PORT DOUGLAS- - Today is my last full day in Port Douglas and it's hard to push aside the feelings of melancholy. I don't want to leave.
It's not just the weather, which is perfect for me: mid to upper 80s F with bright blue sunny skies and a light ocean breeze.
It's not just the atmosphere: relaxed and friendly; five minutes' conversation at a craft fare turns easily into exchanged emails and recipes from moms.
It's not just my hosts: Christel and Wolfgang have included me in their circle of friends, sharing birthday champagne and balloons plus dinner with a small, but fun group of Germans and Aussies.
I'm not sure what it is, but I'll miss it.
Saturday, November 12, 2005
Friday, November 11, 2005
Birthday day
For those romantics out there that are wondering about Leg Shaver Guy, he was one of the first messages I received on my birthday. (Okay, my sister-in-law's cell phone call at 2:20 AM was technically the first!)
Normally, I would grant myself the luxury of sleep on my b-day, but on that day, I had a date with tropical fish and gorgeous ocean water. I was going to the Great Barrier Reef!
Quicksilver is a company that's been offering trips to the Low Isles for 18 years and it's my third time with them. We took off on a boat called Wavedancer. Okay, "boat" isn't the proper word. How about this: a huge blindingly white catamaran with a gigantic blue sail and room for about 150 people (we only had about 80).
Halfway to the Low Isles (inner reef), my cell phone rang! It was my mom, wishing me "happy birthday," so that was nice.
The difference in this Wavedancer snorkeling trip from past years was this year, we were strongly encouraged to wear "stinger suits" aka blue lycra bodysuits. The suit would keep us safe from "stingers," commonly known in the US as Portugese manowar or jellyfish. It also protects against sunburn. Honestly, the outfit included a hood and mitten-type things, so I was pretty much blue top to bottom.
Think Blue Man Group goes swimming!
I didn't care if they put me in armor, I was going out to visit the fishies! And, boy did I see a TON! of them including a sea turtle that swam right up to me! When I came across about a dozen medium-sized (half meter?) fish all chomping down on coral in the same spot like an aquatic McDonalds, I decided it was time for lunch.
The buffet on the Wavedancer was pretty cool with prawns, chicken, three kinds of salads plus a mango-orange drink to wash it all down. Of course, after finishing the full day of snorkeling, I switched to rum and coke (more on that later).
The second round of snorkeling didn't come as easily to me and I kept getting water in my mask. Finally, I got somewhat comfy. Keep in mind that all but approximately two inches of my entire body is encased in blue spandex.
I felt a tiny pinch on the right side of my upper lip, but I didn't see the offending fish (or coral or whatever), but decided the prudent thing would be to call it a day and find out if I was going to die or not (just kidding).
The divemaster told me that I probably got stung by sea lice. How glamorous is that?? A bit of ice on the spot and I should be fine. I decided that a bit of rum and coke would be much better. (The bartender - -a woman- - bought me my first rum and coke for a bday gift.)
Back on the boat, the Wavedancer crew had set up shop with various photos of each of us taken at the Low Isles. Yes, I'm a sucker, so I bought one of me in my famous blue bodysuit. If you bought two photos, you got a CD with fish and other scenes from the reef and our boat. I only wanted one photo, so no go. (But the photographer and I talked for a bit and he found out it was my birthday, so after I paid for my photo, I found he also included the CD as a gift! How cool is that?!)
Back to my apartment/hotel, I was all set to have champagne with Christel and Wolfgang, the German couple who own the complex. When I checked in earlier this week, Christel mentioned that she bought some champagne for my birthday. Is she great or what??
Several toasts later, the five of us (another German couple joined us) had killed only two bottles of bubbly, but it was time for me to go to dinner.
Another wonderful evening in Port Douglas included kangaroo loin in some fabulous au jus plus a passionfruit custard, mango and strawberry dessert. Watergate (the restaurant) is tucked in off the main street with huge palm trees and ferns shrouding it from the noise of the road. The staff was great, even showing me their resident green tree frog. They said I could name it, so I suggested "Cubby." We'll see if that sticks.
On the return trip from the Low Isles, the gang on the Wavedancer had been treated to a solo guitar player and singer. It was magical and I wasn't keen on this evening ending yet, so I found out that the singer was performing a few blocks from Watergate.
I caught the last set and the singer waved to me from behind the mic and said "Happy Birthday MJ!"
Up at 7 am and in bed soon after midnight, a bit more tanned and a tiny bit buzzed. All in all, a pretty fabulous 40th!
Normally, I would grant myself the luxury of sleep on my b-day, but on that day, I had a date with tropical fish and gorgeous ocean water. I was going to the Great Barrier Reef!
Quicksilver is a company that's been offering trips to the Low Isles for 18 years and it's my third time with them. We took off on a boat called Wavedancer. Okay, "boat" isn't the proper word. How about this: a huge blindingly white catamaran with a gigantic blue sail and room for about 150 people (we only had about 80).
Halfway to the Low Isles (inner reef), my cell phone rang! It was my mom, wishing me "happy birthday," so that was nice.
The difference in this Wavedancer snorkeling trip from past years was this year, we were strongly encouraged to wear "stinger suits" aka blue lycra bodysuits. The suit would keep us safe from "stingers," commonly known in the US as Portugese manowar or jellyfish. It also protects against sunburn. Honestly, the outfit included a hood and mitten-type things, so I was pretty much blue top to bottom.
Think Blue Man Group goes swimming!
I didn't care if they put me in armor, I was going out to visit the fishies! And, boy did I see a TON! of them including a sea turtle that swam right up to me! When I came across about a dozen medium-sized (half meter?) fish all chomping down on coral in the same spot like an aquatic McDonalds, I decided it was time for lunch.
The buffet on the Wavedancer was pretty cool with prawns, chicken, three kinds of salads plus a mango-orange drink to wash it all down. Of course, after finishing the full day of snorkeling, I switched to rum and coke (more on that later).
The second round of snorkeling didn't come as easily to me and I kept getting water in my mask. Finally, I got somewhat comfy. Keep in mind that all but approximately two inches of my entire body is encased in blue spandex.
I felt a tiny pinch on the right side of my upper lip, but I didn't see the offending fish (or coral or whatever), but decided the prudent thing would be to call it a day and find out if I was going to die or not (just kidding).
The divemaster told me that I probably got stung by sea lice. How glamorous is that?? A bit of ice on the spot and I should be fine. I decided that a bit of rum and coke would be much better. (The bartender - -a woman- - bought me my first rum and coke for a bday gift.)
Back on the boat, the Wavedancer crew had set up shop with various photos of each of us taken at the Low Isles. Yes, I'm a sucker, so I bought one of me in my famous blue bodysuit. If you bought two photos, you got a CD with fish and other scenes from the reef and our boat. I only wanted one photo, so no go. (But the photographer and I talked for a bit and he found out it was my birthday, so after I paid for my photo, I found he also included the CD as a gift! How cool is that?!)
Back to my apartment/hotel, I was all set to have champagne with Christel and Wolfgang, the German couple who own the complex. When I checked in earlier this week, Christel mentioned that she bought some champagne for my birthday. Is she great or what??
Several toasts later, the five of us (another German couple joined us) had killed only two bottles of bubbly, but it was time for me to go to dinner.
Another wonderful evening in Port Douglas included kangaroo loin in some fabulous au jus plus a passionfruit custard, mango and strawberry dessert. Watergate (the restaurant) is tucked in off the main street with huge palm trees and ferns shrouding it from the noise of the road. The staff was great, even showing me their resident green tree frog. They said I could name it, so I suggested "Cubby." We'll see if that sticks.
On the return trip from the Low Isles, the gang on the Wavedancer had been treated to a solo guitar player and singer. It was magical and I wasn't keen on this evening ending yet, so I found out that the singer was performing a few blocks from Watergate.
I caught the last set and the singer waved to me from behind the mic and said "Happy Birthday MJ!"
Up at 7 am and in bed soon after midnight, a bit more tanned and a tiny bit buzzed. All in all, a pretty fabulous 40th!
Haven't emigrated...yet
PORT DOUGLAS- - Okay, I've been pretty slack on my posting the last fews days, but if you had a choice between floating in impossibly blue ocean waves with bright sunlight on your face or sitting at a computer, which would you choose?
Okay, the past few days have been fabulously busy..no, that's not the right word. Occupied? (no, that sounds like WW II France). Exciting and fun, would be more like it.
A few days ago, I joined a group touring the Daintree Rainforest and Cape Tribulation (where Captain Cook crashed one of his ships "the place where my troubles began," he said, hence the name). While in the rainforest, we barbequed lunch at a privately owned spot in the middle of HUGE ferns and even bigger palm trees. After lunch, we swam in what can only be described as an idyllic freshwater pond. Think "Blue Lagoon" except with (some) clothes on.
I have some photos (that you'll, unfortunately, have to wait to see), but it was unlike anything I've ever done. I was splashing around in cool, clear water, surrounded by historic King ferns (pre-date dinosaurs!!!), Alexander palms, Madagascar palms, silky oaks, bismarkia palms, tree ferns, plus some very curious and friendly fish and a few tortoises. The slivers of sunlight broke through the rainforest canopy just enough to keep things from getting chilly.
Think "Beverly Hillbillies" and their "cement pond", but in reverse!
If you ever get up this way, the swimming hole was called Cassowary Creek.
Okay, the past few days have been fabulously busy..no, that's not the right word. Occupied? (no, that sounds like WW II France). Exciting and fun, would be more like it.
A few days ago, I joined a group touring the Daintree Rainforest and Cape Tribulation (where Captain Cook crashed one of his ships "the place where my troubles began," he said, hence the name). While in the rainforest, we barbequed lunch at a privately owned spot in the middle of HUGE ferns and even bigger palm trees. After lunch, we swam in what can only be described as an idyllic freshwater pond. Think "Blue Lagoon" except with (some) clothes on.
I have some photos (that you'll, unfortunately, have to wait to see), but it was unlike anything I've ever done. I was splashing around in cool, clear water, surrounded by historic King ferns (pre-date dinosaurs!!!), Alexander palms, Madagascar palms, silky oaks, bismarkia palms, tree ferns, plus some very curious and friendly fish and a few tortoises. The slivers of sunlight broke through the rainforest canopy just enough to keep things from getting chilly.
Think "Beverly Hillbillies" and their "cement pond", but in reverse!
If you ever get up this way, the swimming hole was called Cassowary Creek.
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Sun-induced amnesia
PORT DOUGLAS - -Well, I've done it. I've lost track of what day it is. That always happens to me when I'm in Australia. Not sure why. Could be because IT.JUST.DOESN'T.MATTER!!!
Okay, I guess it matters a little when I've booked a tour like tomorrow (Cape Tribulation...look it up!) and the Great Barrier Reef on Thursday for my birthday trip.
I've been in Port Douglas for two days now and it already feels like home. The heat and humidity is just what my psyche needed. Christel (the manager/owner of the apartments where I'm staying) bought me a bottle of "bubbly" for my birthday. Isn't that fabulous!!
I spent the better part of my first afternoon here just sitting on a promontory under some palm trees, watching the ocean (or to be more exact, the Coral Sea). It's amazing how hypnotic the incoming tide can be. With each wave, I could feel my shoulders relax and my mind open up to the sights and sounds of nature. It was so unbelievably beautiful and calming.
Sorry I don't have photos yet, but maybe some imagery will do.
A huge flock of parrots exploded from a nearby palm tree and as the cloud of green feathers turned en masse toward its destination, amid cries and squawks, the afternoon sun ignited their bright red breasts.
Geez, I could really get used to this.
Oh, before I forget. Leg Shaver Guy text messaged me today (yesterday too) and said he tried to send me the photo of him as a girl, but my email wouldn't let it through. Any ideas why?? I suggested he try my other email address, so we'll see.
Okay, I guess it matters a little when I've booked a tour like tomorrow (Cape Tribulation...look it up!) and the Great Barrier Reef on Thursday for my birthday trip.
I've been in Port Douglas for two days now and it already feels like home. The heat and humidity is just what my psyche needed. Christel (the manager/owner of the apartments where I'm staying) bought me a bottle of "bubbly" for my birthday. Isn't that fabulous!!
I spent the better part of my first afternoon here just sitting on a promontory under some palm trees, watching the ocean (or to be more exact, the Coral Sea). It's amazing how hypnotic the incoming tide can be. With each wave, I could feel my shoulders relax and my mind open up to the sights and sounds of nature. It was so unbelievably beautiful and calming.
Sorry I don't have photos yet, but maybe some imagery will do.
A huge flock of parrots exploded from a nearby palm tree and as the cloud of green feathers turned en masse toward its destination, amid cries and squawks, the afternoon sun ignited their bright red breasts.
Geez, I could really get used to this.
Oh, before I forget. Leg Shaver Guy text messaged me today (yesterday too) and said he tried to send me the photo of him as a girl, but my email wouldn't let it through. Any ideas why?? I suggested he try my other email address, so we'll see.
Saturday, November 05, 2005
Bye bye Perth
PERTH - - Well, I've checked out of my hotel and am officially homeless for about 8 hours until I go to the airport to fly to Cairns (and shuttle up to Port Douglas).
My first impressions of Perth are mixed. Of course, I'm sad to be leaving here. That's a familiar feeling whenever I travel, no matter how much fun I've had.
During past trips, I've visited Sydney, Melbourne, Cairns, the Gold Coast and Port Douglas, so I already know a lot about Australia. So many aspects of Australian life are so familiar to me, but Perth is new territory, at least to me.
I'd have to compare my first visit to Perth to spending a vacation with distant family members. There are moments of uncomfortable silence (not knowing what to do first), the getting-to-know-you phase (making sense of the city map and learning which street your hotel is on), and of course, the familiar stuff that convinces you that you really are family (beets on the burgers at McDonalds, "thank you" replaced by "no worries.")
On the whole, Perth is pretty cool. I mean that literally. It's been strange weather, hot sun-burning weather in the sun and sweatshirt weather in the shade. And windy! I've been told that Perth is the fourth windiest city on the planet. Yep, Chicago is No. 1. I think San Francisco is in there somewhere too.
If you ever come to Perth, there are some things you should definitely do (maybe 4 days worth, MAX!):
- wine tasting in Swan Valley (most of the Elizabeth River wines are processed here)
- day trip to Fremantle (see Fremantle prison - - built in 1850s, in use until 1991!!!!; visit Fremantle Maritime Museum - - much more interactive that I would have expected; hit the Fremantle Markets on the weekend, souvenirs plus fabulous fresh produce!)
- walk, picnic and hike in Kings Park and botanic gardens. I mention the hike part because a large chunk of Kings Park is recovering bushland and they let you picnic on the grass!
Of course, I'd have to say the highlight of my Perth visit was meeting Leg Shaver Guy. He flew home to Adelaide this morning. Even if I don't hear from him again, it was good practice.
My first impressions of Perth are mixed. Of course, I'm sad to be leaving here. That's a familiar feeling whenever I travel, no matter how much fun I've had.
During past trips, I've visited Sydney, Melbourne, Cairns, the Gold Coast and Port Douglas, so I already know a lot about Australia. So many aspects of Australian life are so familiar to me, but Perth is new territory, at least to me.
I'd have to compare my first visit to Perth to spending a vacation with distant family members. There are moments of uncomfortable silence (not knowing what to do first), the getting-to-know-you phase (making sense of the city map and learning which street your hotel is on), and of course, the familiar stuff that convinces you that you really are family (beets on the burgers at McDonalds, "thank you" replaced by "no worries.")
On the whole, Perth is pretty cool. I mean that literally. It's been strange weather, hot sun-burning weather in the sun and sweatshirt weather in the shade. And windy! I've been told that Perth is the fourth windiest city on the planet. Yep, Chicago is No. 1. I think San Francisco is in there somewhere too.
If you ever come to Perth, there are some things you should definitely do (maybe 4 days worth, MAX!):
- wine tasting in Swan Valley (most of the Elizabeth River wines are processed here)
- day trip to Fremantle (see Fremantle prison - - built in 1850s, in use until 1991!!!!; visit Fremantle Maritime Museum - - much more interactive that I would have expected; hit the Fremantle Markets on the weekend, souvenirs plus fabulous fresh produce!)
- walk, picnic and hike in Kings Park and botanic gardens. I mention the hike part because a large chunk of Kings Park is recovering bushland and they let you picnic on the grass!
Of course, I'd have to say the highlight of my Perth visit was meeting Leg Shaver Guy. He flew home to Adelaide this morning. Even if I don't hear from him again, it was good practice.
Sounds of Oz
Say the word "ground," but open your mouth as wide as possible with the "ou" sound.
Give it a try.
You've just reproduced the announcement made by my Perth hotel elevator when I reach the floor where the reception desk is located.
Love it!
Give it a try.
You've just reproduced the announcement made by my Perth hotel elevator when I reach the floor where the reception desk is located.
Love it!
Date with Leg Shaver Guy
PERTH - -Returning from a day trip to Fremantle (suburb of Perth with better nightlife, restaurants and museums), my phone did that annoying chime thing that always makes me smile. I've got mail!?!?!
It was Chris the Leg Shaver, the Aussie with whom I had drinks last night. (He had brought me a bottle of wine from South Australia - - his home state, of which he is very proud. Too sweet!)
We traded texts with the end result being he's leaving tomorrow on a 9:30 am flight back to Adelaide, so no chance for a breakfast together. He DID say that if the party tonight is a dud, he'll call me.
Oh, before I forget, the date:
We met in the hotel lobby bar and here I am with this Aussie guy who loves the NBA (although he's never been to the US much less an NBA game). He's tall with sandy blond hair. He likes to camp and bike ride. Complained a bit that he's out of shape (um, NO!)
Anyway, we belly up to the bar and he orders...a SINGAPORE SLING! a girlie drink!?!?! I suppress a smile when the bartender says they don't make those. I suggest a tequila sunrise (and secretly pat myself on the back for my bartending background and quick thinking). We have two, actually two each in the next hour or two.
Conversation was good and not nearly as strange as our first poolside encounter. I was a bit nervous, so of course, I talked too much! We talked about health care and how it's sooo different in the US. We spoke of travel and the wonderful locations that Mother Nature annihilated this year.
He invited me to come to South Australia for my next visit. Said he'd take me camping to the Flinders Ranges. Okay, my friends just dropped their collective jaws when they read that last line. YES! I HAVE BEEN CAMPING!
Contrary to many first dates that take place in a bar, there was no smooching, groping or any type of PDA.
Anyway, last call arrived (damned hotel bars and their early closing times!) and we walked toward the elevators. We arrived at my floor too quickly and when the doors opened, I thanked him for the drinks and the wine. He went for a hug and I went for a kiss (gimme a break!!! it's been a while, okay?!?) We managed both, but I think I surprised him with a kiss because he tried to hold the elevator doors open to continue our evening.
"Thanks again!" I said as he finally let the doors close.
Back to his text message today:
"Hi MJ. Hope you r having a great time in freo. I dont think i will see you b4 the dinner as i am off to pre dinner drinks. Will send you a picture! Will email you when i get home. Really would love to see you again X"
(Yes, he did end it with X.)
All together now....."Awww!"
It was Chris the Leg Shaver, the Aussie with whom I had drinks last night. (He had brought me a bottle of wine from South Australia - - his home state, of which he is very proud. Too sweet!)
We traded texts with the end result being he's leaving tomorrow on a 9:30 am flight back to Adelaide, so no chance for a breakfast together. He DID say that if the party tonight is a dud, he'll call me.
Oh, before I forget, the date:
We met in the hotel lobby bar and here I am with this Aussie guy who loves the NBA (although he's never been to the US much less an NBA game). He's tall with sandy blond hair. He likes to camp and bike ride. Complained a bit that he's out of shape (um, NO!)
Anyway, we belly up to the bar and he orders...a SINGAPORE SLING! a girlie drink!?!?! I suppress a smile when the bartender says they don't make those. I suggest a tequila sunrise (and secretly pat myself on the back for my bartending background and quick thinking). We have two, actually two each in the next hour or two.
Conversation was good and not nearly as strange as our first poolside encounter. I was a bit nervous, so of course, I talked too much! We talked about health care and how it's sooo different in the US. We spoke of travel and the wonderful locations that Mother Nature annihilated this year.
He invited me to come to South Australia for my next visit. Said he'd take me camping to the Flinders Ranges. Okay, my friends just dropped their collective jaws when they read that last line. YES! I HAVE BEEN CAMPING!
Contrary to many first dates that take place in a bar, there was no smooching, groping or any type of PDA.
Anyway, last call arrived (damned hotel bars and their early closing times!) and we walked toward the elevators. We arrived at my floor too quickly and when the doors opened, I thanked him for the drinks and the wine. He went for a hug and I went for a kiss (gimme a break!!! it's been a while, okay?!?) We managed both, but I think I surprised him with a kiss because he tried to hold the elevator doors open to continue our evening.
"Thanks again!" I said as he finally let the doors close.
Back to his text message today:
"Hi MJ. Hope you r having a great time in freo. I dont think i will see you b4 the dinner as i am off to pre dinner drinks. Will send you a picture! Will email you when i get home. Really would love to see you again X"
(Yes, he did end it with X.)
All together now....."Awww!"
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Just a bit of stubble
PERTH - - When he told me that his legs were shaved because he was dressing as a woman this Saturday, I knew more information was required.
His name is Chris and he's from Adelaide. We met at the rooftop pool at our hotel. He's attending a conference (or trying to get out of it, I'm not sure which) and the final day's event is some kind of costume party...at least that's what he said.
I advised him to exfoliate before he uses the fake tan to complete his "Survivor" character. Somehow I felt I should offer to do his makeup (?!?!) Yes, it was THAT kind of conversation.
For as weird as this was, it was about to step up a notch. Apparently, he's already got the bikini and chicken fillets to put in it?? (okay, I really wouldn't have thought of that, but it's Australia and they do things differently here).
We talked for the better part of an hour as he moved his chair closer to mine. (No, I didn't jump off the roof.) We seemed to be able to chat very easily. But, hey, how intimidating can a guy be that opens a conversation by explaining why his legs have less hair on them than mine?
The stats: 44 years old, two kids (older, out of school), works in the medical field but not a doctor (I don't think). Something about working with people to arrange all of their medical needs (peculiar situation in Australia, not like our health care...probably much better.)
Oh, he's divorced - - twice! Said he met and married a woman 11 years younger and, at some point, she decided she wanted to have kids and he didn't want them since he already had his. He said they'd already had that conversation, but she changed her mind. Says they're still friends.
He already had dinner plans for tonight, but wants to meet in the bar for a drink later. We'll see.
His name is Chris and he's from Adelaide. We met at the rooftop pool at our hotel. He's attending a conference (or trying to get out of it, I'm not sure which) and the final day's event is some kind of costume party...at least that's what he said.
I advised him to exfoliate before he uses the fake tan to complete his "Survivor" character. Somehow I felt I should offer to do his makeup (?!?!) Yes, it was THAT kind of conversation.
For as weird as this was, it was about to step up a notch. Apparently, he's already got the bikini and chicken fillets to put in it?? (okay, I really wouldn't have thought of that, but it's Australia and they do things differently here).
We talked for the better part of an hour as he moved his chair closer to mine. (No, I didn't jump off the roof.) We seemed to be able to chat very easily. But, hey, how intimidating can a guy be that opens a conversation by explaining why his legs have less hair on them than mine?
The stats: 44 years old, two kids (older, out of school), works in the medical field but not a doctor (I don't think). Something about working with people to arrange all of their medical needs (peculiar situation in Australia, not like our health care...probably much better.)
Oh, he's divorced - - twice! Said he met and married a woman 11 years younger and, at some point, she decided she wanted to have kids and he didn't want them since he already had his. He said they'd already had that conversation, but she changed her mind. Says they're still friends.
He already had dinner plans for tonight, but wants to meet in the bar for a drink later. We'll see.
Bloody aussie flys
PERTH - - Walking through King's Park and the Botanic Gardens, I became lunch for one of Australia's least talked-about, but most hated animals!
Flys (I'm going to spell it like the Aussies do).
It's not that there are more of them, but they are without doubt the most aggressive, persistent and annoying of all creatures. And there's a desire to be intimate that I really don't share. Let me explain as I swat away yet another beast.
Oh, by the way, you can't just wave your hand in the general direction of the fly (they just laugh). You have to make actual physical contact with the critter and even then, after you've dropped your hand, the bastard returns to the SAME SPOT as if his work there isn't done yet!
I put my sunglasses on to try to deter one beast from landing on my eyelashes. (Honestly, they love ANY orafice; eyes, ears, mouth. I'd hate the think what would happen on one of Australia's nude beaches.) Even though it's pretty hot outside, I'm afraid to lick my dry lips for fear that one of these insects will fly in and land on a molar!
I've had boyfriends who've tried to close to me like these flys, but the boyfriends gave up sooner! Attitude?!?! I've known Marines will less attitude!
Flys (I'm going to spell it like the Aussies do).
It's not that there are more of them, but they are without doubt the most aggressive, persistent and annoying of all creatures. And there's a desire to be intimate that I really don't share. Let me explain as I swat away yet another beast.
Oh, by the way, you can't just wave your hand in the general direction of the fly (they just laugh). You have to make actual physical contact with the critter and even then, after you've dropped your hand, the bastard returns to the SAME SPOT as if his work there isn't done yet!
I put my sunglasses on to try to deter one beast from landing on my eyelashes. (Honestly, they love ANY orafice; eyes, ears, mouth. I'd hate the think what would happen on one of Australia's nude beaches.) Even though it's pretty hot outside, I'm afraid to lick my dry lips for fear that one of these insects will fly in and land on a molar!
I've had boyfriends who've tried to close to me like these flys, but the boyfriends gave up sooner! Attitude?!?! I've known Marines will less attitude!
Paint job
PERTH- - Take a large paint brush, dip it in fuscia paint and do the following: paint a wide downward-pointing triangle on your chest, then stripe down the left arm beginning at a point even with your armpit, including your left hand, add to that a skinny stripe beginning four inches below your right knee and ending just above your toes; lastly, take a bit deeper-colored paint and touch just the tip of your nose.
Now you have my "tan" after my lengthy chat with Carlos in the park.
Now you have my "tan" after my lengthy chat with Carlos in the park.
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
Chat in the park
PERTH - - I've just had the best conversation I've had all day. I'm sitting in a park in Northbridge, a northern suburb of Perth that's supposed to contain all the "happening" restaurants and clubs. So far, I've only come across one street with about four restaurants and as many clubs. Oh well.
A man approached me and (still in "big-city girl" mode) I was on guard. He said Hello and I said Hi. I couldn't place his thick accent but knew it was neither Australian or American.
He spoke slowly and I couldn't decide if he was mentally slow or possibly deranged (I think I've seen some of the latter here). Turns out, he's neither of those things. He's from Chile!
Carlos has lived in Australia for about 15 years, most of them in Perth. He named about 5 other Australian cities that he's called home. (I admit to being a bit jealous of that.)
"Why Perth?" I asked.
"Because it's the best place," he said. He then went on to explain that Perth has its own mafia (who knew?). Yep, I was thinking, "this is why it's the best??"
Perth is, however, very clean. As if to prove the point, a man cleaned the area under a huge tree in the park. Carlos and I watched him rake up every dead branch and dropped leaf. He worked for over an hour.
We sat quietly for a bit, admiring a sky that was so blue and bright it almost hurt our eyes. Carlos offered me a cigarette, but I declined. He said he loved my accent.
We spoke of life's general topics: money and the happiness that doesn't usually come with it; families and how to live with them; politics and how the "average Joe" doesn't usually agree with how his government behaves.
We agreed that its best to not judge a country by its government's actions, but rather by its people...the ones you meet in parks on sunny days.
A man approached me and (still in "big-city girl" mode) I was on guard. He said Hello and I said Hi. I couldn't place his thick accent but knew it was neither Australian or American.
He spoke slowly and I couldn't decide if he was mentally slow or possibly deranged (I think I've seen some of the latter here). Turns out, he's neither of those things. He's from Chile!
Carlos has lived in Australia for about 15 years, most of them in Perth. He named about 5 other Australian cities that he's called home. (I admit to being a bit jealous of that.)
"Why Perth?" I asked.
"Because it's the best place," he said. He then went on to explain that Perth has its own mafia (who knew?). Yep, I was thinking, "this is why it's the best??"
Perth is, however, very clean. As if to prove the point, a man cleaned the area under a huge tree in the park. Carlos and I watched him rake up every dead branch and dropped leaf. He worked for over an hour.
We sat quietly for a bit, admiring a sky that was so blue and bright it almost hurt our eyes. Carlos offered me a cigarette, but I declined. He said he loved my accent.
We spoke of life's general topics: money and the happiness that doesn't usually come with it; families and how to live with them; politics and how the "average Joe" doesn't usually agree with how his government behaves.
We agreed that its best to not judge a country by its government's actions, but rather by its people...the ones you meet in parks on sunny days.
Monday, October 31, 2005
Sydney, mid 70s, sunny, breezy
It's noonish on Monday, Oct. 31 and I'm in Sydney, my favorite city on the planet. I've been here for about four hours.
And I've just been offered a job.
Actually, one of the concierges at my hotel realized how much I already know about Sydney and asked if I'd like have a job for a few days while I'm here. I told him I'm off to Perth tomorrow, but maybe I'll take him up on it when I'm back here in two weeks.
I'm sitting in a circular courtyard alongside Campbell's Cove (between the Sydney Harbour Bridge and the international cruise ship dock). Watching the tourists take turns posing for photos with the bridge or the Sydney Opera House in the background.
Gorgeous day. Gorgeous city.
Last week, on a bus ride to work, I purposefully sat in the sliver of sunshine that lit up a seat near me. I was hoping to warm myself on one of the first chilly days of autumn.
No luck. Light, but no heat. Like sitting in a room with a 60-watt lightbulb.
Here, in Sydney, I have light, heat and a pleasant breeze off the harbor to keep things from getting too hot.
They say that if you like Sydney, then you'll like Perth.
Well, Perth has some big shoes to fill.
And I've just been offered a job.
Actually, one of the concierges at my hotel realized how much I already know about Sydney and asked if I'd like have a job for a few days while I'm here. I told him I'm off to Perth tomorrow, but maybe I'll take him up on it when I'm back here in two weeks.
I'm sitting in a circular courtyard alongside Campbell's Cove (between the Sydney Harbour Bridge and the international cruise ship dock). Watching the tourists take turns posing for photos with the bridge or the Sydney Opera House in the background.
Gorgeous day. Gorgeous city.
Last week, on a bus ride to work, I purposefully sat in the sliver of sunshine that lit up a seat near me. I was hoping to warm myself on one of the first chilly days of autumn.
No luck. Light, but no heat. Like sitting in a room with a 60-watt lightbulb.
Here, in Sydney, I have light, heat and a pleasant breeze off the harbor to keep things from getting too hot.
They say that if you like Sydney, then you'll like Perth.
Well, Perth has some big shoes to fill.
Sunday, October 30, 2005
Not your usual woman
(aboard Qantas flight 455 to Sydney)
Something is wrong with me. Something is ve-ry, ve-ry wrong with me. Here I am, on a flight to Australia, a grown woman on the verge of hitting the big 4-0. I am watching an inflight movie, "Fever Pitch," a movie about a rampant Red Sox fan and how his fandom affects his relationships.
Here I am, tearing up. I miss my Cubs and Wrigley Field. I understand rampant fandom and what it's like to have a "summer family."
I heard they re-made the end of the movie because the Red Sox won the World Series that year (2003). The movie credits rolled at the end with scenes of a championship parade not unlike the one I just witnessed in Chicago for the White Sox.
Yes, in this chest still beats the heart of the diehard Cub fan. No, I didn't become a White Sox fan to join the parade of bandwagon groupies.
At some point in the movie, the star offered this rationalization for his fandom, "It's good for your soul to invest in something you can't control."
Now there's an idea I can really get behind.
Go Cubs!
Something is wrong with me. Something is ve-ry, ve-ry wrong with me. Here I am, on a flight to Australia, a grown woman on the verge of hitting the big 4-0. I am watching an inflight movie, "Fever Pitch," a movie about a rampant Red Sox fan and how his fandom affects his relationships.
Here I am, tearing up. I miss my Cubs and Wrigley Field. I understand rampant fandom and what it's like to have a "summer family."
I heard they re-made the end of the movie because the Red Sox won the World Series that year (2003). The movie credits rolled at the end with scenes of a championship parade not unlike the one I just witnessed in Chicago for the White Sox.
Yes, in this chest still beats the heart of the diehard Cub fan. No, I didn't become a White Sox fan to join the parade of bandwagon groupies.
At some point in the movie, the star offered this rationalization for his fandom, "It's good for your soul to invest in something you can't control."
Now there's an idea I can really get behind.
Go Cubs!
Saturday, October 29, 2005
I love airports
I love airports. The anticipation of going someplace new and exciting. Or sometimes on the other side, the anticipation of seeing a friend or loved one from too long ago.
Sitting in the pre-boarding area at LAX, it's fun to guess the purpose behind each traveler's trips. There are the usual visits to grandma and grandpa, but the mid-40s guy with the 20-something Asian chick? What's their story? How about the Phillipino family that just popped the cork on a bottle of champagne and is using it to wash down crackers and sub sandwiches! WTF?!?!
A big part of the airport experience is the drama that unfolds at baggage claim. While there are several anonymous drivers holding up signs with names for business pick-ups, all I see are the single and (sometimes) married men who are eagerly awaiting the arrival of their lovers. Some of these men bear flowers and balloons. Someday I'd like to have someone anxiously waiting to pick me up at the airport with flowers and a kiss.
Someday.
Sitting in the pre-boarding area at LAX, it's fun to guess the purpose behind each traveler's trips. There are the usual visits to grandma and grandpa, but the mid-40s guy with the 20-something Asian chick? What's their story? How about the Phillipino family that just popped the cork on a bottle of champagne and is using it to wash down crackers and sub sandwiches! WTF?!?!
A big part of the airport experience is the drama that unfolds at baggage claim. While there are several anonymous drivers holding up signs with names for business pick-ups, all I see are the single and (sometimes) married men who are eagerly awaiting the arrival of their lovers. Some of these men bear flowers and balloons. Someday I'd like to have someone anxiously waiting to pick me up at the airport with flowers and a kiss.
Someday.
Friday, October 28, 2005
Congratulations World Series champs!
It's the day before I leave on vacation. Twenty-four hours before I jump on a plane and remove myself from this humdrum existence and insert myself into the fun, sun and party that is Australia.
But I'm not quite excited yet. Not in "vacation mode." It took a while, but today I finally figured out why I've been distracted.
Usually, my thoughts of baseball are long gone by late October thanks to my Cubs' habit of fading fast. But not this year. Chicago hasn't let go of its summertime distraction...long after the leaves have changed and t-shirts have been replaced by sweatshirts.
The Chicago White Sox have won the 2005 World Series! For the first time in 88 years, Chicago has a baseball champion and today was the official celebration in the Loop.
No, I haven't changed allegiances. I am still a true, blue Cub fan.
But I am also a baseball fan and can completely respect and appreciate what the White Sox have accomplished. The Sox played ball with passion (if not always intellect) and with the blue-collar, never-give-up attitude that the South Side of Chicago is known for.
During the baseball season, I've had an ongoing discussion/argument of baseball fandom with one of our management team, a fella who claims to be a diehard Sox fan. It's usually a bit of bickering of "my team is better" and "I can't believe what your team did last night." That type of thing. This guy grew up in the south suburbs of Chicago and periodically wears a gray and black tie with the Sox logo on it.
Did he wear the tie and/or a Sox hat the day after his team captured the World Series title?
No.
Did he wear a Sox jersey, hat or even a black shirt (for cryin' out loud!) today for the celebration?
No.
Did he join the thousands of Chicagoans in attending the wild, ticker-tape parade that rolled through downtown within 2 blocks of our office?
No.
The baseball fan that I am, I attended the rally that was held at the end of the parade route and then shuffled through ankle-deep ticker-tape to get back to work. I even grabbed a handful of shredded paper to keep as a souvenir along with World Series stories in the local newspapers. I know history when I see it.
I asked him why he didn't go to the celebration. Why he didn't wear a Sox jersey to work (on a casual Friday like today). He claimed that it was all band wagon stuff and that he's a true fan.
"But I've really held back. I've backed off. I really could've gone off on you. There's so much I could've said," he said. And then I realized it.
For him, being a true White Sox fan would have been to rip the Cubs for not winning anything (again!) and rip me for being a fan of a team that hasn't won a World Series since1908. For him, showing his Sox loyalty would have meant tearing down me and my team.
Wow! How sad. I wonder how many Sox fans feel that way. Or how many Cub fans feel that way about the Sox for that matter?
I am a Cub fan and I'm proud of my loyalty. But I've never said a word against the White Sox team or any other team that plays the game the way it SHOULD be played. I'm happy for the White Sox and proud that they could bring this kind of excitement to Chicago.
I don't think a fan is any less loyal to his or her team if they respect their opponent. On the contrary, isn't that a big part of the game? Respect for yourself, your team and your opponent. Wasn't that what they taught young boys in Little League?
Guys! Help me out here. Am I right or am I being naive to think that a fan can be a true baseball fan without belittling the other team?
Belittling the fans of the other team? Okay, that's another story.
But I'm not quite excited yet. Not in "vacation mode." It took a while, but today I finally figured out why I've been distracted.
Usually, my thoughts of baseball are long gone by late October thanks to my Cubs' habit of fading fast. But not this year. Chicago hasn't let go of its summertime distraction...long after the leaves have changed and t-shirts have been replaced by sweatshirts.
The Chicago White Sox have won the 2005 World Series! For the first time in 88 years, Chicago has a baseball champion and today was the official celebration in the Loop.
No, I haven't changed allegiances. I am still a true, blue Cub fan.
But I am also a baseball fan and can completely respect and appreciate what the White Sox have accomplished. The Sox played ball with passion (if not always intellect) and with the blue-collar, never-give-up attitude that the South Side of Chicago is known for.
During the baseball season, I've had an ongoing discussion/argument of baseball fandom with one of our management team, a fella who claims to be a diehard Sox fan. It's usually a bit of bickering of "my team is better" and "I can't believe what your team did last night." That type of thing. This guy grew up in the south suburbs of Chicago and periodically wears a gray and black tie with the Sox logo on it.
Did he wear the tie and/or a Sox hat the day after his team captured the World Series title?
No.
Did he wear a Sox jersey, hat or even a black shirt (for cryin' out loud!) today for the celebration?
No.
Did he join the thousands of Chicagoans in attending the wild, ticker-tape parade that rolled through downtown within 2 blocks of our office?
No.
The baseball fan that I am, I attended the rally that was held at the end of the parade route and then shuffled through ankle-deep ticker-tape to get back to work. I even grabbed a handful of shredded paper to keep as a souvenir along with World Series stories in the local newspapers. I know history when I see it.
I asked him why he didn't go to the celebration. Why he didn't wear a Sox jersey to work (on a casual Friday like today). He claimed that it was all band wagon stuff and that he's a true fan.
"But I've really held back. I've backed off. I really could've gone off on you. There's so much I could've said," he said. And then I realized it.
For him, being a true White Sox fan would have been to rip the Cubs for not winning anything (again!) and rip me for being a fan of a team that hasn't won a World Series since1908. For him, showing his Sox loyalty would have meant tearing down me and my team.
Wow! How sad. I wonder how many Sox fans feel that way. Or how many Cub fans feel that way about the Sox for that matter?
I am a Cub fan and I'm proud of my loyalty. But I've never said a word against the White Sox team or any other team that plays the game the way it SHOULD be played. I'm happy for the White Sox and proud that they could bring this kind of excitement to Chicago.
I don't think a fan is any less loyal to his or her team if they respect their opponent. On the contrary, isn't that a big part of the game? Respect for yourself, your team and your opponent. Wasn't that what they taught young boys in Little League?
Guys! Help me out here. Am I right or am I being naive to think that a fan can be a true baseball fan without belittling the other team?
Belittling the fans of the other team? Okay, that's another story.
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Is it time to leave yet?
This time Saturday, I'll be winging my way to the West Coast en route to Australia. Yep, I'm going Down Under (I know that will excite some of you, but don't get too obscene!)
But this week has been truly bizarre. Kind of a "screw with The Writer before she leaves" type thing. Where do I begin?
My mom wanted to gather some of my siblings together to have a birthday dinner for me. Funny, in my 39 years on the planet, we haven't made that much effort. Needless to say, I declined.
I got a booty call (okay, I didn't ACT on it, but the call was received.)
Let me back up a bit...I attended a FABULOUS cocktail party at a ritzy suburban home last year at Christmastime. Since I didn't know anyone (not really) and the rich bitches at the party were being nasty to me, I stood by the bar and chatted up the pretty cute bartender.
By 2am, I had decided that I needed to go home. After all, I had to work in 6 hours! The neighborhood included a lot of very small curvy streets with very few streetlights so I wasn't sure how to get home. Bartender guy left around the same time as me and waited for me in the street. He offered to let me follow him to the on-ramp for the highway I needed to get home.
NOTHING HAPPENED!!!! (I could just tell that you guys were jumping ahead on this one!)
I gave him my business card and he called me a few times, but we never went out. He was too young, immature and bragged about all the "older women" he had slept with. Yuck!
Anyway, fast forward 10 months and he's calling me at 10pm on a school night. Apparently, he found my business card and decided to see "what I was up to." (Isn't that code?)
We talked for a bit and I discovered that he's moved to the city (renting a room! do real people actually do that? I thought only in old movies) and he's also an actor! Geez! Help me! Are there any adult men with steady jobs out there???
Needless to say, nothing will happen there. I didn't even keep his phone number.
Oh, one more thing. The Romanian martial arts teacher called me. I asked him if he was married and he said no, but he has a "friend." I asked if he has kids (since he loves teaching them so much). He hesitated but finally admitted that he has a baby.
He didn't think there was anything wrong with inviting me out for coffee or dinner. This sounded familiar. My European colleagues often got together for dinner or movies, even those of them that were married or "involved." The difference, however, is that the spouse/partner always knew us and often came along.
Romanian guy said he didn't want to hurt me (?) and doesn't think there's anything wrong with the invitation. (At the risk of sounding like a cultural enlightenment guru), I mentioned that in the future, it would be better if he owned up to having a girlfriend and baby before he invites single women to go out with him.
We'll see if I hear from him again...
Two guys calling me in one week. Boy! It's been too long since THAT happened. Wonder if Aussie guys are any better?
Oh, and YES, I do plan to post occasionally in Australia so stay tuned.
But this week has been truly bizarre. Kind of a "screw with The Writer before she leaves" type thing. Where do I begin?
My mom wanted to gather some of my siblings together to have a birthday dinner for me. Funny, in my 39 years on the planet, we haven't made that much effort. Needless to say, I declined.
I got a booty call (okay, I didn't ACT on it, but the call was received.)
Let me back up a bit...I attended a FABULOUS cocktail party at a ritzy suburban home last year at Christmastime. Since I didn't know anyone (not really) and the rich bitches at the party were being nasty to me, I stood by the bar and chatted up the pretty cute bartender.
By 2am, I had decided that I needed to go home. After all, I had to work in 6 hours! The neighborhood included a lot of very small curvy streets with very few streetlights so I wasn't sure how to get home. Bartender guy left around the same time as me and waited for me in the street. He offered to let me follow him to the on-ramp for the highway I needed to get home.
NOTHING HAPPENED!!!! (I could just tell that you guys were jumping ahead on this one!)
I gave him my business card and he called me a few times, but we never went out. He was too young, immature and bragged about all the "older women" he had slept with. Yuck!
Anyway, fast forward 10 months and he's calling me at 10pm on a school night. Apparently, he found my business card and decided to see "what I was up to." (Isn't that code?)
We talked for a bit and I discovered that he's moved to the city (renting a room! do real people actually do that? I thought only in old movies) and he's also an actor! Geez! Help me! Are there any adult men with steady jobs out there???
Needless to say, nothing will happen there. I didn't even keep his phone number.
Oh, one more thing. The Romanian martial arts teacher called me. I asked him if he was married and he said no, but he has a "friend." I asked if he has kids (since he loves teaching them so much). He hesitated but finally admitted that he has a baby.
He didn't think there was anything wrong with inviting me out for coffee or dinner. This sounded familiar. My European colleagues often got together for dinner or movies, even those of them that were married or "involved." The difference, however, is that the spouse/partner always knew us and often came along.
Romanian guy said he didn't want to hurt me (?) and doesn't think there's anything wrong with the invitation. (At the risk of sounding like a cultural enlightenment guru), I mentioned that in the future, it would be better if he owned up to having a girlfriend and baby before he invites single women to go out with him.
We'll see if I hear from him again...
Two guys calling me in one week. Boy! It's been too long since THAT happened. Wonder if Aussie guys are any better?
Oh, and YES, I do plan to post occasionally in Australia so stay tuned.
Sunday, October 23, 2005
It's a cultural thing
Remember the Romanian martial arts teacher and former exotic dancer??? Well, there's good news and bad news on that topic. The good news is that he called me on Saturday afternoon as I sat at Starbucks, sipping a chai tea and absorbing my baseball encyclopedia.
The conversation started awkwardly with him apologizing for bothering me, for taking up so much of my time on a weekend. (He wasn't bothering me.)
He also said he hoped it was okay that he called me. Um....why did he think I gave him my number if it wouldn't be okay for him to call me??? And how were we going to make the dinner plans (as he suggested) if he didn't actually call me?!?
This guy's got FLOOR MAT written all over him. Not a good sign. When will men realize that a lack of self-confidence is such a deal-breaker?
But the piece de resistance came today when I spoke to the Mexican ladies who introduced us at their party. They were busy at the party, but did notice that we seemed to be having a nice conversation. (I never told them about the date potential.)
In our conversation this morning, one of the ladies mentioned that martial arts teacher has a son who's about 6 months old. So I casually asked if his wife is Romanian too. No, apparently, she's Bulgarian or Hungarian or something like that.
Oh, did I mention that he never SAID ANYTHING ABOUT BEING MARRIED OR HAVING A CHILD!!!?!?!?
It sure would be easier if they just put "TAKEN" in a huge tattoo on their forehead!!
The conversation started awkwardly with him apologizing for bothering me, for taking up so much of my time on a weekend. (He wasn't bothering me.)
He also said he hoped it was okay that he called me. Um....why did he think I gave him my number if it wouldn't be okay for him to call me??? And how were we going to make the dinner plans (as he suggested) if he didn't actually call me?!?
This guy's got FLOOR MAT written all over him. Not a good sign. When will men realize that a lack of self-confidence is such a deal-breaker?
But the piece de resistance came today when I spoke to the Mexican ladies who introduced us at their party. They were busy at the party, but did notice that we seemed to be having a nice conversation. (I never told them about the date potential.)
In our conversation this morning, one of the ladies mentioned that martial arts teacher has a son who's about 6 months old. So I casually asked if his wife is Romanian too. No, apparently, she's Bulgarian or Hungarian or something like that.
Oh, did I mention that he never SAID ANYTHING ABOUT BEING MARRIED OR HAVING A CHILD!!!?!?!?
It sure would be easier if they just put "TAKEN" in a huge tattoo on their forehead!!
Friday, October 21, 2005
A dentist's dream
Yes, I was. And I can firmly, and without reservation, place the blame on at least one suburban institution: Packy's. It was-- and still is, I think -- an areawide distributor of pre-pubescent deviance.
It's a candy store. (You sickos! What did you THINK I was talking about?!?!)
A real wall-to-wall shop full of penny, three-cent, five-cent and (for the big spenders) 15-cent candies.
I thought of it because a colleague of mine brought in a family-sized bag of what SHOULD be Halloween candy. Yeah, right. Like it's going to last that long!
I'm chewing on Sweet Tarts right now, having already eaten my strawberry Laffy Taffy. I took a small selection which includes Bottle Caps and Runts (oooh! there are not one or two, but THREE bananas in the Runts!!)
My parents taught me to share, so I brought another small selection to other colleagues and the talk began of Charleston Chews, Marathon bars and Slo-Pokes.
Okay, the conversation actually started with Lik M' Ade. Remember the fruity-flavored powder that you ate from the pouch by licking the weird-tasting, plastic-looking and dipping it into the powder?
Do you remember the long strips of strawberry (or were they cherry) licorice that you'd tie in knots before you eat it? What was that called? How about the candy bracelets and necklaces?
How I have ANY teeth left in my head is one of my family's biggest mysteries.
I've heard there's an online candy store where these cheap thrills still exist. Does anyone know the website??
It's a candy store. (You sickos! What did you THINK I was talking about?!?!)
A real wall-to-wall shop full of penny, three-cent, five-cent and (for the big spenders) 15-cent candies.
I thought of it because a colleague of mine brought in a family-sized bag of what SHOULD be Halloween candy. Yeah, right. Like it's going to last that long!
I'm chewing on Sweet Tarts right now, having already eaten my strawberry Laffy Taffy. I took a small selection which includes Bottle Caps and Runts (oooh! there are not one or two, but THREE bananas in the Runts!!)
My parents taught me to share, so I brought another small selection to other colleagues and the talk began of Charleston Chews, Marathon bars and Slo-Pokes.
Okay, the conversation actually started with Lik M' Ade. Remember the fruity-flavored powder that you ate from the pouch by licking the weird-tasting, plastic-looking and dipping it into the powder?
Do you remember the long strips of strawberry (or were they cherry) licorice that you'd tie in knots before you eat it? What was that called? How about the candy bracelets and necklaces?
How I have ANY teeth left in my head is one of my family's biggest mysteries.
I've heard there's an online candy store where these cheap thrills still exist. Does anyone know the website??
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
Things to do....
before I go:
- See all of the continents at least once
- Speak at least one other language fluently
- Write a novel and have it published
- Learn to express myself musically (singing or playing an instrument)
- Fall in love with someone WHO LOVES ME
- Learn how to tune up a car and do an oil change
- Find a satisfying, challenging and lucrative career
- Live, at least for a while, in another country
- Learn to golf reasonably well
- Fly first-class
- Live in a house w/a garden and a huge wrap-around porch
- Own shoes that were hand-made for me
- Do something worthy of a newspaper headline (an obit doesn't count)
- Be there when the Cubs win the World Series (maybe I'd settle for a pennant)
- Spend a weekend at a beach house (not in the Midwest, thank you)
- See my first love again
- Learn to swim (it's the underwater part that gets me)
- Have a hairstyle that both stylish and classic (and that I can recreate on a regular basis)
- Get one of my ideas patented or copyrighted or at least, sold
- Witness the miracle of birth
Bratty little Sox fans
My colleagues, several of whom couldn't name more than one White Sox player and think Ozzie Guillen is still the shortstop, are trying to instigate a dispute with me, a diehard Cub fan. The White Sox have won the American League pennant and are awaiting their rivals for the World Series, which begins this weekend. The Cubs are once again relegated to "waiting until next year" - - a phrase we coined, I think.
Trouble is....I don't care.
I leave for Australia in less than two weeks and for me, baseball season has been over for a few weeks now. I'm busy counting the days till Sydney and then Spring Training.
It reminds me of a situation a few years back with my ex-husband. It was a few weeks after we filed for divorce (amicably, I might add). We were riding an elevator to a courtroom where we could finalize things.
"I'm dating this girl and she told me that her ex-husband calls her Lucy, short for Lucifer," said the ex. (I suppressed the urge to laugh at the fact that my ex would be dating someone that reminds another person of the devil.)
"I have a nickname for you, too." He added, waiting anxiously for me to ask what possible monniker he could have for me when in the company of his (alcoholic, jobless, living-with-their-parents) friends.
A minute goes by...No answer.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him squirm as he desperately wanted to impart this bit of information.
Just then, the elevator doors open and we arrive at the courtroom and the conversation-- the verbal poking-- is over.
Sox fans don't bug me, neither do ex-husbands.
Trouble is....I don't care.
I leave for Australia in less than two weeks and for me, baseball season has been over for a few weeks now. I'm busy counting the days till Sydney and then Spring Training.
It reminds me of a situation a few years back with my ex-husband. It was a few weeks after we filed for divorce (amicably, I might add). We were riding an elevator to a courtroom where we could finalize things.
"I'm dating this girl and she told me that her ex-husband calls her Lucy, short for Lucifer," said the ex. (I suppressed the urge to laugh at the fact that my ex would be dating someone that reminds another person of the devil.)
"I have a nickname for you, too." He added, waiting anxiously for me to ask what possible monniker he could have for me when in the company of his (alcoholic, jobless, living-with-their-parents) friends.
A minute goes by...No answer.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him squirm as he desperately wanted to impart this bit of information.
Just then, the elevator doors open and we arrive at the courtroom and the conversation-- the verbal poking-- is over.
Sox fans don't bug me, neither do ex-husbands.
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