We have been weaving all week, and will weave all day today, tomorrow, this weekend, and probably for the next three weeks. We have to make 40 little lamps, and then Darcy has a few big ones to make, in the vein of the one you see me next to in the previous post. In a day, the two of us can make about 2 lamps. Starting soon, Darcy's friend Olivia will start to work with us too, and that will speed up the process.

It's fun for the most part, and the lamps are named after me, Aguilera. Isn't that just the most amazing thing? I feel honored.

The work is tiresome though. It dries out your fingers and makes your back sore. It also forces you to watch HORRIBLE daytime television sometimes, when you have listened to music all day and need a change.

The other night we ended early to go play soccer. Tuesday nights D plays with a group of people in the park. It is casual and just for fun, so he said I should come. I needed reassurance, because if everyone else can play, it isn't fun to play with someone who can't. Be he said of course it's fine, no one minds.

He was right, but I was indeed the one who can't play. I sucked, in fact. I was goalie for awhile, and allowed 4 goals to get in, and sometimes even kicked the ball to the other team when I meant to kick it to ours. Eventually I switched to fullback, where I fared much better, and was even able to stop some of the better players from making a goal, and was also able to stop some of their fancy footwork. But twice, forgetting I was not the goalie, I caught the ball. I know I know! Stupid. It was a basketball reflex. But indeed, no one minded. It was all just for fun. The group of people all work at a company here called Intech. Darcy was riding by them on his bike one day and decided to ask if he could play, and has been playing with them all summer (winter). Intech is a global company, and they do billing for telecommunication companies. Most of the people playing were from other countries: India, Korea, Ireland, Scotland, and Germany. A lot of them have traveled around the world, with their IT skills. Many of them have just been working at the different Intech offices. If you're going to work for a company that does billing for phone companies, you should at least get some traveling out of it. After the game they all go to a pub - "The Victory" and drink enough beer to counter all the benefits of running around for 2 hours. There is a big screen at the pub, and projected on it are sports. You know, the usual - Union Rugby, and Cricket. Everyone was pretty nice and I was given some encouragement regarding Immigration, since a few of them had decided to live in Brisbane and had to get their residency.

The car isn't working, so we have to get around by bike. That's fine by me, except when I had to ride to where Darcy is keeping his supplies and lug 6 reels of cane home in the hot sun. Brisbane is very hilly. Not as hilly as say, San Francisco, but in that direction. I always pride my self on taking the hills, but with two bags on my back I said screw it, and walked.

We are out of milk and bread, and we have to return DVD's to Planet of the Tapes. It is an overcast day so far so I may go do those things now.

Man, a woman's work is never done. I hope he names another lamp after me.

I wondered what the name of the company was in the movie Office Space. I thought it was Intech, but I wasn't sure.

BTW, I have put a ring of baking soda around the area of the door where the ants come in. This morning, there was no parade to our rubbish, and so far have only encountered one ant while typing this entry. A sense of calm has come over me, and suddenly I feel the urge to pour baking soda over everything. And everyone. Why not?

What Part of "Windex" Don't You Understand?

Much like the Gypsy Moths of the 1980's when they came through and devastated my state for 2 years, the ants here have me near a breaking point. As a kid, riding my bike, I used to duck around the hanging caterpillars, that were spinning their goo after a full day of ruining the forest life. After 3 months of hearing them drop on my roof, and walking outside to a land of stripped branches in the heat of summer, I went a bit mad, and starting killing all the caterpillars that crossed my path, and scraping off their little egg patches on tree trunks. I didn't care if they died.

We have had 2 more big fat roaches in the flat. I almost stepped on one, but it didn't budge. It seemed quite dazed, as if something had happened to it and it crawled up to our place to die. And die it did, at the bottom of my flip flop, courtesy of Darcy. This one was red and shiny, and resembled a crayfish, minus the tail. I did not wish to eat it, and wouldn't have anyway, as it was clearly diseased. The other one was similar to the one with the menacing sheen, and ran behind the washing machine as soon as it saw me. Run, little freak, time is precious...

The ants are everywhere, and crawl over everything, including us as we sleep. As a result, I am always feeling like something is running around on my surface, and I am always checking my ears and my nose. As I type, ants are crawling in and out of my keypad.

OK fine; crawl around fruitlessly if you must - there is nothing here to feed your queen with. And if she's so smart, why didn't she teach you that? If it's not organic matter, it does you no good, ants.

I am tireless when it come to keeping the kitchen clean, and Darcy is not as tireless as I, which results in me actually tiring sometimes. Recently I have been waking up to parades of ants marching back and forth from the rubbish bin, though not actually carrying anything. It pisses me off. I have taken to spraying the rubbish, and the bin, and the counter tops, liberally with Windex. It stops them dead in their tracks. I wipe away the ants, and whatever else is attracting them, and things are cool for the rest of the day. But then dinner time comes along, and they smell whatever's cooking, and we toss scraps and whatnot into the bin, and even though at the end of the night I lightly coat the stuff with Windex, the parade returns in the morning.

I wrote in an earlier entry that I had a hard time killing insects. I still do. But not ants. Why won't they go outside, into the wild, where they belong?

There are fruit trees just outside our window, and at night bats swoop in and fight amongst themselves over the fruit. I see in their behavior a reflection of human behavior and it freaks me out. Ants, bats, roaches - Darcy says "just make friends with them". I have become a friend to them much the way the mean popular girls in school were friends with me. Not friends at all. Just coexisting in this educational institution we call life.

I have been weaving a lot of baskets.

Everyone Knows it's Windy

If anyone is wondering, the cyclone did not reach down to where we are living, in Brisbane. It was north of us, quite some distance, though these past few days have been very cool, windy, and cloudy with scattered showers. For us it is pretty nice, though for people up north it is pretty sad. Many people lost everything they had. Many farmers have lost crops too. No one died from it, though. They are having problems I could not have imagined because of the area. For example, the rivers flooded over and made temporary canals, and now crocodiles are swimming around neighborhoods, and hanging out in the towns. I think that would be pretty scary. I hope the relief effort for these people goes better than the one for Hurricane Katrina is going so far.

We get a lot of US television down here. A lot. There are 5 channels, and about 80% of the content is American. It's ridiculous! They have 2 CSI shows, and Numbers, and Desperate Housewives, and a bunch of others. I wish I liked those shows, so I may feel like - all right! Something familiar! But I think they are stupid. The good things are the Simpsons and The Jim Leherer Newshour. Through The Newshour I can keep up with what's going on back home. The Simpsons are just funny, and seem to translate well anywhere I have traveled. The world news is good here, with more of a focus on Asia, since that is the area Australia is closest to. The USA is the dominating topic, however, and these days they seem to give the impression, for the first time I've noticed, that the USA is not so happy with their current President. It is just a relief to finally see that. I don't get abused here for my nationality, but occasionally people do question me, as if I would ever vote for a man like that. But, how would they know that about me, when all they see are my rolex watches and breast implants as I invite them into my sumptuous drawing room, from which there is a view of my personal oil well, for champagne and hot dogs on disposable chinaware? Actually, I have only been questioned by couple of people here, and they didn't really accuse me of anything. It's all cool. I just want to give the impression that I am angry and sensitive, because it makes people laugh. I've heard.

Anyway, I've been busy these past couple of days. I got a bicycle (pushie) and it's a sweet ride. It is made of recycled parts from a shop that makes bikes from recycled parts, called Bicycle Revolution. Darcy dropped me off there and I rode home along the river, past The Lagoon and some Japanese tourists who I had to warn to step aside with my bell. They were hogging the path, taking pictures of I don't know what. They weren't taking pictures of The Lagoon, which they should. That thing is neat.

Darcy has a lot of work right now, so I am helping him out. I am doing some photo retouching for his website, and some weaving and grunt work at his studio. Yesterday I cooked all three meals: pancakes for breakfast, gaucamole sandwiches for lunch and hamburgers for dinner. I asked him if he wanted hamburgers for dinner, and it made him laugh. "Hamburgers?" To which I replied "would you prefer a knuckle sandwich?" to which he replied "no no baby, don't be like that, you know I'm good for it."


No, he just thought hamburgers were a funny thing to eat for dinner. But then I made some and he changed his mind. I am doing well with the cooking, which is a relief.

We buy our "mince" from a butcher shop called "Meat Your Lifestyle".

Queensland don't mean the land of the people who are...well...funny-like.

We live in the state of Queensland, which really gets my husband's goat. I understand where he's coming from, as I had a similar feeling when I moved to Los Angeles from New York. Something tells you to go, but you spend the next 2-50 years comparing it to where you came from, and you can't remember a bad thing about where you used to live. When I remember New York, I just remember the things that made it fabulous, and forget the things that made me move. D is doing very much the same thing, and everything that goes wrong on any given day is the fault of bloody Queenslanders.

According to Darcy, and a few other people from New South Wales, people from Queensland are rednecks, Brisbane is a big country town masked as a city, no one trusts you here, everything is expensive, no one is trustworthy, bad drivers - it goes on and on. In New Hampshire, where I grew up, people felt many similar things about people from Massachusetts. In fact, people from my town felt that way about the towns nearby. It doesn't matter where you are. We all exist in illusions about the place we live.

To be fair, I have noticed a certain tackiness in certain parts of Queensland in comparison to places in New South Wales. To also be fair, I have visited a few small towns in New South Wales, albeit briefly, and they can be as small and rednecked as you get, for better and worse.

It's really just the weather that gets to D, I think. It's sticky icky hot here in summer and only gets to warm in the winter. It never really cools off. I have seen sweaters for sale in shops here and can't imagine who is buying them, except maybe, well, um...-I don't know! Who the hell is buying sweaters here?

There is stuff happening here. There are museums and galleries and sporting events and theatre and nightclubs and day spas and organic health food stores and homeware shops and pet clothing and the rest. There just isn't much in stock of whatever it is you may want. If you want a gadget, or something for your computer, or a computer, there is a good chance you need to order it and wait, even though it was advertised as being available. Darcy has trouble getting supplies for his work, but he had that problem in NSW. And the people he hires to do work will say it will be done and delivered to him at a certain time on a certain day, and it won't be, and he will call, and they will have forgotten, or have had a problem and didn't tell him. He has called delivery companies to pick up and ship something, and they sometimes just plum forget. This problem existed in NSW as much as here. When I point that out though, he immediately tells me I'm wrong. But I lived with him in NSW. I remember these problems, because I remember thinking, "this wouldn't happen in New York City, where life is perfect!"

Really, I think it's just the weather. Which I am also ready to not have anymore.

Tonight, for dinner, my husband made what's in the photo above: pasta with canned tuna, mushrooms, dill, parmesan cheese, pine nuts, basil and snow peas. I would have never thought to combine all these things, but they tasted good!

The gecko we allowed just to be. I am not culturally conditioned to eat geckos, but they don't pick a fight, like insects, so I don't wish I felt comfortable eating them. I feel comfortable just letting them run around the ceiling, being cute.

Tonight, we watched the Commonwealth Games, which is like the Olympics, but for countries of or formerly of The Commonwealth: Scotland, Wales, Ireland, England, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Papua New Guinea, Bahamas, Kenya, Tanzania, Jamaica, South Africa, Cyprus, Fiji, Pakistan, India, Malaysia, Singapore - and some others. Those Brits had some sticky fingers in world history, I tell you what.

Anyway, they were fun to watch. Australia is a country of jocks.

We went to Byron Bay for a couple of days. Darcy had some work to do down there, and I got to see a few of his friends again. Byron Bay has beautiful beaches, and lots of nature walks, and Darcy has a great group of friends there. I liked being there last year, and it was nice to be there for a couple of days this time, but to be honest, I find it a little boring. Many people often imagine a leisurely life, but after a while of not doing anything, it's time to do something. Byron Bay often reminds me of a college town minus the college. Though it does have a school for audio engineering. The local community is small and nice and everyone has a good time, but it is a little insular. It can be hard to speak of things other than Byron Bay. But then I wonder if we are all like that, and since I am from big cities I just had more things to reference in the place I live. Could be, could be...

I grew up in a small town, and I liked the nature, and swimming in the lakes, and hiking and the change of seasons. But I hated the financial hardship and the homogeny of the people. Many families in town were related to each other, and those that weren't all dated each other at some point. What else are you going to do? Slim pickin's genetically. I was not a part of all of that, as we moved there from the city. And though I was not a "hot chick", and never got "lucky" with some pimply-faced, lanky guy who drove a pickup with a gun rack in the back, I did make good friends. One of my best friends growing up there had lived there her whole life, as had her parents, and her cousin who we hung out with who was secretly in love with her. She had another cousin who was about 7 years older who was in a band called the Shady Hill Band, and they did covers and lived on Shady Hill Road. She had other relatives around town, but I couldn't keep track. Anyway, she told me when we were 13 that she wanted to live there until she died. I felt a distance between us in that moment that only grew as time went on. I couldn't wait to get to the city, to be with people who wore black and listened to Depeche Mode and spent their days hanging out in the record store, deciding between purchasing the new Smiths record or catching up on all the New Order they didn't have.

Right before I moved to Los Angeles I spoke briefly with this old schoolmate of mine, as she was trying to help organize a 15 year high school reunion. After high school, she had gone to the state university, married a guy from nearby who she met at school, brought him back to town, and got a job about a half hour from town. She sounded happy. She has kids now too. I wouldn't want her life, and I am sure she wonders what the hell I am doing with mine. The 20 year reunion is due soon, but considering my recent changes and expenses I probably won't be going to that one either. But I suppose if I really wanted to get in touch, I could. Thanks to the internet, and the fact that many people I grew up with never left town. I know where they are.

I guess it's good that we don't all desire to live in the same place, because there isn't enough room in any one place for everybody. We'd all have to live in pods, and take turns walking around, stretching our legs. There would be no one to farm, so we'd have no food to eat. I guess we wouldn't make it.

One day we drove past this ugly little tower. I asked Darcy what it was all about. He said it belonged to a hairdresser who bought it as a monument to himself. Naturally, I laughed and laughed because it was such a funny explanantion for a weird little space needle stuck in some suburban little neighborhood. But it was true: www.stefan.com.au/history/skyneedle_01.html

I took a picture of a banya tree last night, and a dragon tree, but it was dark so I wasn't able to take the best pictures. We were returning from having beers with some people Darcy plays soccer with. They invited me to join them next week, knowing I don't know how to play. So I think I will give it a go. A couple of them also said I could join them for net ball some time. I would love to play net ball, if only once. It is like basketball but there is no dribbling of the ball, very little running, and no backboard. You also have to wear a frilly little skirt with bike shorts underneath. It seems like a more static form basketball with less contact and funny outfits. Could be fun.

sausage doesn't grow on trees

I am feeling better since my last post. Shout out to my peeps who called me or emailed me little words of encouragement: Diane, Rebecca, Robyn. You are the women of rock.

I have spent the past 2 days weaving, walking, cooking, cleaning, and working on the computer. I cut a revised reel, and after I revise my website the two will go together and I will be armed for the day I am allowed to enter the workforce.

D is working on his site as well, and I have been teaching him what I know about various software. Last year he called me a computer geek, but now he is so excited about what he can do on the computer that I gave him a wedgie.

The photo, by the way, is a typical example of when it's his turn to make breakfast. Presentation is very important. He even garnishes! When I make eggs, I am just happy I didn't break the yokes.

The humidity here has made my hair wooly and ethnic. The relaxer chemicals are hard to resist, but I am remaining strong. I will let my roots be free.

There are some amazing trees here. One is called a Banyon Tree, and it's roots grow down from the branches, making the tree and collection of roots and small trunks supporting an ever branching out tree, as opposed to an ever growing up one. Another is an African Sausage tree, that has enormous heavy sausage looking pods that hang off of it. These trees grow around the city, but they also exist in the Botanical Garden, where I can sit and stare at them. There are also fig trees, gum trees, eucalyptus trees, and some different palm trees. One of them grows out almost 2-Dimensionallly, with it's fronds spreading like a fan. There is another called a Dragon Tree, with fronds shooting out like fire. It is occurring to me now that perhaps I should take some photographs and show them to you.

Today looks like rain.

blah boo hoo

These past couple of days have not been the best. I have had a few moments where I feel lonely. Sometimes when one is travelling abroad for an extended period of time, one can have times where one feels the desire to have something familiar. A conversation with a friend, a food, a phrase, even a smell that one can identify with. Often, when travelers - American ones anyway - have that urge, they will do something like go to a McDonald's, or go get drunk in a club and hook up with someone. I do not like McDonald's so the food is of little comfort, and I am married now so the latter choice is not one for me, though even when I was single I wasn't so casual with people.

Another comfort when travelling is knowing your lonely situation is temporary, and you will be returning to familiar ground soon. For me, the situation is not temporary. I will be here for an indefinite amount of time, provided I am approved for a spouse visa. I must not only endure this lonely spell, but the many more that are bound to come. So what do I do?

I don't know.

Wait, I suppose.

I have been helping my husband with his work, here and there. A little weaving, a little cleaning, a little errand running. It kills an afternoon. I went to a yoga class, Oki-Do style, which was nice but not invigorating. I sweat more walking to the class than when in it.

A funny thing I experience here is people's surprise that I am an American. "You don't have a very strong American accent." "You don't seem American". My husband said to me once:"I don't think of you as American. Just different."

I don't know how to take these statements, except with the old American response of "really?" I don't know if people are trying to say that they like me, or that they find me strange, or some mixture of the two. Maybe it helps initially to be unpinnable because people don't form an opinion of me based on where they think I am from. Generally I think Americans are well received here, more so than any other country I have been to, but they don't find us to be cute or some kind of novelty, like we often think of Australians or Europeans or anyone from another country with nice shoes and funny eating habits.

I do not try to hide the fact that I am American. If I am asked, I tell it straight. Why not? It's safe to do so. And though I am not happy with our current President, I am happy with what other people in the past administrations have done, and I am grateful for the freedoms and opportunities our country allows its citizens that were set up way before this president came along. I try my best to be an aware and compassionate citizen, and constantly battle the beast in me that wants to constantly slap the latest Apple computer on my credit card.


_____________________________________________________________________________

Anyhoo, to market to market to by a fat pig. home again home again, jiggedy jig.


Back to the markets today. Friday came along, and half the tomatoes, 2 avocadoes, all the carrots, the broccoli, and all the arrugula and lettuce we bought last weekend went bad. The cucumbers are still in the fridge, getting rubbery. We bought more sensible amounts today.

The one man band guy was on a coffee break when we were there, so no soundtrack for the event.

We watched some movies recently that we rented from Planet of the Tapes. Madagascar, and Wedding Crashers. Madagascar was very cute, and made me wish I was in Central Park in the Fall. It's beautiful then. Wedding Crashers was funny, but slightly too long. They could have made the inevitable happen a bit sooner, since as an audience member you know fairly quickly that Owen Wilson and the daughter will get together in the end. When Darcy was visiting me in LA, we spent an afternoon in Venice, walking down Abbott Kinney and looking in the little shops. Who should we pass on an almost empty street but Owen Wilson. It was great, it made me happy - Owen Wilson is the kind of movie star you may actually want to see or meet in real life, and I knew for Darcy it would be super exciting. Owen doesn't look so fresh faced in real life. He looks a bit weathered, a bit tired - he probably just looks his age. The interesting thing about that experience was that it now makes Owen Wilson seem like less of a movie star, and my husband seem more like a movie star. I know it's a weird thing to say and probably makes no sense, but there you go - I'm not American, just different.

These past couple of days have been brutally hot and humid. Along the river that winds through the city, there is a park with walkways on either side of it, with little benches to hang out, nature walks, restaurants and cafes, playgrounds, and a pool. This public pool is referred to as "the lagoon" as it is designed to kind of look like one. It has a main round pool area, with smaller connecting pools on either side. There is also a man made beach, and some sand at the bottom of the main pool. There are trees surrounding the pool, and rocks, and you have a view of the city on the other side of the river while you are swimming. In the daytime it looks like a little beach you may find near a hotel, and at night it feels more mysterious and romantic. It is the best public pool I have ever seen, and though I have not seen every public pool in the world, I would venture to say it is the best one there is. And you just jump in! No dank dark locker room where you have to put your things and shower before you jump in. No troubled teens waiting for you to leave so they can take your stuff. You just walk along the park, and if you want to jump in as you pass by, you can. And it is pretty clean. Of course it is chlorinated, but not so much that you can smell it. Though just the same, I would wear goggles before I opened my eyes in it. At the end of these hot days, after I have been helping D with his work, in addition to my own many and exhausting duties as a housewife, it has been nice to be able to walk down the street and jump into this lagoon, and do little flutter kicks off the edges as I watch people riding their pushies against the backdrop of the Brisbane skyline, see ibises sleeping in the palm trees, and duck as bats come swooping in to glide over the water. I was going to bring my camera the other night to take my own photos, but was wary of troubled teens lurking behind the olive trees, ready to take my gadgets.

Yesterday was the first blue sky I have seen here since my first day. And the past 6 days have been raining in addition to the general cloudiness. I have really enjoyed it, as has Darcy. It cools things off, and gets the intense blaring sun out of your eyes. Sun is good for you and can cheer up a person, but as maybe some Angelinos can attest to, waking up every single morning to a cloudless sky and a sun shining in your face can make one feel like there is some loud voice in your head saying "HELLO! I'M BACK! DID YOU MISS ME LAST NIGHT? AREN'T YOU HAPPY? WELL YOU MIGHT AS WELL BE, BECAUSE I'M THE SUN, AND I'M GOING TO BE HERE ON YOUR BACK ALL DAY, EVERYDAY!!!!!" I personally want to hide from that thing sometimes, The Sun.

I took a train yesterday to a neighborhood called Albion, to buy some wood stain for D (who I will now refer to my husband as). I missed the stop, because I expected the door to open on its own, and it didn't, there is a handle, and you must open the door yourself. I am used to doors opening automatically on a train, with a handle being there just for emergencies. Live and learn.

I came back, and as I walked around the back of our building to throw away some "rubbish", I almost walked into a spider's web that was about 4 feet in diameter, with a big black spider dead center, waiting to get me, I reckon. The spider looked like a war-robot spider, with long legs that looked like they were made out of metal. It freaked me out.

We have lots of ants, and some geckos running around our apartment, and mosquitoes at night. We sleep with a mosquito net around the bed, and it really works. It makes me laugh sometimes though, because it reminds me of when I bought a mosquito net for my friend Marty at Ikea as a thanks for taking me on as a roommate, and after he put it up he told us all that he now had a princess bed. So now I feel like D and I sleep in a princess bed. Anyway, I was told that the ants mean no cockroaches, which are unavoidable just about anywhere you go. HOWEVER, last night I was sitting on the bed (we hadn't "princessed" it for the night yet) and I saw a BIG roach slowly walk out from the hallway darkness onto the floor. It was reddish, had a metallic sheen, and took very calculated steps. I freaked out again, and D came and said "kill that thing" which he then tried to do himself with his flip-flop, but you can imagine with a name like flip-flop how effective it was. The roach ran under a shelf, and with any luck it will decide to take its own life and we will find it belly up months from now as we rearrange things.

I have a hard time killing insects. I feel that just because I don't like them doesn't mean they should have to die.

I eat meat though, and I like cows and lambs and pigs. And it's a strange feeling that I get sometimes when I think about the fact that I will eat a creature that is a victim, pure and simple. At least an insect will bite you, live off your blood or just make sure you stay away from their nesting ground. But what's a lamb going to do to you? Jump over a fence so you can sleep? Hardly grounds for murder.

I guess what I am saying is that I wish I was comfortable eating insects. At least they pick a fight with you first.

But actually, all that roach was doing was trying to walk across the floor.

But why did it have to look so metallic? That's fightin' sheen.

Anyway...

You should know that we rent our DVD's from a place called "Planet of the Tapes".

gettin' fit

Saturday was Farmer's market day, or just "the markets". Down on the riverbank near the West End area of Brisbane, they set up booths to sell fruit, vegetables, bread, meat, fish, eggs, etc. - as you would imagine a market would. They also have the "colorful" characters who are one man bands with kick drums on their backs or guys in south american pants who sit play african drums while their dog of many breeds faithfully waits. We bought lots of stuff, too much I fear. I hate buying food I know will go to waste. I have learned restraint in my years of living alone - buy a little several times a week, then you won't buy more than you need at any given time. But Darcy believes we will eat everything by week's end. If he does all the cooking, we definitely will. He likes to put as much stuff in the salad or the tomato sauce as he can see, whereas I am the cautious minimalist. Actually, we both end up doing a nice job. OK; I'll relax about it. We're supposed to have this budget, which is maybe why I get nervous, but Darcy imposed it, and then he broke it by buying 5 cucumbers and 4 apples and 2 avocadoes over budget. It's like being in school. Give me a rule and I will follow it, and if I think I may break it, forget it! I'm going home! It's time to make my own rules, man.

Later that afternoon, we walked over the pedestrian bridge to the Botanical Gardens, to kick the soccer ball around. I did not grow up playing soccer, so I don't know what I'm doing, but I figured I could kick a ball to someone like a decent beginner. We found a nice patch of grass, and ran around, kicking the ball. It was a lot of fun! Darcy showed me some kicks, and we did some passing exercises, and I ran around like a hyper kid because I kept missing the ball with my foot, or Darcy would kick it too far away for me to reach in time. By the end, I was out of breath, and he was not. We walked over to a place where he plays a pick up game of soccer a couple of times a week, and I checked out the Garden.

In Brissy, people are mad about getting fit. One morning at 6:30am when I couldn't sleep, I took a walk along the river, and it was busy! People in full racing gear on bicycles, runners, power walkers, steppers. Anytime of day you will see people running and biking, and kayaking in the river. Most people I have seen here are in pretty good shape, but in a way that seems healthy. I look forward to riding the pushie, as soon as I get one. I would like to have a run, but my sneakers are in a box on a boat somewhere in the Pacific. I hope they reach me soon.

When we got home, Darcy made dinner. Lamb sausages and a salad with dill, cilantro (coriander), arrugula (rocket), lettuce, cucumber, mung beans, and parmesan cheese. It was delicious. I am a lucky woman.

week one: done

Yesterday completed 7 days of living in Brisbane with my husband. How did I celebrate it? By being a good housewife. I think. I'm not sure. Well, whatever.

I woke up with the cough that I have had since around Valentine's Day. It was starting to fade, but I went from the warm dry air of LA to the freezing dry air of New Hampshire to the hot, humid, sticky, wet windy weather of Brisbane in about a 5 day span. I think my body is confused. Darcy said to me last night, "Why are you sick, baby? Stop being sick!"

When we are sick, it is frustrating because it is out of our control. We can drink tea, take vitamins, eat oranges, sleep a lot, do whatever it takes, but it is up to our bodies to figure it out. When we are not sick, we don't understand why other people are. It seems like they are just lazy or something.

My husband gets sick a lot more than I do. And for all of his blokey-ness, he sure has some la-di-dah reasons for it:

"I'm not loving myself enough right now."
"I am letting negative energy control things."

Maybe I got sick because I was stressed with all my preparations to move, having to say goodbye to people, giving away my cats to a friend, working intensely, not sleeping enough, and wondering if I am doing the right thing, moving here. Do I love myself enough? Probably not, but who does, man? I can remember plenty of times when I felt perfectly well, but wondered if I was deserving of this or that friend, or even of the good luck I have had in general with life. And certainly times when I have had one quick look in the mirror before I head out the door only to mumble, "give me a break".

I think we get sick for the same reasons we are not always happy, we feel differently from one day to the next about something that hasn't changed, and why life is hard sometimes and easy other times. We are human, dammit. And if we were great %100 of the time, we would have nothing to say to each other.

Anyway...

The week was pretty good. I walked around a bit, and helped Darcy with some work, and applied for a spouse visa. Last night I made a pretty good soup. I have to learn how to cook better things, since there is someone else to consider. I am so used to cooking just for myself that if something turned out badly, I would just eat it anyway. But now there is someone else at the end of the day looking to feel satisfied from his dinner. The pressure! I haven't done too badly.

Today we go to the Farmer's Market to buy the week's fruit and vegetables. Then I may see about purchasing a bike.