feeling tough...

You guys...

I got my ears pierced today.
Again.

I had them done when I was like, 8, or whatever. Like (almost) every little girl.
Then somewhere along the line (ie: probably about 4 years ago) I couldn't be bothered picking earrings to wear all the time... so I didn't.
Subsequently the holes closed up, and no amount of forceful prodding would get an earring in.
Then the other day, I can't remember exactly what spurred it on- possibly opening my jewelry box for the first time in a year (yep, I clearly accessorise all the time.) and seeing all my Mum's pretty dangly earrings she gave me- a thought began to grow in my head.
And that thought said: "Lady, you are not too much of a wimp to get this done. If you can do it at 8 (or whatever) you can do it at not-quite-25!"
So I researched a bit.
I read that cos I was getting them re-pierced, it'd be a smart idea to go to a 'professional' place.
I rang a tattoo/body-piercing joint near Uni and told them what I wanted.
"Uh... yeah... see... the thing is... we do body piercing. We don't have the stud gun. And like, if we put in a ring on both, it's like.. $70 each... so... you should just go to a chemist. Or something."
So, no 'professional' for me. I rang the local dodgy hairdresser/piercing place in the mall and they told me to come in.
I sat on the little bed chair thing.
"I'm nervous!" I joked. Mostly. Not really- I meant it. I was nervous.
The girl smiled, snapping on latex gloves and disinfecting my ears.
"I always get nervous too, when I pierce myself. You've got really tiny earlobes!!!"
....
Um.
She gets the gun thingie.
BAM!
And the other side.
BAM!
I wince, scrunch up my face.
She looks at me, concerned.
"Are you ok?"
"Yeah, yeah..." I try and shrug off the dwelling pain, and the feeling that my abnormally tiny earlobe had just puffed up to twice its size.

So now I have to keep the little silver star-shaped ones that I chose in for 6 weeks. I tried to pick ones that didn't remind me too much of being an 8 year old child again. They're very demure. I think. Now I'll just pray I don't get some kind of graphically horrible ear infection, maybe try and find some nice sleeper-hoops I can sleep in so that I don't have to have studs jutting into the side of my skull for the rest of my life (this may have been another reason I stopped bothering, come to think of it), and we'll be good to go.

Sorry if I made anyone squeamish. Should have maybe put a warning at the top, hey?

ch-ch-ch-changes.... / in sickness....

Good morning!

So, after little to no prompting, I changed my layout around. I'm a bit obsessive like this. I love changing layouts. Right from when I taught myself HTML back in the day, when it was still relevant, and then taught myself photoshop. I love layouts. So, I've been very restrained this time. I've tried to not go overboard on the colours, here. Usually I'm like PINK AND BLUE AND ORANGE AND GREEN AND PURPLE ALL GO TOGETHER IN A MAGICAL WEBSITE RAINBOW!!!! And it ends up looking like something a kindergarten child vomited up.

So, I was aiming for 'adult' this time. 

I think it worked.

For all of you in readers, come, visit. It's blue, and subdued, and kind of wintery, but not. Do tell me if anything looks weird or if the characters show up in Chinese or anything.

Unless you are Chinese, and translating this. Or something.

In which case, 欢迎.

Apparently. 

Anyhoo. 

I've been ordered by Nic that I'm not to go to School today, even though it's the first week of term and I want to be there, it's ok. 

This is because yesterday I had a headache all day, which at about 4pm turned in to me feeling terrible and wanting to go to sleep. Nic came home, and I was quite chilly, so we turned on the heat and wrapped me in a blanket. When he got back from his run at about 6.30 I was trying to have a nap on the futon. I realise that this is a completely inappropriate time to be having a nap, because if you nap at 6.30 there's no way you can get to sleep at 10, even if you're LTU Postgrads in the Art of Going to Bed Early. Nic came in and I huddled, wrapped in the huge blanket of luxury in front of the heater. Burning on the outside, shivering on the inside. Liken when you cook a sausage on too-high heat and the outside is charcoal and the inside is goo. Right. That was me. 

Clearly, not doing so well.

Nic says:
"Um... are you still cold? It's really hot in here..."

And I'm shivering away.

He does his looking-after-me thing which I think he secretly loves. We have a running in-joke that he's meant to look after me, but he's the one who gets sick all the time. I get random injuries/muscle/joint pains, and he gets catastrophically sick. Well, maybe not that bad. But he does get sick more than me. So he makes me soup from a packet which I eat, even though I'm not hungry, and them some chamomile tea, and then sets me up on the couch with Private Practice. Mallei is at my feet, Mia is passed out on the blanket of luxury, on my lap. I'm cocooned in it. I can feel my face burning, but the rest of me feels cold. On the inside. I watch the show, back and legs aching, then at 8.30, drag myself to bed. I shiver, and cuddle Mallei, who lays in the crook of my stomach- my little spoon. 

I wake up several times drenched in sweat. (Tell me when this gets to be TMI for y'all). 

Feeling much better today, at least.

Part of my problem, I think, is that I work myself into a frenzy.

I'm like: HOLY CRAP I'M GOING TO DIE I HAVE SOME DISEASE THAT'S GOING TO KILL ME.

And then, like Dr. House, try and diagnose myself based on what knowledge I have from medical shows on TV. Which I think makes things worse.

I run through lists of symptoms in my head, studying my internal feelings and body messages with microscopic attention.

Fever, aches, headache (oh god, what if I have a brain tumour? They run in the family), sudden tiredness, loss of appetite, occasional nausea, been drinking water all day and lips still dry.... heart beating really fast! Breath shallow! (as I work myself in a panic)... Oh, maybe that's just me. Scrap the last two. And then I run through the list again... looking for anything else to add. After all, the more symptoms, the more serious, right? 

But I feel better now. So, lord knows. 24 hour fever? The old adage of "sweating out the fever" might actually be true? (research done: apparently it helps fight off an infection. Go figure.)

Anyway, I got a little off topic here from where I started but that's ok. 

Also tomorrow is Saturday, huzzah!

Also, if anyone wants to write to Dr. Mallei for advice, please do. He's a good advice giver.

Also (again), next Tuesday I'll try and remember to do tasty-tuesday. I have a super easy, super tasty and only slightly healthy cobbler recipe. If you're like me and don't know what a cobbler is, it's certainly yummy. 

Let me know what you think of the redesign!

hey there, Bright eyes...

So
In Australia, this was a super-long weekend as we had Anzac day, which meant from Friday-Tuesday, Nic was off work. Huzzah.
As I mentioned, I'd discovered the grants awarded to graduate teachers going to rural areas, and remembered these beautiful little towns up in the mountains, which we decided to go visit for the weekend.

Of course, it being a long weekend, in a town known for its beautiful autumn trees (remember, it's autumn/fall here, and we don't generally have trees that drop their leaves), the place was packed out. Still, we walked around Bright and quickly loved its little cafes, tree-covered hills in the background, quaint shops, and slightly-larger-than-hodunk-town feeling. On the last day, Nic stopped in at the police station to chat with them about the transfer process, if he does end up applying and going through training to be a cop. Apparently the Bright police station is the one that everyone wants to go to, and you could wait years to get posted there. Awesome. It seems strange, since they have to lure teachers there with money incentives, but police are lining up to be posted there. I suppose if you're a cop at a country town, you have a kind of quiet life amongst the mountains, booking people for speeding, not really dealing with much of the 'hard stuff'... where as a teacher, all our teaching courses tend to be metropolitan, we tend to do our rounds in the suburbs, and teaching bored country kids in tiny schools seems harder than maybe a middle-class anglo-saxon school in the 'burbs.
Anyhoo..

Wandilligong Primary School: 28 students.

The first day there we did a lot of driving. Lots of little towns with funny names (Wandilligong, Yakandandah, Tawong, Porepunkah, Stanley). Towns we judged based on the number of pubs they had, or whether they had a large or small supermarket, or none at all. We formulated criteria for prospective future towns we'd like to live in- cafes, mountains, a supermarket, and within a certain distance of the nearest cinema in Wangaratta. We drove away from the mountains to the flat plains just north of the apline area, and although those mountains loomed in the distance (as well as Australian mountains can. Having seen the Pacific Coast range, I refuse to believe anything in Australia can loom quite as well as them), we decided that it was too flat: we wanted to be in amongst it.

Napland.

Naps are best taken with kittens.

I'm tired.
At some time this afternoon, I went and lay on the futon couch in the office with my big blanket of kitten luxury, and fell asleep in about 5 minutes. I say "at some time" because I can't remember when. It was after 2, but before 3.
I woke up, suddenly.
It was like those moments in movies that never actually happen in real life, until they do. Where the main character wakes with a start for some reason and goes: "Where am I!? What day is it!?"
That was me.
It was the phone- Nic was calling.
"Uh... hi..!" I tried to shake the sleep out of my voice.
"Hey... where are you?"
"On the futon..."
"Oh no! Did I wake you up?"
"Um... I think so..."
Seriously.
I couldn't remember first of all where I was, why I was sleeping, or what day it was, and then I couldn't remember if I'd been sleeping at all. The conversation went on. Nic asked what I'd done all day. I looked back in my memory and this is what I saw:
Waking up at 5.30am. Not getting back to sleep. Haze. 5km run (at about midday). Haze. Played a kid's math game for about 30 minutes. Went to futon. It was now 4pm.
"Um... Nothing. I ran."
Seriously. I've been up since 5.30 this morning, and this is what I had to show for my day.
This happens often, people. Days where an hour or two is spent writing an assignment, and an hour is spent doing exercise is reduced into these tiny nuggets, and everything else is like gaps. How can 10 hours pass from Nic going to work to Nic coming home, and I manage to read a chapter in a book, and go for a run?
I find I'm waking up with increasing frequency at 4.30am. Usually the kitten has made a noise somewhere, I guess. I'm that light of a sleeper. Then I realize I'm burning up and I'm covered in sweat (lovely imagery here, you guys) and if I stick my arms, then my legs, then most of my whole self outside of the covers, I freeze in the autumn chill. So I get stuck somewhere between my shoulders and arms being frozen, and everything below that burning up. Ask my forehead though and I'm tepid. That's the scientific test, right? Forehead reveals all. Eventually I manage to fall back asleep. Wake up time proper is 6.30.

And I realize I've just sat here for about 10 minutes staring into space for no reason. I think there's something wrong with me. Maybe I need to go back to the futon.
Any of you out there lose time? I'm sure it's not that uncommon.

kitten conversations...

It's a wet, drizzly day again here in Melbourne. Seems like autumn has finally hit. Bye bye sunshine, hello rugging up. Secretly, I'm a big fan of the colder months? Jackets? Scarves? Gloves? Hats?! Love them. I do love pretty summery dresses, but only for so long. Brightening up my outfit with a scarf brings me joy.
As does not waxing my legs for an obscenely long time because, hey, it's cold, who's going to see my legs anyway!?

Winter is for cuddling on the couch...


This morning Nic got up and snuck out and I'd had a pretty rough morning's sleep between getting a sore back (and various other muscles, thanks exercise), the kitten purring for cuddles, needing to pee, and the kitten scratching in her litter box for 15 minutes as she had a panic attack because she couldn't cover up the smell.
I'm a seriously light sleeper- these things wake me up, and then I have a horrible time getting back to sleep again.
So anyway, Nic got up, let Mallei out, then shut him back in the bedroom with me so I could sleep in a little while longer. Otherwise he gets sad and paces the hall back and forth because he's a momma's-boy and y'know, might be missing out on my love or something. So Nic probably would have gotten up at 6.45 or so. At 7am, pretty much on the dot... there comes a squeak outside my door. Like:
"Mee?!"
...
Oh no.
"...MEE?!?!"
Just... go back to sleep. She'll give up eventually.
"MEO!! MEEEO! MEW MEW!!!! MEEE!?"
And then she starts throwing herself at the door.
"Mee?!"
Thud.
"MEE?!"
Thud, scrabble, scratch.
"MEE MEE MEE!!!"

Best resting place, ever.

Nic eventually comes, knowing this will go on unless she gets in. I say to him that we shouldn't let her in because she's going to keep doing this for the rest of her life if she gets her way and we'll never be able to sleep in ever again.
After the door was opened, the toddles in and sits in the threshold, looking perplexed. From the kitchen she sounded like she had been in mortal pain. Like, if she didn't get in that room with me and Mal, the world was going to encapsulate itself into a vortex, and the last sounds we would hear would be
"Meeeeeeeeeeeee......" trailing off into the depths of space.

She has a habit of doing this, though. We're still learning when she's actually meowing for a reason, or when she's just having fun making noise (like a very young child, I told you!). 99% of the time, it's the latter. Often I'll be sitting in the couch, and from the bathroom I'll hear:
"Mee!" (I'm using "mee" because she never seems to follow-through with the noise. She forgets the end sound.)
...
"Mee mee!?!"
"Meeee?!"
And I'll get up and go look.
She's sitting on the bathroom counter.
That's it.
Just sitting there. When I walk in, she stands up, happy that I've come to pay attention to her. Usually I walk out.
Or when I'm in the kitchen and she's on her scratch-pole, literally 5 feet from where I'm cooking.
"Mee?!"
I look over. She's just laying there on the top platform, tail swishing a little maybe, eyes big and expectant, watching me. Then she opens her mouth and no noise comes out. This is a meow she's done since we got her. Like opening her mouth is enough- why go to all the trouble of making noise, particularly if she's purring.

 Mia & I. Remember that luxurious rug I wrote about, that makes her brain explode? She's on it. She spends many, many hours sleeping on this rug.

Over Easter, while we're going to Bright, we've asked my Mum to look after both her and Mallei. It'll be a bit of an interesting scenario actually, because in their house then will be Mum's 14 year old Aussie shepherd, who is deaf and somewhat blind, and who is also Mallei's Uncle... there'll be Mal, then there's Mum's 14 year old cat Fudge, who looks a fair bit like Mia, actually (tortoiseshell), who hasn't lived with another cat for probably 10 years... and then there'll be Mia, who is brave, but hasn't seen other cats since she was a kitten, but who may also just want to play with Fudge, all the time. I'm hoping that by having her very best-buddy there, our little kitten (she's 6 months old now!!! Still a kitten, right?) won't be so stressed out. She'll be there for 5 days, and Mum's using it as an experiment to see how Fudge goes with a kitten, to see if my brother can get one for himself.
So that ought to be fun. Hopefully they'll be ok.
She can interupt someone else's sleep for  a week.
"Mee!"

(Also: They're totally cuddling right now, Mal and Mia. She has paws around his neck, eyes closed. Occasionally she'll lick his face, or he hers... Then he looks over at me, asking if he's done a good job.)

there's been a lot of rain lately...

My Dad cracks me up.

We've been organizing flights for me to go up and visit him in Townsville over winter (so, June). We booked them the other day, knowing Nic wouldn't be able to get that much time off work to come up with me, I was just going to leave him with Mia and Mallei and have a holiday up there all by my lonesome.

Last night (a couple of nights after we'd booked the tickets), my phone rings- it's Dad.  Now, you have to kind of imagine a typically jovial, dorky Dad, who's funny without meaning to be, because he's a dork, but Aussie, ok?

Here is me and Dad, back in the day, with a koala. I don't think they let you hold them like this anymore. Liability and all. He no longer has the beard. I have more hair. T'aw.

"Hey Dad!"
"Oh! G'day Em!"
"...How're you?" (I'm puzzled as to why he's calling, since I spoke with him only a couple of days ago and we tend to have once-a-fortnight catchups. It works for us. I thought he might be calling because I'd sent an email asking whether he knew any good places for a couple-nights hike over Easter, since he's done a lot more hiking than we have, and knows the trails better.).
"Good, good thanks. It's been raining a lot here! Good thing you're not coming up now! We've had 600mm of rain!"
I'm thinking: He's calling me to tell that a tropical part of this country is raining? During the wet season? Really?
"Oh... Well, good thing!"
"Yeah.... I haven't been able to play the back 9 holes of our golf course if 5 months! It's been flooded!"
(As a side note, apparently there's a crocodile that lives in a pond on their golf-course. I'm kind of glad they haven't been allowed down there) At this point, I think Nic said my face was like: You're calling to tell about the weather, wtf?
"Oh no!"
"Yep. And the club's really struggling for money now because nobody can play the holes that they're thinking of having a trivia competition!" Said like it was a terrible offense to mankind.
"Well... that'll be fun?"
"They were trying to think of ways to raise money, so someone suggested this trivia night, and I said 'Why don't we have a hole-in-one competition on my hole?' which is the one I look after (he does the gardening on it) and the best hole in the golf course, but nobody's been able to get there for 5 months because it's all muddy and swamp! Haha!!"
"...Oh!"
"Yeah! The other day, I tried to go to the post-office, and I had to wade through 2 feet of water to get there!!!"
"Ha! How about that!? You're not getting floods or anything are you?"
There's a momentary silence, like I'm an idiot.
"No, no, you know, it just rains here!" (You'll notice I finish every one of his sentences with an exclamation mark. It's like that, really).
"Oh. Well, yeah, it's the rainy season, I guess. You're used to it..." Still waiting to get to the point.
"So, uh, I just logged on to my email, and I saw about the easter trip, so I'll email you about that later...But, do you think Nic might like to come up for the long weekend?!" (I'm going up over a long weekend, and then some)
"Well, yeah, of course he would, but that's only 3 days! He could easily get at least 2 days off work..!" So here is my Dad, offering to buy my fiance tickets for a 5 hour flight to come visit him for 3 days.
"Well, it'd be nice to see Nic! So if he came up on Saturday and left on Monday, that'd be pretty good!"
Sometimes he doesn't hear what I say, my father.
"He could come up a couple more days, Dad, that won't be a problem. Maybe he could fly up with me, and just go home a bit earlier!"
So he goes and looks online and tells me he'll book them, to which I have to slow him down, make sure Nic can get the time off work before the non-refundable tickets are booked.
At the end of the conversation, everything comes in a rush:
"Ok, well call me tomorrowoktalktoyousoonloveyoubye!!!"
And I think, again, yep. My Dad rocks. He's bough/buyingt tickets for both of us... and this 'love you' at the end of each phone call? I think that started creeping in there around about the time of Cyclone Yasi.
On that though, my brother didn't call.
He didn't call before the cyclone, and I don't think he called immediately after the cyclone.
But anyhoo. That's the story of how Nic is coming up to Queensland with me, assuming he can get the time off, which shouldn't be an issue.

Me, in a box. I don't know why. For a guy who didn't want to be a Dad up until the point where I was actually born, I think he did ok.  

I was going to write a nice deep post about how we talked a little about cheating and the 'd-word' (Nic said: "Dumped?!?!?!" and I said: "Uh... the married version of that, yes" .. "Ooohhh. Divorce.") last night, and what came of that, but, well, this was more fun. Maybe I'll do that tomorrow. No Post-school day post today because I didn't go yesterday. I was tired and didn't feel up to it and had a headache most of the morning so it's probably a good thing. Next week though, there will be more School antics. Also another Tasty Tuesday (maybe our gnocchi recipe that we'll be doing tonight) and I'm making a bit of a kitten-growing-up-and-antics video as well, but I'm missing some bits, so I'll do that eventually.
Happy Friday (well, for some of us) y'all.

if a story were a tree.. pt2

So I haven't quite finished the story about how me and the lover boy ended up getting together.

Cast your mind back... this is how we officially 'met'... But not when we fell in love.

There's a few different versions of the story I'm about to tell, depending on who we're talking to... But there always are, aren't there? No matter which story you're telling, it changes from person to person. 

So, let's call this Em's-blog-version, knowing I don't know my readers well enough maybe to go into the particularly juicy details.

Not that there are that many. But anyway. Dig up, Em.

Our last story left off with Nic jetsetting to Europe to study. We heard from each other, usually on birthdays, though we were both notoriously bad at remembering when each others' birthday was (mine should have been easy - 3 days after his Mum's. Just sayin'.) He sent me a Welsh dictionary one year, cos he was studying in Wales. He accuses me often of not sending anything at all. Meh.

So I did my Undergrad in Arts, and finished that by the end of 2007. I knew I wanted to do my teaching degree, but not right away. I was sick of school, sick of studying, and I knew that if I didn't travel before I did my teaching degree, then it wouldn't ever happen because I'd end up in a real job and I wouldn't be able to be carefree like that any more.

Warsaw- Not quite Krakow. This was their national library, I think, and there were 5 or 7 of these colored pegasus outside, all different colors. 

So I got a job at a call-centre and worked for a year and a half, saving up money. In Feb of 2009, I wandered into the travel agent and asked them about the cost of flights to Krakow. Bit random, but I wanted to go to Auchwitz, then a whole lot of other places. I'll add in at this point that for the 5 years since leaving highschool at this point, I'd thought often of Nic and wondered what could have been, and if I'd let something worthwhile get away, but since it hadn't been anything, I couldn't dwell on it. I went home that afternoon with a tentatively booked ticket, the salesperson using the old "I can only hold this price/seats till Wednesday!!!" trick, to panic me into wanting to buy the tickets. I'm older and wiser now and know I could have kicked his arse in the price of the tickets by doing it myself online, but since it was the first time just going on a trip, by myself, to another country- to Poland, I think it was probably safer that I did it through an agent. I went home, as I said, to my now-ex boyfriend who I was living with at the time, and told him I was probably going to Europe in October, and he could come, if he wanted, but knew he wouldn't want to. Surprise, surprise, he didn't want to. On Wednesday I bought the tickets. 

moments of memories

 Vancouver skyline, taken, I think, from Stanley Park

I was thinking and worrying a little while ago that I hadn't invested enough in our trip to North America- that we'd spent too much time driving and shopping (my bad, I desperately wanted some brown boots that didn't cost a fortune like they would back here), and not enough time 'doing stuff'. Which, I suppose, is 'tourist stuff', which we didn't want to do. But I think back on Europe and I did the 'tourist stuff'... but it was a different trip. It was old, beautiful European cities. It was reading a book in a park that the tourists in Prague didn't know about, and watching actual Czech families (so rare in that city) walking their prams, or teenagers skateboarding - calling out (what I assume were) profanities in another language. It was going rafting by myself, and having my Slovenian rafting guide turn the boat lengthways, slide down into it, and put his feet up on the edge, exclaiming in near-perfect English that
"It's like being at the movies!" As the beautiful Soca river wound its way into the Slovenian hills- a perfect panorama.
Let me give a little bit of an explanation, for those of you just joining us. In late October-early December, Nic and I traveled to North America. Nic was born over there, and we have the intention of one day leaving Australia and living... somewhere else. We needed to see some parts of the continent before we could make a decision. So the trip came, and went. We flew into LA but didn't stay, going straight to Seattle, which we explored, and then over to Port Angeles, so we could bathe in the beautiful Olympic mountains. We took the ferry to Victoria, BC, and drove up Vancouver island to Nic's childhood home, before we took another ferry to Vancouver, BC where we stayed only one night, which was enough time for us to fall ridiculously in love with the city. After this, we flew to Boston where, again, we didn't stay, but hired a car to drive through New Hampshire, Vermont, and upper New York State, where we stayed a couple of days at Nic's junior highschool, before crashing with a friend in Montreal, driving up to Mont Tremblant, down to Quebec City, through Maine, and back to Boston where, once again, we didn't stay, but instead took a bus to NYC. Cue epic hunt for boots and many shenanigans, of which I'll write later. We stayed a week, and ate too many bagels. Thanksgiving was had with Nic's brother and sister in law in Madison, WI, and by this point we had decided that we would rather go back to Vancouver, and had subsequently rerouted our flights from WI-CA back to Seattle, so we could hire another car, and go up to Whistler, Vancouver etc. Then we went home. Phew. It was 6 weeks long, and we did a lot of driving, and a lot of walking.
And then I thought about some of the things we did do, and the moments we had, and I felt a bit better. It was a different trip entirely, the North American visit. And I thought maybe I would turn some of the happiest times out here, to remind myself, and Nic, about some of the more awesome times we had.
This one came to me the other day as I was having a bath- trying to soothe my muscles after a boot-camp style fitness class - and reading Maths articles for school. Today was drizzly, too, and kind of chilly, but not cold. What I would consider perfect Vancouver weather.

we're becoming one of those couples...

This morning, Sunday morning, Nic and I woke up at 6am.
Crazy, right?
It's Sunday! Day of weekly-weigh-in, berry pancakes (previously enjoyed with real maple syrup from Vermont (not the suburb south of here), but now since we're too poor to afford such luxury, with Supermarket Brand Maple Flavored Syrup), double episodes of Grey's back-to-back, vacuuming, and occasionally going for a walk.
But not this week, no.
I had been saying for over a year that we should go in a fun run! as a way to increase motivation to train and go jogging and try and get to 5km (or whatever). Since Nic had arrived in Australia, and had actually not run off on me (like an ex of mine), I had been saying this. But it hadn't happened.
Then we joined the gym,
And here I was, running 5km on a treadmill in 35 minutes (with occasional breathing-and-hacking-up-a-lung breaks), or doing intervals and running between 8.5km/h and 11km/h (I think I mentioned this, I remember putting something into miles a little while ago. Yup, here it is), and, a month before said gym membership or newly-found-running-ability, Nic found a fun run that completed the morning with pancakes, and entered us in it.
Lordy.
So we wake up this morning to a perfect Melbourne autumn day (a couple days early), which is to say that it was bleak, drizzly and depressing.
Awesome.

if a story were a tree, these would be the roots...

Today I feel like telling a story.

I feel like I've launched into this blog thing without really giving a sense of who we were and where we came from. I wrote about our engagement back in October, but there was no pre-story. Because I like writing, and because I'm trying to waste time at work, I thought I'd write the story here of how we met, re-met, and fell in love.
Ok, so that sounds a little epic for what I actually intended, and could probably turn into a novel (I've had people tell me it should be a movie) so I'll try and not go on and on too much. In the end, this is the story about how we met - the re-meeting and falling in love will have to come later on.

It was 2001.
I was an awkward year 9 student at a 'hippy' private school. I would have been 16 at the time, getting way into the internet; chat sites, role-playing, various pagan/wiccan spiritual sort of communities. And I made mistakes, stupid teenage decisions, but decisions that meant Nic and I ended up meeting. It was these mistakes which lead me to have some bizarre Canadian obsession and so, when my best friend of the time heard that there was a new kid at school (who was Canadian, lo and behold) we became instantly fascinated and made it our lunch-time quest to hunt him down.

He wasn't hard to find- a green backpack proudly had the Canadian flag sewn to the front, red maple leaf screaming his nationality. He was eating a sandwhich. I can imagine us two girls now, with eyes bulging and mouths open, as though we'd never seen someone so fascinating in our lives, and he, unaware that he was about to meet someone who would torment him for the rest of highschool* and would, eventually love him, and be loved by him.

Are you Canadian!?!?!" We asked, shrill voices ablaze and probably talking in unision.
With a nod of his head, we commenced conversation, although I have a feeling much of it revolved around us trying to convince him to say 'about', or 'out', or 'mouse'. But this is just the story of how we met.

Let's be clear about something: Nic and I were not highschool sweet-hearts, even though it seems as though the story is going in that direction.

chaps 'n hats...

This is a trilby hat (apparently.).



And I must say, Nic looks unbearably adorable (and sexy) in one of these hats.
Though, thinking about it, I'd almost need some sort of 20's Glamour dress for the 'theme' to work, but whatever, I don't care. Oh. I was meant to preface this with:
Nic may will be wearing one of these hats to our wedding.

The kitten woke me up at 5.30am this morning. And my elbow joints ache from the pump class I did friday night (wtf?). Most of the rest of me is feeling better, although I got on the scales this morning and that particularly depressing. That being said, the kitten (who weighed 1.3kg a week ago) also got on the scales, and it said she weighed 3.5kg, so I can probably subtract 2kg from her weight, and therefore, from my weight. Our scales lie. Which is somewhat inconvenient. Regardless, I'd quite like to loose about 9kg at some point. Or not even. Because weight is a tricky thing, what with muscles being heavy and so on. So, I shall revise that to: "I'd quite like to fit into the jeans I bought in Paris", as that was the lightest I've ever been. And I love those jeans.
So elbow pain or no, I'm going for a run this afternoon.
Wait, that doesn't make any sense.
The kitten's constant disruption of my sleep is really messing with me (and Nic).
The problem is that she's so fricken adorable. I mean, who wouldn't want to be woken up by a purring, soft, head-bumping love machine of joy and adorability?
Which is fine, until she settles in on my chest, across my face. Causing me to twist my head to an awkward angle so I can breathe without sucking in mouthfuls of fur and getting it up my nose. Since I'm especially comfortable, she shows her gratitude by kneading my windpipe.
With claws.
Which, at first, is ok. Her claws are trimmed. But after a while, the pad-pad-pad-pad of soft and clawy, turns into rasp-rasp-grate-grate-bleeding.
It feels like that anyway.
BUT SHE'S NOT COMFORTABLE! So she tries a different tactic, and goes under the covers.
Where her tail tickles my stomach. And that's not comfortable either so she comes back up. I'm doing my best not to move, because that will start the whole process again. My arms are usually in some ridiculous pretzel up near my head, and she decides that this=kitten basket, and curls her way into the pretzel, cutting off the circulation to my hands. The purring, louder than any cat I've ever known, continues on. And I've been on one side for long enough now that I'm uncomfortable.
She begins to drift off, eyes closing lazily, purr fading a little.
I try not to think of how uncomfortable I am. How much I hate my bodyparts being numb. How my legs feel crooked, and my back is twisted, which probably isn't good for my spine, and oh my god what if I'm giving myself body issues and a bad back because of this damn kitten.
And she's asleep now, a warming ball of downy fluff, little kitten smile on her kitteny face. Which is adorable, but my hands are in agony, my arms are pretzels, my feet feel weird, and my back is twisted dangerously, I'm sure of it.
So, I try and roll over, to the other side.
The purr starts up again!!!
And so the cycle begins anew.

The point of all that, which I seemed to have missed, is that I'm feeling particularly fuzzy in the head, dead tired, and not able to concentrate too well. Plus my elbows are sore. Which is just me complaining. But really, who gets sore elbows? You go to the gym to work out your shoulders, but they're really the only 'joints' you try and beef up. Nobody says:
"Hey Joe, check out my beefing elbows! They're totally ripped."
"They've got nothing on my ankles. Look at these bad boys..."

It's time for a nap. Will they give me sick pay because I had to go home tired??

just let me have a moment to write...!

So much has happened since my last post.

I've finished Uni for the year, and whether I pass or not is yet to be seen. If I need to resubmit anything, I'll be overseas when I have to do it, which will be slightly problematic. I don't think they usually let you do that anyway, so here's hoping I pass.

Nic and I decided on Friday night last week (08/10) to go to the Grampians that weekend, totally smashing any of his plans for a trip to the Peninsula, and leaving us with very last-minute plans to leave Mallei with my ex (ironic, knowing we were going to the Grampians to get engaged) and head up there Saturday morning.

But head up we did, in high spirits. We went exploring in the Southern part of the Grampians, where we climbed the Picanniny, went to Dunkeld and checked out the Arboretum and the Royal Post hotel which holds wedding (too fancy and expensive for us, but still interesting). We were going to try and climb Mt. Thackary but the gate was seasonally closed so we couldn't get there. We had to cross two little streams in my car and it did so well. It's a great adventure city car. More on the car later.

 

On the 'Picanniny'

 

Dunkeld Arboretum

 

Emu's in a paddock driving between Victoria and Serra Ranges

 

Beautiful Australian scenery

 

The first stream crossing

As we headed back toward camp, I was reading the maps and saw that Mt. William was recommended as a place for great sunsets. It was about 6pm at the time, and we thought we could smash out getting to the top and maybe catch the sunset, if the patchy clouds hanging around didn't spoil it. Mt. William is also the tallest mountain on the Grampians, and we hadn't been there before. It promised great views.

As we arrived, a chill wind blew, but the sunset looked somewhat promising so we grabbed our jackets and tea gear, and started the walk. The path was steep but easy- it's a maintenance vehicle track that goes right to the top. Nic said later that even when we're old and unfit, we can still pull ourselves up the hill without too much difficulty. I'll get to that.

As we climb, the clouds start to roll in overhead more and more...

 

Views from the hike...

 

Clouds start to roll over... no sunset for us...

We climb higher, and meet an Indian couple who have given up on the view at the top. They say:

"Are you hoping to get to the top?"

I think: "Well, that was the aim of the expedition, yes..." They tell us it's cloudy up there, and there's no chance of a view. We push on, hoping we'll get above the cloud line, or they'll blow over.

 

Nic trucking on, all around us is blotted out by clouds. White white white.

We get to the top. There's a cold wind and clouds all around, making it feel like we're in Apline Victoria, particularly in the early morning. It's eerie and quiet, though there are a couple of birds singing. Nic starts to set up some tea, while I get photos of the nonexistant view. I suspect he's planning on 'popping the question' when I get back to him. He's been strangely quiet on the walk up, and I wonder how long he's been planning on surprising me by asking today, instead of tomorrow as we'd planned. I figure he's rehearsing his lines in his head. 

 Great views all round..

Nic getting the tea ready from a shaded alcove.

I head back and we have some tea. Nic is sitting thoughtfully. He says to me:

"You know how you like numbers?"

I should explain, when it comes to house numbers and dates, some are just cooler than others. 10/10/10 is cool... 08/09/10, also cool. To live at 123 Smith street, would be cool, as would 365. Nic explains to me that 364 is a pretty cool number (number of days since we met up in Paris).... and although it's foggy around, like the future, the path down is clear, like it is for us, and would I marry him? As he gets on one knee. So it wasn't exactly what I had envisaged, we were drinking condensed-milk tea, there was no view and fog, but often these sorts of comedy-of-errors are what define our relationship, which makes it somewhat fitting. As he said, this place where we were, was the highest in the Grampians, usually has an amazing view, and we can drag our asses back here when we're unfit and old. We took some happy snaps and made some movies (I haven't watched them yet) and stayed up there for a little while longer until I got cold, then we sauntered our way back down the mountain. 

 Happy girl with a ring on..

 Still cloudy... Nic made me laugh at something or other..

Our beautiful sunset...

We set up camp and made dinner, and had a camp fire. I gave Nic a book I'd written for him- it was our story until this point in 'Choose your own adventure style", something I'd started at about 1pm Thursday, and finished by 5pm friday, with work and class inbetween there. I'd probably worked on it for about 3 hours, and had written 47 pages, mixed them all up, and only managed to stuff up one link, go me. We read through that, then trundled off to bed. 

Next morning we decided to go on three short hikes to various places in the southern section of the gramps. It took a bit longer to get to than we expected so we decided to do two instead of 3. 

We went to these falls, I forget what they're called, and then to Paddy's Castle, both really nice places.

 

A wallaby friend at camp.

 

Little orange tent. You can't see too well, but there's a mountain in the background.

 

At the falls.

 

A stumpy-tailed lizard I swerved to avoid, then slammed on the breaks to go check out. He was in the middle of the road and I didn't want him to get squished, so Nic got a stick and pushed him to the side of the road. As you can see, he wasn't very happy about this treatment, but it was for the best.

 Up on Paddy's Castle.

Both of us at Paddy's castle. Some elderly people had clambered up, and took this photo for us.

We decided to head home, it was getting late and we couldn't be bothered going on the last walk- we were getting pretty tired anyway. As we drove off, we came around a corner and there was a roo by the road. We swerved to miss him, and as the road was very soft, loose gravel, we spun, over-corrected (I think), spun the other way, and careened off the road. We missed crashing in to a huge gumtree by not much, but crushed some saplings. The front of my bumper is looking quite sad and sorry for itself at the moment, as it had saplings jutting out from under the car and through the wheel arch. The sad thing is, even as we were crashing off the road, about to die or injure ourselves or whatever, all I could think about was how Mum was going to be so angry with me because I've smashed up the car.

Isn't that stupid? It's still in her name, as is the insurance, but it's my car. And I wasn't thinking; I hope we're ok. I'm thinking: I hope I haven't ruined this car too much because Mum will be angry with me if I have. 

But it was ok, I guess. It needs a new bumper, and new quarter-side panel, and a wheel alignment before I'll drive it again, but we got it back to Melbourne at least. It's in the driveway now and not moving.

Poor adventure car..

That being said, the car did really well to get us out of there alive, to not get smashed up too badly, and to still manage to drive us home on the freeways and not loose its bumper. I'll have to get it fixed when we get home from the trip, but I just can't do it right now. I wouldn't be able to book it in and get it back before we leave.

So that was my engagement weekend. And I've had thoughts and mixed feelings (not about being engaged to Nic, just about the whole institution) since we got back... I told my Mum (first about the car, then about the engagement), and she seemed surprised, but faked happiness (I didn't feel it was genuine but there you go)... and then I told my Dad, and he was great. He was actually genuinely happy for us. At the end of the call he said: "I love you", which he never does. Sally was also really happy, and called me back to say congrats. Nic's family was also really happy, and we just put it on facebook where a bunch of people have commented. One notable absence is my old 'best friend', who may not have checked/seen it (doubtful), or who just doesn't give a shit anymore. If he doesn't, good on him. In fact, good on him and Alex, and good luck to both of them. 

More about my thoughts next time I have time. Lunch now.

Welcome & Introductions!

Since I had to keep my 'about me' section rather brief, here's the somewhat expanded version, for anybody who cares!

I already have a blog about education, so I thought I'd make my life twice as blogworthy and make one for the rampant wedding planning I seem to be doing.
Here's the story: Nic and I met when I was 16, in Highschool. He had a crush on me for forever, but I didn't. He told me this at a going away party before he moved to Europe for 5 years, and 5 years later I decided to travel to that side of the world. Cue romantic 24 hour meet up in Paris, etc, etc, a month later and he had moved back to Australia to be with me. All together now: Aaaw. That's the abridged version, anyway. The full version is much more interesting and sweet, but you get the idea.

After being together for not-very-long, we came to the very rational decision that we liked each other, a lot, we made an amazing team, we completed each other, and what-the-hey, we should get married! So one day we went 'ring looking', though we hadn't officially decided anything yet. While we were doing this, we liked the experience so much that we decided to keep doing it until we found 'the one' (I know, I know, but really we did- I stopped looking when I found my ring). So at the moment I'm pre-engaged. The ring, although it wasn't expensive, was still much more than Nic could handle comfortably on his Telstra call-center wage, and I felt bad anyway because he would have to spend so much on something that only I got to wear? I didn't think it was fair. So, we went halves. And I feel better about that. It's like starting off this journey on equal footing, rather than him having outlaid all this money on me and I 'owe' him, so we have to get married. Or something. It felt archaic. I mean, the whole thing does, but I still wanted a ring (and never had before, how strange)
. So I know when he's going to ask- I don't know how or where, but that's ok. We're not traditional, so knowing in advance (10/10/10, here we come) is fine by me.

The wedding won't be until at least April 2012, but I've been looking around for a few months now, mostly at wedding blogs. I seem to go through various obsessions- this week is dresses. With our trip to North America looming, I thought I'd look and see what bridal stores were in NYC. It all sort of spiraled downhill from there to the point where I began designing my own dresses- sketching them, I mean.

But here's what I'm picturing so far:

Outdoor reception with a close friend of ours, or Nic's mum as the officiator, very casual, loving, no formal vowels, all written ourselves, a ring-warming ceremony, not being walked down the aisle by my Dad, a first look before the ceremony. As we leave, guests will wave 'yay' flags. At the reception, long tables, simple decorations, possible a purple and turquoise theme, with splashes of golden yellow and chocolate brown- sort of like peacock colours but not quite. A first dance. A non-traditional 'cake' - pies, or tarts or something. Hay-bales or couches for lounging on, possibly a bonfire or campfire at the end. Light, love, joy, colour. A wedding on a budget, somewhere surrounded by trees, hopefully with hills in the background. Non-matching bridesmaids, and the more I think about it: a dress I designed myself. Or otherwise something pretty, but understated- not a big ballgown or layers and layers of ruffles and frills. 

And that's where I'm at so far.

Be prepared to be bombarded with wedding pr0n, loving adulation for Nic (nowhere else to put them), stresses, woes and revelations.

Please comment, question and capitulate (now I'm just trying to look wordy) and stick around for a while. It's a long way until April...