Petit Poisson!!

After getting over my trepidation this morning I've had a rather productive Brisbane day. 

For starters the weather was divine - a definite vibe to the breeze. At 27 degrees on 31 July, Winter in this city is a joke. Spring is upon us. I've been wearing my Lanvin sandals around all day and revelling in their divinity on my feet. 


But I've also felt still a little...discombobulated...? Mum must have picked up on it because after mincing around her ankles at her open house and running errands with her at the pet store she offered to get me an aquarium for the Riffe Pad. 

"My guys" are Siamese Crown Fighters, we got three vivid blue boys for a tank with three components in it so they aren't alone (but aren't killing each other either!). Heaven forbid. I wouldn't wish loneliness on even a fishie. 


So now I have my very own Petit Poisson Posse!! They are beautiful and create amazing chi, always moving. And they are my buddies. They will be here to welcome me home in the afternoons. They will fan their fins at me in the mornings. They won't let me down. They won't not text back. They'll be here with me on a Saturday night in. 


Welcome little guys. Im so pleased to have you in my life. 


And thanks to mama bear. x

A massive weekend is stretching out before me. Massive not in the party sense, rather in the fact that I'm not entirely sure what to do with my time. 


Terror strikes me. Get the urge to call mum to follow her around at open houses. 


Then I pull myself together and realise it's a beautiful day outside and I should get my asssss out there and live it. 

Leaving the bar. 


Alone. 


Walking to the bus station in the Louboutins.


Alone. 


Travel on the bus and get harassed by a poor young girl off her tits asking me if her earrings go with her outfit and where is the stop for the Valley.


Still, alone. 


Flatty watches a movie, down two microwaved-from-frozen chicko rolls. Yum. But fear of what it's now doing to my guts. And thighs for that matter.


Shower, bed, mac. Twilight. 


My Friday night. 


Sometimes the loneliness feels like it's going to stretch on forever. 


Something has to give. Doesn't it?

Friday 9:30am

This morning I'm incredibly destracted. My mind kinda feels like it has a foggy cloud surrounding it, like the fog blocking my office view of Brisbane city this morning. It's prevented air traffic along the East Coast of Australia, no planes landing, no planes taking off. Like my mind.

If anyone from work was reading my blog today they would dob. I'm being entirely unproductive and simply don't want to focus my mind on work, preferring rather to talk feng shui with my mum. Metallic bell - Check. Quartz crystals - Check. 5 element pagoda - Check.

I'm wearing a leopard print dress which is utterly cute and so Frenchy so Chic, but because I'm in a dubious mood I'm thinking that I might have worn the wrong thing today. Why? I don't know.

I also put out house warming invites last night to find this morning that there is something else on that night I would have liked to have gone to. SHIT.

Why is this stuff getting to me? I don't know.

Maybe I just need to take some salmon oil tabs and calm the fuck down.

Things I love....

Deliveries at work....

Golf Goss

So as mentioned I went to Vic Park last night to bash some balls and let me tell you, I was on form. My swing was good, with minimal inconsistency.

I was at the training end of the range, where the ameteurs were practising and unbeknownst to me I was being watched. I was approached when I went to leave and was looking at clubs to purchase and I got to talking with one of the pros who was astounded by how well I was hitting with my 'dinosaur' clubs. I stole these from dad and they must be about 20 years old, they weigh a tonne, they're built for a man, they are stiff and the grip is apparently too large (and falling apart). So I've been making things a lot harder for myself.


Needless to say he said I had a natural flair, a nice swing and that I should attend some supervised hitting sessions so that I can get instructed properly.


Booked for Monday 7pm and I'm really looking forward to it!

The Range

When I'm in dire need of escape I go and bash balls.


At the local driving range.


Golf.


There is something uniquely satisfying about hitting balls off a balcony out into the middle of a field. To me anyway. I buy my $14 bucket-o-balls and bash to my heart's content. Sometimes I'll hit one square on and it will be a thing of beauty - the connection of club and ball is smooth and the follow through swing is easy. The ball sails almost effortlessly into the lit up night air.


I'm going tonight because I have had enough of today.

Tiredness

Again I've returned from Blackwater with naught but tiredness. It really takes it out of me. There are no 'lunch breaks' when I can go out and take a breath of fresh air and stretch the legs. There is severely limited access to anything on the internet - no fb, no shopping sites - drastic. It's simply head down, working hard from 7am till 6pm with no reprise. They are long, trying days.


I get home of an afternoon and head straight to the mess to have some dinner, then I walk around the block twice, then home to collapse on my bed and pass out. And that's it.


I'm still sore from my two hour expedition from Site to Blackwater. I couldn't walk the next day. Literally I'd pinched nerves in my hips or something and was hobbling for the next three days. Tragic.


Wa wa wa

Open Road

I'm fairly sure my work colleague just tried to kill me. She suggested a walk all the way from site into Blackwater town on the special walkway through a paddock for mine employees. Of course I jumped at the opportunity and was all prepped with my running gear, always looking the part.


She'd warned me that it usually takes an hour and fifteen when she gets dropped at the entrance to the path. This time though, we were lucky (?) and had to walk literally from the admin building to her house where my car is parked. It took us TWO HOURS and we even ran for about 25mins of that. I am completely and utterly stiff and exhausted. I also thought I was fit. Ha. Ha.


Needless to say, we did get to see a lot of country side (we crossed half of Central Queensland for shits sake), have some bonding time and see the incredible sunset out in the middle of nowhere and if we weren't so busy hustling back home before dark I would have loved to just stand there and breathe. But we were on a serious mission and the opportunity didn't come.


Also I ran up 15 flights of stairs today to get to the top of the wash plant. The view was spectacular so it was worth the super athleticism it conjured in me but all things considered, I'm completely beat.

 View from the top of the CHPP (Wash Plant)

I'm waiting for the world of pain to hit me in a day or so....

Blackwater again

There are three redeeming qualities of Blackwater:

1.  The sunrises and sunsets. They are truly delicious - you can drink them in. There are no buildings to interrupt the sweeping colour layers.

2. The stars. When the colour layers eventually fade to dark blue the stars sparkle their beauty. The sky is jam packed with them.

3. The incredible smell. The air is so fresh and laden with the earthy scents of the buffalo grass and bush trees. I have to stop myself having 'Genouille-esque' moments taking in huge swigs of air to fill my lungs and my body with the scent. Its magical somehow. I get such a rush from it.

ZARA in OZ!!!

You guys, news has broken that my fave of fave, love of loves, ZARA is swimming its way to our shores and will, unlike the boatloads of illegal immigrants, be welcomed with open arms!

The Spanish super store promises to have new looks to consumers within two weeks of the trend being released and has grown exponentially in 2008/09 and into this year. Originally focusing on markets in Asian regions, it's now set sights on a multi-storey possie opposite what is now the Apple flagship store in Sydney's George Street.

More than half of my wardrobe is Zara - I was a wild woman there; retail ecstasy being able to get the latest and chicest looks for a lot less and in real time!

Witchery - watch your back! Zara's coming to town and I'm checking flights to Sydney already...

Old wheels v New Wheels

I love my new wheels so much - it provides me freedom like I've never known before, a different, local, irresponsible freedom. But, I used to ride something quite different.

And before you have to rescue your mind from the gutter, I used to ride a motorbike. For fun. I loved it. It was freedom but it scared the shit out of me. Each ride would mean geeing myself up, getting focused, no hangovers, leathered to the eyeballs, shoei helmet, plaited hair, ride path planning, warming engines, warming tyres, filling tanks, checking breaks, and making it out of our steep driveway, all before 6:30am on a Sunday morning.

Crispin

My dad on his Ducati, me on my Honda VFR 400, sometimes mum on her Ducati, would ride out through Dayboro, Woodford, Malaney and the Sunshine Coast hinterland, stop and have an omelette admire the glasshouse mountains view, then ride all the way back, returning to the homestead around 12:30pm. It was a big day and took a lot out of me. But for those few hours riding I was completely focused on one thing only, the white line in the middle of the road. Always a point just beyond the next corner. My body and the bike were one mean speed machine, crouching low, leaning into corners.

I haven't ridden for a while. For various reasons, not least of which its a bloody dangerous high risk hobby that is fun in an adrenaline pumping way rather than a relaxation exercise, but also Crispin isn't registered at the moment. Yes, Crispin is my other bike. We had many adventures together. And I'm hoping that I can get the registration happening and get back on the track to have more.

Possibly more on this to come....

Qantas Calling

Dear Qantas,

Thanks very much for calling me at 8:45am, as I was getting out of my cab to check in, to let me know that my 9:30am flight would be delayed, TWO HOURS. Thanks also for leaving a toll number to call back on. Oh and thanks also for the silly mole at baggage check not knowing anything about anything.

Sitting at the airport on a Monday morning is not what I had in mind and had I known I could have been in bed still!!

The only thing saving your sorry assss is that I am doing some much needed blogging catch up and internet trawling.

Hmff.

______________________________________

Dear Universe, 

OK OK. I get it. Your way or the highway. 

Double Hmff. 

Mid July Sunday in Visual

Fresh

Sleeping

Mates

Wedding in the background!

My wheels

Gossip

Sunday

Day two in the park, Sunday.

Checkered green shorts, white singlet. The sun is incredibly warm - without the regular humidity of summer. So very pleasant. Though I do feel sorry for the other park goers having to shield their poor retinas from my neon white anglo-saxon skin. The sky is completely cloudless, the moon is still out at 11:30am. A percussion band begins it's beats in the rotunda and capoweira follows in front of me.

Earthy smells of grass whip around on the breeze; sneaky scents of BBQ rissoles making me hungry.

I lie with my jumper over my face, the sun soaking deep into my bones when I hear a "well hello!" the voice of the Knight. The funniest thing is that five minutes before he came over I knew he would. I'm not sure whether that was simply wishful thinking or whether I'm tuning in to his vibes. But it was nice, organic. We sat for another few hours, soaking up the warmth, marvelling at the 'winter' and talking universe.

Saturday morning that was

Picture this: Black riding boots, black and white stripy T, black leggings, red beret, rad bike (of course!) an apple, a patchwork quilt, an empty sun drenched park. This is my Saturday morning.

Having been rejected by my flatmate (he was too busy to have a drink with me last night...? WTF) the realisation dawned on me - the universe wants me to look inward. More so than ever. At first it was disguised as rejection, then morphed into utter loneliness, then a message: use this time to practice and be ok with being on your own.

After London I thought I would have learnt this lesson by now. But it seems I haven't. Because I find myself in a place, again, where I am forced to spend time alone. Maybe forced is the wrong word. But like it or not, I'm sat in New Farm Park at 10:30 am on a Saturday morning contemplating life, alone.

Then a group of people to my left, downfield, commence raucous laughter. It reaches a crescendo, they do three whoops, two chirps and then form a circle, raising their hands to the sky, and begin the raucous laughter again. Now they are jiggling their bodies and laughing some more. This is the laughing group of Brisbane. They do it on the regular. It's infectious so makes me laugh too.

Ants weave their way through their grassy world just beyond my quilt, my hair is blowing in a gentle breeze, the city cat deposits another fleet of families with prams and all the bells and whistles - like little pack horses.

I move my quilt for the second time, to a position drenched in sunlight - away from the stealthy creeping shade of the figs.

A man has just parked his bike and himself on the ground a little way from me and he begins to eat his purchase from the local bakery and looks up when the Laughers begin their cackle, confused.

Some heavy set Islander types roll up, guitar in hand. I hope they settle close to me so I can hear them play.

Laughers are whooping now - hee hee he hoo he hoo he hoo hee hee, competing with the crows.

A tiny bird plops down beside me and begins to drink the spilt chai latte in my basket's weave (bumps aren't good for transportation of hot drinks - go figure).

Park sitting became a favourite past time of mine in London - it's flowed over into my Brisbane life. Now I can't get enough of it. And though it is mid Winter, we are out in singlets in the sun.

Total Eclipse of the Heart

I have a confession to make.

I'm scared of going to see Eclipse for fear that I will see it and be so overcome with mad passion for Edward Cullen that I will leave the cinema with the horrid reality of only being in a cinema watching a fantasy world and a man/vampire who doesn't exist and even though his real life persona is well and truly alive, that I will never even come close to him. I can feel the despair and depression rising in my gut as I type.

It's silly. But that's where I am right now. Desperate for some masculinity in my life that doesn't include my diminutive, grunting, Melbourne chipped flat mate or moronic yobs lurking around in high viz.

Woe.

Things I hate: WARNING I'm in a bad mood

I CANNOT STAND cabs in this city. Every one of them stinks and after being in a feral hire car for three days (obviously the last hirer was smoking like a chimney and hadn't showered for a week) I am truly OVER smelly cabbies.

Furthermore, why should I have to negotiate my way home? Surely Brisbane isn't that hard to navigate if your previous city was a maze of shanty town madness? And surely if you've managed to get your sorry arse here by canoe or elephant or foot or whatever, and get yourself a job driving a cab you can sure as hell learn English!!! Did I ask for a tour of Brisbane? NO! I wanted what is usually a 20min drive from airport to Alderley. FUCK

You guys, the cabbie sitcho in Brissie is disastrous.


Screw this - I'm getting a private car and driver next time. At least I'll be able to breathe.

Rrrrrra

Three days in Blackwater

Back from the brink - again...

"Parked Up" - Dragline Shutdown

This is what hit me when I walked into the new mess.....why must you test me like this Universe!!?

My mug. What? I love my green tea and honestly, what dude is going to steal that? 

Very Blackwater. 

Incredible sunsets

God's finger nail. 

Things I hate grrrhh

PARKING FUCKING TICKETS

I am completely allergic to them. When I see that hideous little white strip of paper fluttering jeeringly at me from Beany's dashboard waves of angry heat begin rolling through my body, my forehead tenses up, my eyes narrow, my teeth gnash producing a vampire-esque snarl.

Last night I got not one, but two parking tickets outside my place. $150 down the goddamned drain that is the State revenue. Please people, lets devote our time and money to busting real crime - drug lords, murderers and rapists. What about rescuing puppies from evil puppy farms, or providing for young disabled people who have no choice but to live in old people's homes? For what it's worth I would be happy if I knew my $150 fine for doing nothing more than parking outside my home was going to these causes. But I know it isn't.

And since when did parking tickets become so expensive!?

Now I have to wait 3 weeks while my permit application is processed. Great.

FRUSTRATIOOOONNN

Calm down, breathe.

Whiteboard Wit

This is something my dad would say.

Sunday in script

I was excited this morning; a true sense of anticipation. It was a beautiful blue sky outside and I played Feist tunes while I drank my green tea and painted my toenails in watermelon pink.

I met the Knight (the Sherpa's Brother) under a tree in New Farm park at 10:30am, as planned, he with his skateboard, me with my rad wheels. I unfurled my patchwork quilt and we sat and began what I hope will be the first of many sessions in awareness training.

The concepts are difficult, the practicing even harder. How do you describe the feeling of the expansion of your energy? How do you guide someone to feel or sense something that they've never been able to identify before? How do you explain colour to a blind person? How do you describe a sensation like hot or cold? This is what the Knight is attempting to show me. It is no small task.

Most importantly the Knight is explaining the importance of letting go of trying to control everything as it creates blockages. This more than anything is a big learning for me. Recently I've been receiving a lot of messages from the universe telling me to quit trying to control things. The very act of trying means that I am unsuccessful in that quest to begin with. And, to a large extent I believe that there is a grand plan for each of us and the universe will put us on our path when we relax and let the flow of life wash over us.

I know it sounds slightly mental but this is self actualisation in written form.

The Knight is an 80 year old in a 24 year old's body, and it's strange to see the two in action.

We spent the entire day together. Smelling roses, climbing trees (he did the climbing, those trees in New Farm are bloody huuuuge) eating fish and chips, chatting, laughing at crazy children, seeking shelter from the afternoon rain and smiling.

It was a sumptuous day with a stranger friend.

The Weekend in Visuals

I've had an amazing weekend. Full of friends, purchases, fine wine, Brisbane sites, discovery and adventure.

It goes a little something like this:

My new wheels!!

Ron Muek at GOMA

Gross

My favourite art piece - I'm replicating this in the new Riffe pad

Windmill

Modern Lines

Chilli and Lime (dinner thanks to Sis and Sars)

Picnic rug

Wintery

New Farm Roses - photos don't convey their delicate scent

Beauty

Camouflage 

Wary

Hmm

I've never missed a stranger before. 

I find myself pondering Sunday, to the soundtrack of Angus & Julia, hoping that it will arrive soon....

Universal Shift

I returned last night to my meditation group after four long, hectic, rollercoaster weeks. And boy did I need it. Generally I'm the one in the circle that's squirming by half time, shifting around, joints cracking, limbs needing stretching, accidentally brushing people beside me. But last night I must have really needed the therapy because I wanted to stay longer in that place. Very soft light, very quiet. Such a beautiful peaceful place inside myself, feeding off the energy in the room.

It became clear to me afterward that I had meant to go last night to meet the Sherpa's brother. Instantly he gravitated toward me and we started to talk about universal shift and how to connect or tune into this energy. We stayed back after the session, me asking a squillion questions, he answering them with the things I needed to hear. He showed me how to channel my energy in my hands and how to direct it into his. He demonstrated that everything is a vibrational energy and therefore we are everything, we are all connected in this way. My mind is still grasping at that notion. But my heart already knows it.

Two hours later we smiled and hugged, acknowledging another universal shift.

We are meeting under a tree in the park on Sunday to talk more Universe.

Discombobulated

I'm totally spent. Dusty like the desert with no juicy posts to bear. This is how I feel at the moment. Completely drained of my once vigorous enthusiasm for writing on this blog.

It might be the move into the Riffe pad. I know this about myself. Give me two weeks and I'll be right as rain anywhere, but for those initial couple of weeks I'm in all sorts.

It might be the fact that I have encountered my first real life bully at work (and she's a right bitch too).

It might be because tensions are running incredibly high at work because of the right Bitch.

It might be that I drank enough champagne on the weekend to last me a year and that I'm still clawing my way out of the resulting champers coma even four days later.

It might be because I feel slightly conscious that Flattie may be peeping in on my musings. The adjustment to living with a dude is distracting.

It might be that I've been having ridiculous, but fanciful, dreams about London, about being a werewolf on the run in wolf form with 795 quid Harrods gift cards to get me through and my grandad opening up a can of Korean war vet whoop ass on my pathetic ex boyfriend.

All I know for sure is that I'm tired. Real tired.

I also know that this moment has passed, and I already feel better about offloading it.

*sigh* Night.

Moving Mayhem

I'm sorry for my absenteeism you guys but its truly been a crazy five days. Settling into the new pad has been fun, daunting, tiring, strange and familiar all at once. Sleeping in till 7am is my indication that I'm not myself. Yet, lots of things to report so as soon as my internet is up and running at home I will commence broadcasting from the 'Riffe'.

Oh and by the way....

HAPPY EOFYS EVERYBODY

The Last Night

Tonight is my last night in Hotel Parentals. At least for now. I have a knack of finding my way back here on the regular.

It's always the way when you move that you end up with so much more shit than you originally anticipated. I'm currently surrounded by bags and suitcases and garbage bags and piles of stuff. Thank Geebas I'm only moving suburbs. I can't fathom how I managed to pack up my whole life and then move to London with naught but a suitcase (which incidentally I could fit my 5'10 frame into), and then pack up London and move back here to Brisbane! Shouldn't I get a medal for that or something?

So now, without further ado, I hereby sign off from the L Suite. Regular broadcasting will continue from the plush surrounds of 'the Riffe' pad (name tbd) likely featuring Chuck the Flattie.

So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, good night.