Set My People Gluten Free

Tuesday night we went out for dinner in the West End, a neighborhood which is a 10 minute walk from our apartment. We met up with Saul and his brother, who was in town visiting. We ate at this cafe called The Forest, where the menu is all vegan and mostly organic. But, it actually tastes really good! They have lots of stir fry, and Thai, and polenta bakes and salads as well as tofu and tempeh burgers. And, you can buy organic wine and beer there. I ate potato curry and some thai vegetables and a little spinach salad. Not bad, not bad at all.

West End is full of urban hippies, and The Forest is an Urban Hippie magnet. At night the place has live music, and on Tuesday it was Urban Hippie Reggae. 3 white guys in sloppy clothes, one wearing a knit cap, were jamming with a bass, a drum, and a guitar. They had a mic, and people went over and sang to the music as they liked. Luckily, the two we heard sounded good. There were many white people with dreadlocks, a real pet peeve of mine, for reasons I can't tell you because I don't know. When I see a white guy walking down the street with his dreadlocks swaying in the breeze, it pisses me off. How much work must it be to get fine straight hair into a dreadlock? And can you imagine how dirty it is? I used to go to this gym in Hollywood where there was a white guy with dreads almost to the backs of his knees. He'd be dripping sweat all over the treadmill, and never put his hair back. EEEEEWWWWWW!!!!

I have the bad habit of writing off the urban hippies. I judge without knowing them. I look at them and think, they all probably came from wealthy parents and don't owe student loans and have had every opportunity given to them, and this mode of dress is just some bad habit that developed when they were rebelling against their families as a teen, or they assumed when they went out with some guy or woman at one time. They think they are all about world peace and sustainability and being good to one another, but in reality they are the pickiest, most high maintenance group of spoiled nut jobs you'll ever meet. Naturally, I am basing this opinion on people I have met in the past, and should give everyone a fair shot. After all, we're all picky. And they are probably using less water than I am.

To be real, I like The Forest. Hang outs are cool. I miss those days when we had hang outs, when Potsie and Ralph would meet me at Arnold's for a burg - wait. That wasn't me.

Anyway, hang outs are cool. You just go to some place without any particular reason, and hang out there, have a beer or coffee or whatever, and maybe you'll see someone there you know, maybe you won't. And the place has good food for cheap to boot. Maybe one day I will find a hang out to call my own.

The next day I woke up and thought, we live in this neighborhood where we can buy bread from a bakery! We can buy meat from a butcher! We can get fish from the fish shop! I'm going to get some bread, man!

I now have a basket on the back of my bike, which allows me to easily transport food and stuff. I rode down to Sol Bakery, in the West End, a place where one may spot an Urban Hippie. I did not see any, except maybe the women behind the counter were Urban Hippies, but they were wearing all black and aprons so it was hard to tell. They were very pleasant.

I bought 2 loaves: Pain de Campagne (country bread) and Spelt MEGAgrain (pictured above). The spelt megagrain was unbelievably good. Who knew? The country bread was nice too, but man, bring on the spelt! Our friend Saul doesn't eat wheat, so he told us about the spelt. I thought at first that eating spelt bread was just trying too hard, and maybe one should just not eat bread, but, I was wrong. It's damn good, and now I will have to become one of those chicks that goes to the bakery for Organic Spelt Bread.

Today I went to the Farmer's Market by myself, because Darcy had to help some friends move. I met Saul there for a coffee. As we sat beneath the Fig tree, surrounded by Urban Hippies, and I sipped my Chai tea, I asked Saul if he had ever been part of the urban hippie world. No, he replied, as he brushed a leaf off of his new Brazilian shoes. He was never attracted to the world of the Urban Hippie. His life just never drew him to that. Maybe he didn't dig the music. Who knows why we are drawn to certain styles.

As a teenager, there were the kids who listened to the Grateful Dead and wore those ugly bright tie dyes and did lots of LSD. Before I went to college I worked for a State Lobbying group called The New Hampshire People's Alliance and participated in protests and had people signing petitions for the Superfund Bill and to shut down our state's nuclear power plant. I worked with people who were verging on urban hippie. But, where we were was just not quite urban enough. They were more like mountain climbers who have come down to do something for the world below. In college, there were plenty of hippie kids who generally came from rich families and wore Guatemalan wool things and always had pot. I befriended many of these people through my youth, but never wanted to adorn myself with their crap. I preferred to wear dark shapeless things, and be depressed.

Being surrounded by the Urban Hippies now, I still am a bit stylistically challenged, but just the same do not prefer to assume their look. I am content to just enjoy the atmosphere.

I do not yet have the Visa. It will take maybe another week. Just the same, I have been contacting companies and sending out my reel. There are not that many companies here, but enough maybe to get by, eventually. I met with one place here in Brisbane. They are staffed up, it was just to let them know I am here if they ever need extra help. The woman I met with was really nice and gave me the names of other places in Australia that I can contact. I sure hope I can work soon. But I am not panicking. It will be fine.

Last night Darcy and I went to a pub and then walked across the street where every Friday night the area in front of the bike shop becomes a Latin dance floor. The cafe next to the bike shop sets up a DJ, and has salsa and merengue lessons, then lots of people come and dance the night away. And it's free! I love going there. We always just watch, because Darcy has never salsa danced, but last night he was game, so I tried to teach him what I know as we danced along. It was sooooooo much fun! I miss salsa dancing. There are regulars there who dance with different partners and get all dressed up for the occasion. The music is good and there is a cafe on one side, and a bar on the other, so you can have a break and a drink if you want. We danced a few songs, and then we came home. There were no urban hippies there. Or maybe they were underneath their frilly dresses and collared shirts.

Hooray Again

We had our interview, and we passed. I'm "cool" for 2 years. I won't be able to work for 2 more weeks, but I am good to go after that. We went out and got drunk after our interview, so I will tell more in a day or two. But - hallelujah! i can stress about bills in a whole new country.

Everything's Gone Green

Tomorrow is our appointment with Immigration. We won't know until tomorrow, and I am hoping all will go well. I feel tired when I think about the whole thing. I want it to be done, and to be able to move on to the next mystery.

We have had 4 days of glorious rain. Sometimes light, sometimes heavy, sometimes just clouds. Like menstruation. But so much better than menstruation. Really; it's true. We've had a break from the freaky sun and lawns that were yellowing are green, and leaves have come back to life, and my hair is ridiculous. Frizz frizz frizz. It's a real afro now. I catch myself in a shop window and feel like I am looking at someone else. It's weird. Still getting used to it, I guess.

My birthday was Tuesday and so many people remembered and called and emailed and it was a real spirit-lifter. Thank you everyone! It was a nice and simple day - late morning pancake breakfast, a bouquet of beautiful Tiger lilies from Darcy, hanging out, watched the movie "Kinsey" on DVD, then went out for drinks and a great meal with our friend Saul. I had the duck. It was splendid, and all agreed I had the best dish.

With all the rain, I have not been out and about as much. I rented on DVD "Pride and Prejudice", but not the recent Hollywood flick, the BBC television series starring Colin Firth. The story ends in such a romantic way it is hard to take. Hard to take because it is inconceivable to me that anyone can be of such noble character. And that thought saddens me. Would I do all that Mr. Darcy did to right the wrongs of past errors of judgment? I would like to think I would, but I don't know. I guess having a lot of money helps. That Mr. Darcy character, in the end, is impossible not to have a crush on. And the chemistry between he (Colin Firth) and Elizabeth Bennet (Jennifer Ehle) is great, and reminds me of the excitement and intensity and passion when you first get together with someone. It's beautiful, and fun, and makes you feel as if all is ok in the world, and you can handle anything!

That Colin Firth. I rarely think about movie stars in that teenage way anymore, but hubba hubba. I have seen him in a few things, the last being Bridget Jones' Diary, and from his first appearance on screen, I couldn't imagine why Bridget Jones would have any attraction to the Hugh Grant character. I just hope Mr. Firth sticks to English films, and doesn't get involved in some dumb action movie where he has to save the world or kill vampires or something. Stick to being from some other period of English History! It suits you!

I am glad I do not live in that period though. Women had few liberties, and if you could not marry you were a burden. And if you were lucky you could marry someone you actually liked. I know that still exists today in much of the world. In the West, however, we are all about marrying for love. We are hooked on romance. It's a drug. Is this good, this constant pursuit of pleasure? Pleasure is a fleeting thing. It leaves us just wanting more, as opposed to being satisfied with what we have. I don't know. Sometimes I look at everything I have done in my life and what I strive for and often wonder if I am even capable of knowing when I am striving for true happiness and when I am striving for pleasure. ANYway...

Today I had a brief stroll along the river, and passed a cafe playing that song "Keep On Loving You" by REO Speedwagon. It saddens me to think that bad music like REO Speedwagon has polluted our tastes as well as tastes here, to the point that a cafe would think their patrons should listen to it whilst sipping on a Flat White. It reminded me of being in sixth grade, and forming an air band, the Devoettes. Our big hit was Whip It, by Devo, which we would be asked to "play" on our tennis rackets 2 or 3 times during the course of a concert, which the 2 sixth grade teachers would grant us on the odd afternoon. The Devoettes consisted of 3 people: me, B, and K (I will not reveal their names as they have not given me consent to do so and their names are not in the public domain). But after a couple of shows The Popular Girls wanted a piece of the action, so we relented, because we didn't want any trouble, and suddenly I wasn't just "Brillo Pad", but someone cool. But when The Popular Girls came on board, there wasn't enough room for us to do our dances, and we didn't have enough tennis rackets for everyone. So we had to choose songs with more elaborate orchestrations, and take turns with "vocals". They (The Popular Girls) liked that stupid REO Speedwagon song. It was no "Whip It", or "Rapture", but it was on the radio and everyone listened to it. I hated it. But, I made myself like it because I wanted to be liked and not appear strange. What a waste of time. This memory was conjured as I passed this cafe on the Brisbane River and wondered how many crap songs or movies or fashions get anywhere because we as a population do not want to seem out-of-date or weird to the people around us. Especially as teenagers, but it's not the kind of thing that completely goes away. I catch myself measuring my opinions based on others all the time. When I catch it, I get embarrassed in front of myself. When the hell will I get out of sixth grade?

I hope it rains again tomorrow. I hung our clothes up to dry 2 days ago and they were just getting wetter. So, I brought them to the Laundromat around the corner and dried them. Laundromats are the same here as back home. Places that you are relieved to have been to, but felt awkward in during the process. I am just glad to have some clean socks again.

I Can't Remember This Past Week

After finding out I have an interview with Immigration, everything else has been a bit blurry. I have spent the week in my head for the most part, plotting and worrying and wondering and planning based on the 2 possible outcomes of the upcoming appointment. It's pointless to do this, I know, but what the hell else do I have to do, while watching soccer games and weaving lamps round and round and round I go, one is done and on to the next thing, on and on.

We finished a big job this week, and delivered it. We rented a van for half a day and drove to some place outside of the city, full of warehouses and office parks and patches of homes. Things are arranged the same here as in many other cities I have been to. There is the urban center, with a high concentration of houses and apartments and high rises and office buildings, then further out are some cute homes, then further out cute homes, but cheaper looking with their own shopping area, then warehouses and office parks and superstores and a scattering of houses. I get excited to drive out and check out other places, but I usually see the same kinds of things.

The Queen's birthday was Monday, so it was a Public Holiday. Australia is still part of the Commonwealth, don'tcha know. Darcy needed deliveries in order to work, because he was out of supplies, so he had to wait until Tuesday to work, so he had the day off, whether he liked it or not. We went to Manly, which is an area of Brisbane on the coast. Because Brisbane is blocked from the ocean by a large island, Stradbroke Island, it does not have a beachfront. Instead, it has a very still swamp-like coastline. Manly is as a result a small village where people like to fish and boat instead of swim and surf. It seemed pretty cute to me, and I enjoyed walking along through its mangroves and learning about its biosystem. Darcy said, it's no Byron Bay. And I said, it doesn't have to be. Everything doesn't have to be a beach. Swamps are important too. So are deserts and mountains and the rest. Here in Brisbane, a lot of people have come from Sydney and Melbourne and other coastal places because the place is booming and housing is more affordable. But then there is a frustration that it is on a river and there is no beach. It is the only major city here that doesn't have beach. Canberra is inland but I don't think it counts as a major city. People wish this place was more like the place they came from, I think. I understand. It's hard to accept things as they are, and like them for what they are when we cling to what we once had, or what we once were.

The World Cup has been fun to follow, but I often am just catching up to it the next day. Because of the time difference, live matches don't begin until 11:00pm our time, and then end at about 7am. I have become a real early bird, and can't seem to stay awake. Friday night I gave it a real try, but by 11:05 I was asleep. I woke up and saw little people running around the TV screen and couldn't imagine paying attention. This morning the US had a draw with Italy, and Italy broke the nose of a US player, the striker. So nasty! Team sports can bring out the best in people, but it can also bring out the worst. Everyone is trying to get to the next round, and the group that the US is in is a tough one. Next week will be intense.

Today is Sunday. I hope we are going to take a ferry ride, and see an area of Brisbane I have not been to yet, Teneriffe. The sky is overcast, and if we are lucky it will rain buckets. We need it. Brisbane is experiencing a drought. Its reservoir is below 30%. People are not allowed to use their hoses. It doesn't affect us, because we live in an apartment building and don't hose stuff, but I am absolutely tired of sunny days. Please rain.

That tree in the photo is some freak deciduous tree that someone planted in their backyard. I have been staring at its beautiful foliage for the past 3 weeks as I do the dishes. I have seen Darcy staring at it too. The other day when I was loading some photos off the camera, I discovered that we both had taken pictures of it.

Hooray

We have an interview with Immigration a week from Friday. Finally finally finally hooray relief so glad now nervous but happy that change is on the way.

These days bleed into each other, and more than day and night, I see them in terms of upswings and downswings. Just little hills with sun peeking up behind them, or drops into darkness. I only hope that it is a temporary experience, and a CALL from IMMIGRATION will level things out.

I've been doing stuff though, don't you worry about that. Walking and biking and swimming. I have been swimming 2 times at the Olympic-sized pool at the end of our street. It is part of a private girls' school, but it is open to the public as well. For 3.70AUD you can swim there all day. There is also a gym, and courts of some kind, squash or netball or something. I haven't done laps since I was maybe 9 or 10, so I took it easy at first. But man, is it fun. The first visit I swam 7 laps, and the second I swam 11. Darcy likes to count one length as a lap, but I think it is back and forth that is a lap, right? It is nice to be in a pool, wearing goggles. It's sunny, and the pool is outside, so I am getting a tan from it on both sides! The sun is so strong that the reflection from the bottom of the pool bounces up and is enough to tan me, even if I have been swimming only 45 minutes. This last visit, I finally got a rhythm going with my breath and my kicking and my arms, and started figuring out how to hold and move my head to exert the least amount of energy breathing. Pretty exciting. I stayed in a little while - over an hour, I think, and when I got out, I realised how tired I was. It was nice to put another form of exercise in the mix, though I can't say it's all making me lean and mean. I am still the same, and have now discovered an evil English cookie that will foil all plans for fitness and weight loss: Hob Nobs. These cookies are too much! Oat cookies with milk chocolate topping. Jesus.

One day earlier this week, Darcy and I went into the CBD for lunch. He needed a day off. Work is spinning out of control, and the thought of another month of full on jobs is doing him in. We went into the CBD, ate some lunch, and looked around. On our way home, we walked down the river, and at the little stadium on the South side free swing lessons were being held! We took them. It was really fun, though, most of the men were not too good. The women had to rotate, and you were forced to dance with all kinds of blokes. Everyone was good natured though. I danced with a few men who said they had never danced before. I danced with one guy who was tall and had long hair and long sideburns and seemed a little awkward, but sweet. I asked him if he had ever danced before and he said. "no - well, sometimes we make up funny dances at work." That made me laugh really hard, but he didn't laugh with me.

Anyway, it was fun, and my only grief was that I never got to dance with Darcy. When we got home, we gave it a go, and he was good!

That night, I woke up with burning knees. All the walking and dancing on pavement and perhaps crazy kicking in the pool really stressed them. Only now, a few days later, are they feeling okay.

Yesterday I bought a DVD of the first episode of The Golden Girls. I know! I don't care! Think what you will! Yesterday I had to weave at home in the afternoon, and was feeling blue when I woke up and I walked into the CBD to the bookstore and there was the DVD, on sale no less. I decided not to think and just to buy. I got to watch 2 episodes before Darcy came back and reclaimed his computer. I watched the first episode, where Blanche almost marries a polygamist, and the third episode where Rose starts a relationship with a man, her first since her husband died 15 years before. What little gems those shows are. I don't care what anybody says.

The World Cup starts tonight. The first game, Germany vs. Costa Rica, begins at midnight our time. This next month will be sleepless one, to be sure. I enjoy watching the World Cup, but I am done hearing all the speculations and history of players and blah blah blah. Get on with the game already!

The neighbor downstairs is BLASTING 80's new wave music. Before it was the song "Electric Dreams." Now, it's something by the Sex Pistols, I can't figure out which one. They all sound the same to be honest. I think he's getting rocked up to go to the pub. It's Friday night, which means it's time to rock.

Dave Chappelle's Block Party

Last night I had the good fortune to see Dave Chappelle's Block Party. Seeings how I'm living Down Under, movies can come here later than in the States, this may be a late suggestion. But I highly suggest you go see this film, if you like hip hop or rap music at all - in the slightest. You will love this film. the music is so good! And the people are great. It made me miss NYC, of course, though I never lived in BedStuy and did not live the African American experience. Dave Chappelle is very funny too, of course. It was directed by Michel Gondry, but you wouldn't know it - it's pretty simply put together. He just got some great footage of people doing their thing, is all.

Last Monday I had my health check at Immigration. Everything is fine, as far as I could read on the doctor's face. Perhaps I will be given an appointment soon, now that this is over. It has been over 3 months now. I really want to get back to work.

I have had to adjust to using the metric system. I am almost there. Of course, the metric system is very clean and easy to figure out, but it is more the judgment factor. If someone tells me something is 80 centimeters, can I quickly see in my mind how long that is? Or if someone tells me they lost 5 kilograms, can I say - "wow,you lost a lot of weight! It shows!" Or "You are off to a good start - keep it up!"

The Kilograms I am comfortable with now, and meters I am comfortable with. Darcy works in millimeters, however. He will tell me to stop weaving something at 750 mil, and he can just eyeball that almost perfectly. I have to convert that to centimeters, then inches sometimes, and then judge. I am accurate maybe 70% of the time.

I also have to get used to Celsius. Converting it to Fahrenheit in my head every time is annoying, so I am trying to take it on its own terms. I now know what 30 Celsius feels like, and 8 Celsius, and everything in between. I have to just put Fahrenheit behind me, and focus on the tools I have now. Right now, it is about 16 degrees Celsius. Cool bordering on chilly. If it was 30 degrees it would be hot.

I also have to take kilometers on their own terms. 10km=6.2 miles. I have been doing the ratio quickly in my head, but I need to just make the mental switch. I like converting though, because then 100km doesn't seem so long.

These are things I thought about this past week, while walking to and from the Immigration office, and in the van that Darcy rented to make some deliveries to Surfers Paradise and Byron Bay. These observations are not interesting to the people I have mentioned them to here, so I guess they are things I should have kept to myself. I don't care. I am having a very foreign feeling as of late, and all I can do is keep pressing on, and trust that it will change in time. I can't keep making up things to talk about to put people at ease with me.

Darcy & I spent the night in Byron Bay, and then he drove back to Brisbane in the morning, and I stayed on another day, as I was invited to climb Mt. Warning with our friend Pene and a few other people. It was beautiful! We got up at 5:30 and hit the road maybe by 7, and were on the trail at 8. Mt. Warning is 1100 meters high, so it is not the tallest mountain, but it is a mountain. It was named Mt. Warning by Captain Cook, as it was a lookout to warn ships of reefs when entering the bay. Mt. Warning is an hour drive from the bay, but on a clear day you can see to the ocean very easily.

The forest here is full of eucalyptus and other types that I can't remember the names of, and lots of things that look like trees but are really these parasitic vines that wrap around a tree and feed off its nutrients and basically take it over. The hike up is on a well made path, so it is not hard to do. It is only when you get to the last part that it gets difficult. Suddenly, the tree line is gone, and there is only this tough grass and rock. We had to climb up a steep wall of rock that had a chain guide bolted into it. That made me a little nervous, but it was not too bad in the end. Once at the top, there is a little observation deck where you can sit. I climbed up with 3 other people: Pene, Carrie, and Alan. We brought tea and oranges and cookies, so once up there we had a little snack. There were only a few people up there with us, which was good, as the summit is small. What a view! I could see past Byron Bay, and up past Surfers Paradise, and almost up to Brisbane, I think. The East side of the mountain was in the shadow, and was very windy, so I only spent a few minutes there. The view was great there too but I was cold.

There was an older couple there, in their 60's I think, and they were part of some retirement group that had come down from Bundaberg to do the climb. Bundaberg is north of Brisbane, I don't know how far. They are retired sugar cane farmers. The woman had done the climb the day before and dragged her husband up on this particular day. They were such a cute pair. So chatty and friendly and made us laugh a lot. They told us that the rest of the group, who were still on their way up, didn't know, but it was the couple's 39th wedding anniversary. So great! And they obviously were still happy to be together. On our way down, we passed their group, who also told us that the husband had recently had successful surgery for his prostate. What a pair. Pretty fit.

It was good to spend some time with people away from Darcy, and get to know people on my own terms, to some degree. When we are in Byron Bay together, my husband is the toast of the town, saying hi to every other person on the street, seeing a million friends who all want to catch up with him and chat, and whenever we go down there, there always seem to be parties every night, and he is off circulating and reminiscing, and I often feel like I am in the shadows, trying very hard to join in, but unable because I have no history with anyone, or this place.

It wasn't like that too much this time, though I may never be able to say much to people in Byron Bay, since I don't live there. They do a lot of gossiping about each other and other people in town, and I can't contribute to that, beyond saying things like,"oh no, that's terrible!" or "She sounds crazy" or "When did you go out with him?" and so on. It makes me feel out of balance, and I wish I could just be someplace else. When I am in a party situation, I feel this way. But when it is just a few people, I can often have moments of being fine. The climb I did with Pene and Alan and Carrie was really good, because I shared an experience with them, and we didn't always have to talk. We could just hike, and look around, and simply be. And it created some familiarity, and history between us.

It sounds silly, but I miss making people laugh, and I miss feeling normal. I am in that oh-so-destructive mode where I compare myself to everyone, and put myself down for not being more this or that. It is hard not to when I am surrounded by people who are laughing and talking and flirting and gossiping with each other all the time, and my husband is one of them. I miss being in a group of people and not even worrying about having things to talk about - just joking around, playing games, listening to music, eating good food - the way you feel with friends. I have put myself in a situation where it seems that this will be a long and difficult thing to achieve.

I need to be mindful of being hard on myself. Things develop in their own time, provided you nuture them. I don't know what to nurture at the moment though, beyond myself. So, I will eat healthy, drink less alcohol and more water, and read more books. And wait for that call from Immigration, telling me they like me.