused by my question.

I find that despite this being a massively densely populated city that everyone is very polite. Even to dumbass white tourists like me. In one on the craft shops I was in a German family came in with three children, all drumming loudly on traditional drums. The shop girls bowed and said welcome with sincerity in their eyes. Even the road crossings talk to you; it could be saying, ‘wait ‘til I say you can go bozo.’ But I doubt it highly. I ventured into clothing and shoe stores on occasion to be told with a wave, ‘sorry, no size,’ with a smile. No ‘We don’t serve fat people here’ as I once experience in a high fashion shop on London.

It’s also really clean. The sand at the palace was combed and in spite of huge amounts of people, I saw no litter. I was looking. This is not a country with a issue in keeping itself clean, unlike India.

Sleep came easily about ten, after I watched ‘Let’s Go to Prison’ dubbed into Korean, I’ve seen it before and knew the plot.

Sunday 15th June - Day of Travel

After a fairly standard trip of ten hours on a plane I arrived in Seoul. Actually come to think about it now, it wasn’t really all that standard. My lift to the airport got a flat tyre that thankfully survived with just a pumping up with air rather than the full changing experience. Then the promise of cheap upgrade didn’t happen but I did get to sit in the window seat on the emergency exit, giving me heaps of leg room and a leaning spot, also the power to scream ‘we’re all gonna die’ in case of emergency. This was all slightly marred by the two gentlemen seating in the seats to my right reading ‘The Fourfold Gospel’ and ‘Greatest Sermons of the World’. I managed to avoid talking to them mostly, but when Pastor John, yes a pastor from outback NSW, tried to convince being faithless was the road to damnation I told him I did have faith, just not in the same thing/person he did. I was remarkable polite considering my general feelings about all things God related.

Upon arriving at the hotel (90 minutes and 160,000 Korean Won later) and checking in I popped out for supplies. Being in a suite, I had an empty fridge and a washing machine. Time for a spot of washing as I hadn’t left all my dirty washing to fester in the laundry bin for 6 months plus.
[Supplies W6500, Trip to get them $many, picture of prawn chips and cans of drink, priceless]

A shower later, I passed out on the bed.

PS. There approx. 900 Korean Won to the A$