Wrong Turns in all the Right Places

Oh dear. I am sitting at the Customs House library having a meltdown. Well not exactly a meltdown, but that’s probably what it looks like to the two people sitting on the other sides of me. They’ve got to be thinking, “Damn, why did I have to sit next to the crazy lady.” My nose is dripping and I keep wiping at my eyes. I try to avoid crying in public at all costs, because by all means it isn‘t pretty-but lately, the past couple years, I can have short, sobbing outbursts pretty much anywhere, anytime. They’ve hit me while standing on busy street corners, on long walks, and even during a sunny afternoon eating ice cream with a friend. It seems as if I have so much pent up emotions in me that are lingering under the surface, ready to burst out. Because crying all the time is unacceptable and embarrassing, not to mention slightly unattractive, I’ve found that running on a treadmill until I feel like I might have a heart attack also helps keep my emotions under control-- although I’m not so sure what it does to my heart. Anyway, there’s actually a legitimate reason for my tears today. I’m attempting to write some short essays about some experiences in my life. Today I started an outline and rough draft about a past love. I’ve found writing about my past to be therapeutic. It’s hard to bite the bullet and tackle the issues, but once I start, I have found my thoughts flow easily, and my fingers can’t hit the keys fast enough. I look forward to finishing these essays, and I hope to someday share them with others.

Saturday was Fourth of July, and although I am halfway across the world, I still rocked out American-style. I live with two other American guys, so we made sure were celebrated properly. My flat mates and I made a mass amount of food and drank beer all day-- you can’t get much more American than that. I made my first apple pie, which surprisingly turned out fabulous, considering after a couple glasses of wine I started getting tipsy and stopped measuring the ingredients. I think I have found a small flame of passion flickering in me for cooking. Julia Childs didn’t even start cooking until she was 30, and I’m only just about to turn 24. And that’s another blog post, about how I am approaching another birthday in a few weeks.

Hasta pasta-

P.S.- Later on I realized another reason why I was a bit emotional today. It is my mom’s birthday. She would have been 58. Although I feel I have let the general sadness go, and have let her go, to what I believe is heaven, sometimes in my subconscious I just tend to feel connected to her. Today, on her birthday ,there was one of those connections- sometimes they are hard to read, and I don’t know what to make of them, but I best can explain them as times where I know she is with me.

I've been an excercise machine since I've been in Sydney; part of it has to do with me being slightly obsessive and paranoid, fearing that if I miss a workout I will suddenly turn into a Goodyear blimp, and the other part has to do with all the bike and walking paths in the city and surrounding suburbs.

I believe a walk or jog outside is one of the best ways to get to know a city. Pub crawls are also a good way to get to know a city and its respectable inhabitants, but one tends to lose their money and sometimes their dignity on these, not that I would know. So this morning, because I wanted to explore the city and flex my newly defined calves, and 9 am was too early to throw back pints of beer, I decided on a long walk through the suburb, or "village" next to mine.

I live in Ultimo, which is considered "inner" Sydney. Ultimo borders the central business district of Sydney on the west side. The buildings in the area are a mix of apartments and small businesses. Most of the buildings are no higher than 3 or 4 stories, with the exception of some TAFE University buildings and the Australian Broadcasting Company complex located down the street from my flat.

The village behind me, moving away from the city, is Glebe. This is where I took my morning jaunt in my very American workout ensemble consisting of Nike trainers, black running capris, a sweatshirt and my favorite beat-up Red Sox baseball hat (thanks Phil.) Anyway, walking down the main street of Glebe I looked a little out of place in my all-American girl gear, but I didn't care as I was looking at all the amazing architecture and unique shops. Glebe is home to a lot of university students, as it is close to two of Sydney's universities. It also has an arsty-fartsy, bohemian vibe, which I absolutely love- reminds me a bit of Athens, Ohio. Peppered among all of Glebe's cafes, organic bakeries, massage and acupuncture shops are beautiful, French colonial-style apartments and houses. I adore this type of architecture. The verandas, iron railings with intricate swirl designs and stained glass windows remind me of the deep south in the States, specifically Charleston, South Carolina-- one of my favorite places in the U.S. Seeing the architecture, took me two to places at once- here I was enjoying a stroll through Sydney, and in a moment I was reminded of Charleston and of all the wonderful walks I took in that city. Now that I'm almost on the "sap" train, I must add, it's amazing how much beauty this world holds.

And then, the walk gets even better. The road I was walking down dead ends at a waterfront park. From this spot, I was looking at the Anzac Bridge, with the Harbour Bridge in the background, and the city and bays sprawled around them. The view was spectacular, and I was having one of those moments where I wished I was one of those people that carried their camera around their neck like an oversized dog collar. But unfortunately for me, I am not one of those people, and my camera died from sand exposure in Fiji two weeks ago anyway. So, I took a mental snapshop, continued on the waterfront path back to my flat, and a very cute guy walking his very cute dog passed me and flashed a George Clooney-esque smile and gave me a head nod. Not a bad way to start a Friday morning.

Once again, it has been a while since I’ve last written. I don’t know why I now find it so hard to sit down and write. Although I’ve been reading a lot lately, I feel as though my brain has been lazy since I’ve been done with school.

I’ve been back in Sydney for about 2 weeks from my trip to Fiji. Fiji was a success, and I have been mourning it since being back in rainy Sydney. My friend and I island hopped the Yasawa Islands for 7 days, and we stayed on the main island, Viti Levu for 3 days.

The Yasawa’s were idyllic. The water was crystal clear, the people were friendly and the majority of the days were sunny and warm. I had no complaints. We stayed on 5 islands in the Yasawa chain. Our first day island hopping we took a 5 hour boat ride from the main land to the most northern island, and then traveled south for the duration of the trip.

Most of the resorts we stayed at on the islands were very basic and catered to a younger backpacking crowd. I would have loved for all my boyfriends who have ever called me high maintenance to have seen me in Fiji. I went 10 days with no makeup, showered in stalls with no warm water, changed my clothes in the middle of fields and lived with only a couple hours of electricity a day. I went seven days without checking my email, and 10 days without using a phone. I am now hooked, and I want to move to Fiji, avoid life, and sit in a hammock everyday.

For anyone planning on visiting Fiji, I would recommend spending as little time in Nadi as possible. Most people fly into Nadi or Suva on the main island of Viti Levu. Nadi is a poor city, the main business district is crowded and polluted, and the beaches are trash ridden.

That’s all my brain can handle for now. It’s been raining in Sydney for the past 3 days. All is well for the most part. I have a couple new flat mates who are cool. Last weekend, I had a lovely boozy lunch at an up-market restaurant at Circular Quay with views of the opera house. Also saw the light show on the opera house last week, and had a drink at Opera Bar. It was definitely worthwhile venturing out in the cold to see the light display and enjoy the swanky atmosphere of the bar.

Craving Tim Tams. They are Australian chocolate covered wafer cookies that I believe have crack in them. Must resist, will need to wear bikini again in Thailand.

Hasta Luego---

Well, as many people may know, I tend to make quite impulsive and spontaneous decisions (how else did those ten pairs of stilettos that I have never worn end up in my closet?) But, this time, I believe I have made one of the best spur-of-the-moment decisions thus far, I booked a trip to Fiji two days ago. In approximately one hour I will be heading to Sydney's International airport with one of my former flat mates from Cali. After waiting around and buying tabloid magazines and fattening candy, which will help me look my best in my bikini, ha, we will be boarding a flight to paradise. After a four-ish hour flight, I will be in paradise, possibly with a Pina Colada in hand, and happy-- that is, if all goes well.

We are island hopping the Yasawa Islands, and if I don't take up permanent residence in Fiji, I should be back in Sydney June 5th. Until then, hope all is well, and look forward to some stunning photos and my fabulous tan.

Cheers!

Melbourne is only a short hour and half flight south west of Sydney, yet the differences between the cities cannot go unnoticed. I went there for a brief two and a half day trip with two flat mates. The flat mates needed to take a break from work and get out of Sydney, and I just needed to experience something new and shake up my daily routine.

Flinders Station

If Sydney is the young, flashy, wild child, whom has a penchant for surfing, Melbourne is the mature, refined sibling of the pair. Melbourne’s central business district was well planned. The CBD is a compact rectangle and easy to navigate, yet I never felt claustrophobic, and I never had to body chuck anyone to walk on the sidewalk, which is a daily occurrence on Sydney’s George Street. The two things I appreciated most about Melbourne were 1: the spacious sidewalks, and 2: the architecture.

Melbourne is an architecture and design dream, and it is a growing city so it has room to impress even more. The city has much more of an European feel than Sydney. Many of the city’s buildings have European design elements, such as elaborate façade moldings and gargoyles. The newer buildings are sleek and contemporary, and art seems to be an integral part of the structures.

The up market city is known for culture, sport, shopping and nightlife. The scene reminds me of a smaller, cleaner Chicago. If I was older, and had about $8 million more to my name, I would consider living in Melbourne. The city is a playground for those with money to spend; there are gorgeous cafes, bars and designer stores everywhere.

We definitely “did it up” the first night in town. We had a nice meal of steak, and of course wine, at a lovely restaurant overlooking the river. It was a treat eating a nice meal out, as I can barely remember the last time I ate dinner in a restaurant, let alone a nice one with friends. We continued the night at a really cool bar, and then a not so cool one, which we ended up in because we became lost trying to find another bar recommended to us. Because of our high levels of intoxication, we couldn’t find the right bar, but the joint we ended up at had the buck shooting video game. Oh you know, it's the one with the huge orange plastic gun -- the symbol of a classy establishment.

Our final night in the city we went to a rooftop bar overlooking the city, appropriately named Rooftop. I’m a sucker for good atmospheres and outdoor bars, so it proved to be a good way to end the trip and appreciate Melbourne’s beauty.

On a final note, Melbourne has two airports. One is 25 minutes away, the other advertised by Jetstar as Melbourne (Avalon), is 45 minutes away -- we learned this the hard way, having to take a $90+ cab ride into the city from the latter airport.

Appreciating Melbourne's architecture after a couple of drinks