The Crumbs of Thought. And Sport.

I continue to help Darcy weave, but in a limited capacity. Working really gets him in a bad mood, it seems, and he is better off being alone. I have been giving him half days, and then doing things on my own. These past two days I have had things to do for Immigration, and that takes me away into the city for a few hours. Wednesday I had to get a chest xray to check me for tuberculosis, and yesterday I had to get an HIV test. Monday I have a full health exam, and will find out the results of the xray and blood test. I do not anticipate any problems, as I had blood work and a check up in the States before I came here, and I seem to be healthy.

These past 2 days have also been big sports days here in Australia. Wednesday night was Game 1 of State of Origin. It is a Rugby League series pitting Queensland against New South Wales. It is a very rough game, and it makes American Football look absolutely sissy. It is also easier to figure out the rules. I am almost there, whereas every time I watch the Superbowl I have to get re-briefed on what the hell is going on. Just the same, I am not a big fan of Rugby League. It is violent, and the players seem a bit on the thuggy side. The sport is also treated with the same reverence and fanfare that American Football is. They have a show for it here, called The Footy Show, where they talk about the week's games ad infinitum, and have players on to talk. The players all say the same stuff, with the same inflection, and say things like "I hurt me foot in the first half, but told meself, keep going mate." Many of them look like the kind of guys you may see as you walk into a pub, then decide that perhaps we should try another pub, this one seems like trouble. Anyway, we watched Game 1 of State of Origin at Ari & Tim's house. Tim loves the game, and Ari thinks it's horrible. She and the kids went to bed early. Tim is from Queensland, and was sad that they lost in the end. The next game is in June sometime, and maybe Queensland will win that one. I won't worry meself about it too much either way.


Last night was a "friendly" match between Greece and the Socceroos, who are headed to Germany soon for the World Cup. They have been talking about it on television since I got here in February. There is another sports show here called World Sport, and they have been counting the days. "Only 3,001 more days till the Socceroos head to Germany," and so on. The Australian team is very good. They won, 1-0 against Greece, who is not in the World Cup. Their first game in the Cup is against Brazil, the winners of the last World Cup. Australia hasn't been in the World Cup for the last 30 years. It was the last and only time until now. I guess that's why everyone is so excited here.

People here are really sports crazy. Back home I could easily go through the day, or the week for that matter, without discussing sports. Here it gets mentioned at least a couple of times a day. It throws me back to my youth, the only time when I felt passionate about athletics. I would watch Boston Celtics games and cry if they won, cry if they lost. I would dream up silly plays to defend against full court press. I watched ABC's Wide World of Sports, not matter what it was. I was into it all, though where the interest in sports came from I don't know, because my family was not into sports. My brother was, but in a separate way. He was into bicycles - racing and doing tricks and stuff, and conquering the fear of risks. I was into more traditional team competition, and people pushing the limits of their bodies. We did not get these interests from our parents, or relatives, so I guess I have to just chalk it up to the influence of the kids on the street, and maybe breakfast cereal commercials.

But now, I am only mildly interested in sports. It is hard for me to have a favorite team, as players are constantly being traded and shuffled around, or being lead by the money, no matter where it takes them. What's to be loyal to in that? Half the time, players don't even really live in the city they play for. How can they represent anything except their company? When people push their limits and excel, I am happy for them, but much of the time you find out they have been taking performance enhancing drugs. It's like admiring someone's beauty that has been surgically put there. I have been jaded and have lost some of the innocent excitement for sports that I once had.

It is some kind of innate desire in humans though, to attach their identity to something. It makes us feel like we are part of something bigger, and we belong somewhere, and it's important. Provided the team wins.

In other news, I have purchased a mobile phone. I don't really need it. In fact, I don't need it. But I felt it was a gesture towards living here. I can give people my number, they can text me, and I can write it on an application, and I can give it to prospective clients. Before, people could only call me at home, and the message is Darcy's voice saying that they have reached his office.

The phone is nice looking, and it has a camera. It also has a video camera in it. These features are rather standard these days, it seems, as I did not buy a very expensive phone. I don't know when I will use these gadgets. But I am sure I will, as I did not know how much I would use my mobile phone when I first had one. I have had several texts from friends in London, and one phone call from Darcy, wondering where I am. At the time, I was in the Botanical Gardens, walking home from my blood test. I had also purchased some packing tape for him at Officeworks, and eaten very undelicious rice paper rolls for lunch. When I got home, Darcy was already gone. I had 3 lamps to weave for him. So, I did that. I also hung up the laundry, cleaned the bathroom, did some dishes, and taped a piece of paper over an old vent that the ants were crawling out of to get to our kitchen counter. Darcy thinks I have gone insane. I just don't like the fact that if an apple has a nick in it, ants are all over it in a matter of minutes and I can no longer eat it. Or we can't leave a knife with jam on it on the counter for too long or else ants are claiming the knife for themselves. I also no longer admire the strength of 6 ants as they carry a potato chip crumb up the wall into the vent. I am hoping by taping up the vent for awhile, I will be re-directing them to some other place in the building, hopefully not just another part of our flat. But somehow I know they will find a way. I just received my first issue of National Geographic here (hooray!) and they interviewed that Harvard guy who put out that big book on ants in the 90's. Remember that? He says interesting things about ants. Things that freak me out. Ants have evolved into a caste system and with that a division of labor. Worker ants are sterile, and ant colonies are largely female most of the year. Ants practice cannibalism and enslave each other as well. Like humans, they are constantly at war with each other. I now look at the ants when they crawl across the wall with a little sadness. I see those little sterile creatures, and no longer wish to kill them, just send them in another direction. The ant professor said that the weight of all the ants in the world is roughly the weight of all the humans. Jeez Louise how many ants is that? I don't even want to think about it. I will stop.

How much of the way one lives is based on how other people tell them to live? I want to be free of it. Some things you just have to do, because of the government and the law, but within this, I want to shake the rest. I have been thinking about this because people have all sorts of suggestions as to what I should do with myself, unsolicited. I feel obligated to do these things sometimes, because maybe they know better than I do. But they don't. And if you don't take their suggestions, it upsets them, and they think you are just going down the wrong path, man. I have been trying to keep my troubles to myself, because I don't want any more chatter in my head about what I should be doing.

Australia so far has shown me 2 extremes - one of pull yourself up by your bootstraps and quit your winging, or be a hippie freak and blame your problems on your childhood and the alien abduction you had, then take it out on all your relationships. It is very hard to simply find a sympathetic ear, or a friendly arm around your shoulder. No one wants to really listen. I am understanding it more as I observe the culture. The lack of compassion I certainly can't say is unique to this place, but I am finding it more prevalent here.

It is making me more nostalgic these days, for my East Coast life. I have a friend who once told me that it was so much easier to spot a true friend on the East Coast than the West Coast, as because it is so warm and sunny all the time, everyone on the West Coast has a friendly facade, so it takes a while to find out who they really are. I guess a truly warm person is always easier to find in the shade. I think plenty of people would take offense at that, and I have met really wonderful people in California. But at the same time, I know what he meant. But maybe I only know what he meant because I am from the East. Whatever. I am just feeling nostalgic because I long for a sense of place and belonging. But I don't feel I will get that from watching State of Origin.

At the same time, I am glad I am not an ant, belonging to a caste system, programmed for moving crumbs up a wall, unable to have children.

Am I sure I am not this???????


The neighbor below us is really funny. Yesterday he was singing along to the Roxy Music song "Love is the Drug" at full volume. Today he is sampling classic Yes.

Friday night we went to the Brisbane Jazz Club. It's along the river heading East, and we rode there on our pushies. It is the same route that I have been running. I had run the path earlier that day. It has been getting better with each run. The first day I ran, it was really really hard. I reached the Jazz Club, turned around to run back, and thought to myself, "Am I going to make it?" I did, but walking into the kitchen afterward, I was met with a hearty laugh. Darcy thought my face looked like a tomato. I looked in the mirror. It did. I did not look healthy. It looked like something was very wrong with me. After the last run, I looked a bit better, with red cheeks only.

I don't know if there are any other jazz clubs here in Brisbane. There might be. I happened to notice this one on a bike ride one day. It is a real club, in that it has members. There is music there every night. When we went, there was a work event there for the Brisbane City Council. Most of them were outside, drinking and socializing by the river. A date came and sat in front of us for a little while too. They seemed physically ill suited. She seemed very nervous, though not unhappy to be there. He seemed to be trying his best to get a little physical contact. They lasted 2 songs, then went outside. The guy grabbed the woman's arm and wrapped it around his waist. I wondered if she liked that. It was hard to tell.

The music was good, but pretty tame. There was a drummer, a bass player, a pianist, a trumpeter and a saxophone player. They all looked fairly young too, maybe early 30's at the most. They did the typical form of starting with the melody, then everyone did a little solo, and we applauded after each one, then the finale, a reintroduction of the meoldy with some strength. I often get tired of appaulding after each little solo. Why can't we just wait for the song to finish, and enjoy the music? Eh. Darcy feels the same. We ate some food there, and shared a bottle of white. It was enjoyable, not too pricey, and a refreshing change of activity. The air was cool and it was a lovely bike ride home.

The rest of the weekend was uneventful, but in a really good way. We had originally planned to go away camping for about week, as Darcy was burned out and we wanted to have some non work/immigration time together. As I was packing things to go, Darcy went to drive to work, and the car would not start. The car has a problem with the starter or ignition. Either way, it kept us in Brisbane, and tomorrow I will go buy a basket for the back of my bicycle, as it continues to be my mode of transportation.

Today we started work again. Darcy has a bunch of jobs to finish by June 19, the day before my birthday. I will continue to help him, but maybe things will change for me before then and I will have my own work? I have no idea at this point. Anyway, work has commenced. These lights are bigger though. Floor lamps. They are much easier and faster to weave than the aguileras. I spent some of the day cutting, cleaning and straightening rattan sticks, then switched over to weaving when I cut my thumb with the saw. ouch. After lunch Darcy said he needed to work alone because he was in a bad mood. I went to the supermarket and bought some things.

These days I am feeling fine. I am feeling pretty good about being here with my spouse, I don't feel stressed about money or work, and I am being conscious about taking it easy on myself. As a result, I am not finding things too hard. It is amazing sometimes when I learn about the power of the mind. Nothing externally has changed, but because my thoughts are different, I feel different about my situation. Maybe I am going to make it here, after all.

Jesus, Mary and Amelie

Last night we saw "The DaVinci Code" at the cinema. I have not read the book, and, similar to the Harry Potter craze, never got caught up in wanting to read it. I liked the movie though. I was impressed at how the author put events together to make a very plausible story, be it accurate or not. The cast was good, seemed very believable, and Paris is gorgeous, as usual. The monk murderer was really scary, holy cow. What a nut job. I was happy to see Audrey Tatou play a woman who isn't just cute as a button all the time, though she is awfully cute.

I am glad I did not read the book, because the movie stressed me out enough without a book's descriptions of gruesome acts and going into the minds of killers. If I read the book I would probably have a hand full of hangnails. I got tired of everyone Tom Hanks and Audrey Tatou encountered having a suspicious look about them. Every time someone "helped" them, I would think, okay, this person is up to no good - and then I would just be waiting for guy to turn on them, which inevitably he did.

I have always liked paintings of the Madonna and Child, the Pieta, and the Annunciation. I don't know why, because I am not a practicing Catholic. But I like the expressions on their faces. The Madonna always has a sense of sadness about her, because she knows what's in store for her son. The baby always looks up, hopeful but wise. If there is anyone else in the painting, they always look down at the child, with a sadness.

The Annunciation is always weird, because the angel has a message, and is very no-nonsense about it, or even a little bit happy. Mary just looks resigned. The background is always shown in some sort of peephole way, through a window or under an arm, so that you don't notice unless you choose to. The countryside has an ironic placidness about it, given the scene being depicted between the figures in the foreground.

The Pieta is just sad. No amount of foretelling could prepare Mary for how she would feel.

Mary and Jesus are divine, but in these images, both she and Jesus are just so human. What woman wants to get involuntarily pregnant, and have to tell their husband? What mother doesn't have a sense of worry about the world they have brought a child into, never mind already knowing their child's fate? And how could seeing your child die not be a painful experience, even if you knew it was going to happen? The reactions depicted are very human, even if the characters are supposed to be somehow above that.

I have often believed that Jesus was just a man. What's wrong with that? Other people in this life have had profound and positive effects and created big shifts in the course of the human race while having a spouse, and giving birth. Why can't Mary just have a baby the good old fashioned way? Why not let her have a little fun? In the movie it seemed the church had issue that Jesus was not descended from royalty - he came from peasants. But the concept of royalty is just that, a concept. We made it up. It only means something because collectively we decided it did. Or we would be thrown into the dungeon and burned at the stake.

Anyway, I thought the movie was thought provoking, but to search and search and end up in a small church surrounded by ogling silent people who already know you are a descendant of Jesus - why didn't they contact her in the first place? Why is it all a big secret? In this day and age, that kind of knowledge is not going to change the way people live their lives - change will happen because of other things. So, in the end, what's the big deal?

I was nervous throughout the movie though. I didn't want to see the crazy monk freak kill anyone, and I didn't want to find out how the next guy was going to "get" them. At one point, though, I felt someone holding my hand. It was a comforting hand. I didn't even realize it had happened. No, it wasn't Jesus. It was my husband. And he took my arm after the movie, and we walked along the river, and I was happy.

Yahoo! But Serious

We returned from Byron Bay yesterday. We went there last Wednesday, because Darcy needed to make some furniture out of logs, and knew a guy who could give him the materials for free. We were also invited to go camping that weekend. So, we thought we would go down on Wednesday, do the work Thursday, go camping Friday and Saturday, then come back Sunday.

I have been having a very hard time here. Moving to another country is a scary thing to do. Even though we all speak English, we don't all behave the same, and what is polite to me is weird to others, and so on. I have had moments when I have felt very alone, and do not really have someone I can just talk to, and be myself with. I have been dealing, but to be honest these days I have just felt exhausted by it. I am trying very hard to be happy, to be nice, to get along, to go with the flow, and to be sensitive to my husband. But after 2 months, and no phone call from Immigration, I have let it go.

Darcy's friends are nice to me. A few of them have invited me to come and visit them on my own. Two of them asked me how I was doing, in a real way. It was so good to talk to someone about my difficulties and have her just listen. The few chats I had helped to relax me, and made me feel like less of a visitor.

When we got to Byron Bay we found out that the camping trip was 2 hours inland, on a treachorous road, it was supposed to rain, and we would only be going for 1 night, Saturday night. There would be about 10 people going, of whom I only knew a few. I did not want to go. After 3 days of trying to make friends and be socialable and drink too much, I could not imagine any more, under those conditions. I needed a break.

I have often felt like a bit of a loser because I get stupid shy and sometimes freeze up and don't want to go to parties where I have to talk to strangers all night. I don't know what to say a lot of the time, and I hate talking about stuff just for the sake of talking. As a person new to Australia, going to a party where they are all friends can be hard, because you are with people who have history with each other and where they live, so they have all kinds of things to talk about, and would rather talk to each other than to you. My list of topics is shorter with these people, and it mostly deals with the fact that I am not from here: where are you from? What's it like there? have you found differences between the US and Australia? etc... I have really been doing my best, but at the end of the night, I am often still sitting alone, smiling to whoever is chatting around me. I can do this for a couple of nights, but after 3, I need to retreat, and have a rest.

It suddenly occurred to me, during this trip, that that is okay. I don't have to be a super social person, totally at ease and acclimated to Australian life if I don't feel that way. I don't have to feel bad for having a tough time, or like I am failing something. Maybe I need to live life at my own pace.

One good conversation I had on one of these nights was with a woman from Germany who has been here for 6 years. She teaches yoga in Byron Bay. She originally came here to be with a man, and left him a couple of years ago. She told me that I needed to be easy on myself, and that though they seem friendly, she has found that Australians are actually quite difficult to truly become friends with. But at the same time, she would never go back to where she came from, as she has changed, and would not be returning to whatever world she had left, as she had sort of taken that world away with her. There is a seriousness to her, though she is warm and friendly, and I understood how she could have difficulty relating. She invited me to come visit her some time. I will.


We are different in culture, but we are also different as individuals, and I have to remember that. I am not a super social person, though I have my moments. I am better one-on-one, and though I know I can be silly and make people laugh, I am serious. That is the way I am, and though I need to make efforts to have a life here, I don't need to change who I am. I need to try and be me, to the best of my ability. I am a homebody and a little geeky and I make friends slowly but surely. It is hard to remember those things when you are trying to be polite.

This is a serious entry, but this is what came up this past week. It had to come up sometime. I have been so stressed and unhappy about the stagnancy in my life here so far that something needed to break and teach me a little patience.

I am happy to say that we didn't go camping. Darcy wasn't up for it either, as he is experiencing some serious neck pain.

The best part of the trip was when we went to Brae's beach before driving home. It is a beach that you get to on a steep trail. The beach was empty when we got there. We went with Darcy's best mate, Dominic, a jeweller who made us some beautiful wedding bands as a gift. We also went with 3 other people: Ian, Jan, and Belgium Bob.

The water was beautiful. We swam, and Dom, Bob and Ian surfed. There was no one else there. It was relaxing and refreshing.

We then ate some fish and chips with Dominic and Belgium Bob before hitting the road to Brissy. Bob is called Belgium Bob because he is from Belgium, but has been here for 11 years. He works for the state park department, mainly dealing with preserving the native flora and fauna. He is very calm and easy to talk to. Darcy asked him if he had a hard time relating to Australians.

Bob said, "Yes, it took me a long time to make friends here. Many years." I asked him if people treat him like a local person now, or if he is still considered a foreigner. He said he is still considered a foreigner, except amongst his friends. I did not point out that his friends refer to him as Belgium Bob. I assume the name does not tell of the way he is treated.

I will probably always be thought of as "Alicia the American." But that is okay, because that is what I am. It does not mean I won't make friends. I will just be meeting them slowly, when I am ready, and all is as it should be.

This is a weird entry. I didn't know what else to tell you.

The weekend has ended, and another week has begun. Not that I would really be able to tell the difference. I am doing things regardless of what day it is, since I CAN'T WORK!!!!! I need to look on the positive side of that, I guess. Here is my chance to do all the things I wish I could do when I am working. Like...like...well...

This past weekend, I don't know which day exactly, was Buddha's birthday. Brisbane celebrated it on the river. We met up with friends of Darcy's, John and Megan and their 2 and 4 year old daughters, Eliza and Jemima, on Saturday, on the river near the festival. We had a beer, the girls had lemonade, we ate chips (french fries), then walked along and checked out the action. In the big stage there were karate demonstrations and Chinese dance, then following were booths selling noodles and soup and sushi and sesame doughnuts and boba. There was a tent under which they were teaching pottery and things for kids. You could buy used clothing, paper monkeys, and socks. Socks! Just regular old socks, but from a Chinese person. There was a stage at the other end of the park where bands were playing music, but they were just rock bands. Despite the pretty red paper lamps and fireworks in the evening, there seemed to be little attention being paid to Buddha. But I guess Buddha doesn't really care anyway. We don't really die or are born, we are just in a plane of existence blah blah blah. But I thought it was a cheap excuse to sell stuff and eat stuff. But John said, "I don't know if it would have been any different in Buddha's time." I think he is probably right. What else would people do in a public celebration of something? I guess everyone sitting down on the riverbank and meditating for 4 hours doesn't earn much money for the city. It would sure calm everyone down, though!

That evening, I made risotto, courtesy of my friend Andy, who sent me the recipe for the amazing one he made when visiting me. It was not as good as his, but was still tasty, and Darcy even had seconds, so that is saying something, because he is a fussy eater. The risotto had mushrooms and leeks in it. Leeks are the coolest looking vegetable. The next time you are in the supermarket, check out the leafy top of a leek. The green ends grow out in a beautiful pattern. I am told you can't eat that part, but if I were a fancy chef I may figure out how to use that bit as a garnish, because it is very cool. Last night, Darcy took the leftover risotto, rolled it into balls, and fried the balls in canola oil. It was fantastic! I recommend giving it a try.

Before we went to Buddha's birthday we went to the markets to buy our fruit and veg (they shorten the word here to "veg"). It is so much cheaper here than anywhere I have shopped in a first world country. We bought a bag of passionfruit - meaning, probably 10 - for 2 dollars. Two Australian dollars, which is about 1.60 USD. In Ralph's, in LA, 1 passionfruit costs $2USD. Unbelievable. We bought mangoes for 80¢, and avocados for 80¢. You can eat really healthy here, on the cheap. If only we had a yard, we could have a big table outside and eat amazing food and drink wine. Then, maybe someday, I could make some friends and they could join us at the table, and suddenly life seems like it's gonna be ok.

Whatever. We bought some nice food.

I bought some decaf coffee. Well, decaf espresso. Lavazza makes a really nice one. It comes in a blue package. I bought espresso because that is the kind of coffee maker we have - one of those ones where you screw off the bottom and put water and coffee in there, and it brews on the stove. It is good, because we drink smaller amounts as a result, and with decaf you are not ready to pick a fight with the sponge because it fell on the floor. Thank you, Lavazza, for making a good decaf espresso. Now only the sun gives me reason to kick a wall. Not that I do. I am too delicate for that.

On Sunday we took a blanket (sheet) and a soccer ball (true) and some books (didn't read them) and went to the Botanical Gardens for a few hours. We kicked the ball around, and just sat there. Is it lame to just sit there in silence and stare at stuff? I looked at people, and Darcy tried to relax his neck, because we have been swapping stiff necks and sore backs. What's up with that? The park was looking green. We found a shady spot. There were lots of people out, but we still had space to kick the ball. Darcy said I am getting better with the ball, and maybe I should join a league, and play with the burly chicks we saw one day. I said no. I am not into playing high contact sports anymore. I am happy to kick it around casually, but I don't want to wear a uniform and risk injury again. Soccer players wear good socks though. Stripes!

I bought striped socks from Chinese man at the markets, the same one who sold socks on Buddha's birthday. The socks have toes, so I can wear them with flip flops. Around the house, not out, of course.

At the park, there was a Kookaburra bird, but it wasn't sitting on a gum tree, it was sitting on a tree that Darcy knows the name of. Those birds are very pretty, and make a funny sound, but I wouldn't say it sounds like laughter. It sounds more like chimpanzees, or my idea of what chimpanzees sound like. That bird just sat there, still, unfazed by our kicking the ball, and every once in awhile it would fly down to the ground suddenly, and pull up a worm or and insect from the ground. Then, it would fly back to the branch, and wait again. We did not scare it, we did not irritate it, it seemed very content and in control. Some Myna birds tried to out stare him and take over his branch, but gave up, as he was intimidating in his confidence. He possessed qualities that I would like to possess. But, as I have said before, I do not want to eat insects.

Walkin' and Gawkin'

I had another morning of walking around, giving Darcy time alone in the place. What did I see? Well...

Not much that I haven't before. Walked along the river, then sat down for awhile. Did a little people watching. Everyone seemed to be retired and wearing beige outfits with sensible shoes, or young and Japanese walking in a large gang, sporting the latest fashions and hairdos. Not exciting people watching today. The sun was bright and strong and seemed to be saying to me, "HI. AREN'T YOU HAPPY TO SEE ME? HUH? YOU'RE SMILING, AREN'T YOU? ISN'T IT THE MOST BEAUTIFUL FUCKING DAY YOU'VE EVER SEEN? AGAIN????" I am sick of warm weather. Totally sick of it. I am sick of everyday being cloudless and sunny and when you are in the shade you need a sweater and when you take 2 steps out - and I mean, 2 steps - you break into a sweat because the sun is so strong. I am committed to being here with my husband, but our next move will be to someplace with a few more seasons. One season isn't enough.

Anyway, after sitting on a bench for a good long while, thinking about things and having odd memories pop into my head, I went to the Queensland Art Gallery, which is free!

I always seem to manage going to museums or galleries on school group day. Why is that? The place was swarming with teens. And here, kids have to wear uniforms, so everyone was wearing knee socks and bermuda shorts or skirts and short-sleeve button-down shirts. They were doing the same things that kids in the States do. Walk around bored, take notes for their classroom assignment, cluster in little clusters and gossip about each other, flirt, make fun of the art, and get embarassed by the nudes.

There was an exhibit of works by contemporary Aboriginal artists, who were winners of a contest sponsored by a mining company. This made me feel sad, like when I found out how much the tobacco companies contribute to the arts in the States. I wonder if the company is mining in areas near Aboriginal Reservations, or something. Anyway, I liked some of the work. Some people painted in that dotted style that is characteristic of what we are used to seeing in Aboriginal art, but there was also some sculpture. The winner did a wall installation of wires and lights that I didn't really get, but I suppose if I was just passing it on the street I would like it. Beyond the exhibit, there were some really nice paintings from Australian artists from 1880 - 1950, approximately. There were also some nice photographs of people from the 1930's. Boy, that was just rough all over, the 1930's. Many people down on their luck, during that time, in Australia too.

I got sick of all the teens running around, so I left. That sun was just beating me down, smiling all the while. Someone should make a thriller movie called "The Sun", and in it everyone thinks the Sun is benign when really it is not. I know I know it's neither, it's people who make it seem one or the other. Fine - good point. But it doesn't make the sun easier to bear. I finally bought some new sunglasses in the CBD, then decided it was time to go home.

Darcy was re-watching a DVD we rented - "The Island". It seemed pretty good, but I wasn't in the mood. I am not in the mood for much today, I suppose.

There are some differences in word usage here that I have found it easier to change to, rather than have to explain whenever I say my words. For example, sweater=jumper. I just use the word jumper now. It's easier, and no one laughs at me. Also, a pepper is a capsicum. So a red pepper is a red capsicum, and so on. Raisins are sultanas. I recently saw an ad on TV for Kellogg's Sultana Bran, I kid you not. We have a box of golden sultanas in the kitchen.

Darcy is gone for a couple of hours, and it is my time to do yoga, but I think I am feeling a little under the weather, because it is 5pm and all I want to do is get in bed. My mind is not running at its usual capacity, and I am unable to convey the joys sorrows and complexities of living my life here. Perhaps after Buddha's birthday I will have more to tell you.

Walkin' n' Talkin'

We just finished another holiday weekend - Labor Day Weekend. It didn't mean anything to us because we are broke, and already finished our big jobs, so a break was already there. Though today we go to Darcy's workspace to finish some other jobs.

Yesterday Darcy asked for some time alone in the apartment, so I went walking. It being Labor Day, all the shops were closed, but the bars and some cafes were open. All was pretty quiet in the CBD, minus the teens going to the movies, skateboarding on various public surfaces, and generally hanging out. The Museum of Brisbane was open, so I went in there. It was interesting. Some local artists reinterpreted some old pieces of art depicting Brisbane in the 1800's. The city looked much nicer then. Prettier buildings. I liked what a couple of the artists did in their reinterpretations, but others I wasn't into. I saw lots of old photographs of what the city looked like 100 years ago. It was a country town. It is amazing the growth that this and many other cities have experienced over the last 150 years. It could not have been forseen.

I walked back to where Darcy and I went earlier last week, a neighborhood called Spring Hill. It is a cute pocket of little houses and quiet streets surrounded by the city. We are talking about maybe moving because Darcy needs a workspace but doesn't want a long lease or a big warehouse, so perhaps renting a house he can work in may be best. Spring Hill seems like it could be good, but it is far away from the river and the Botanical Gardens, and that makes being here livable. Without those things nearby, I don't know if I would enjoy myself as much. But, you never know.

I walked and walked and walked and walked and after awhile I got sick of walking. It was warm out, and the sun was very strong, and I forgot my hat and lost my sunglasses. If I had more money, I would have taken a river cruise, but I decided I'd just walk home, and if he needed more time alone, I would go for a bike ride.

I got home, and stayed. Watched some TV, ate a little dinner, and stretched my legs out on the bed. Said very little. Sometimes, I tell myself, ok you're not going to say anything for the next hour. An hour goes by, and I feel so calm. As if words coming out of my mouth can aggravate me. Maybe those monks have something. Then again, they also brew very strong ale. Maybe they are numbing themselves to drown out the chatter in their brains.

Next weekend is Buddha's Birthday. I don't know what day, exactly. They are celebrating it in Brisbane next Friday, Saturday and Sunday. I walked along the river and saw all these red lanterns hung up. They look very pretty. I am curious to see what else they do here to celebrate. I myself will try to be very quiet.

I wish I wish I wish I could start looking and getting some FX work. I need it. I was thinking I could use this time to be really creative, maybe write something besides this blog. But I am not coming up with any ideas. Where did my mind go?

If anyone can give me a writing assignment, just for kicks, that could be fun.

I could be very quiet today if I am not asked any questions. But Darcy asks me questions all the time, like, where's my wallet? Have you seen my keys? How am I going to do all these jobs? What's for lunch?

For the next hour, if he asks me a question, I will answer with "banana". See what happens.