Showing posts with label Being Sad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Being Sad. Show all posts

Going "Home"?

Now that we've been back in Sydney for a couple of weeks, it almost feels like our holiday to the States never even happened.  The build-up to the trip was intense - creating packing lists, buying souvenirs and generally worrying too much about what it would be like being back.  I've heard a lot of ex-pats talk about their first trip back and there seems to be an almost unanimous agreement that it is a very big deal.  There are a lot of emotional issues inside of that first visit - do you still fit in, are you homesick for your original home, are you homesick for your ex-pat home etc....

I can't lie - I was so nervous...  I was excited to see my family again; but I was mostly afraid of going back, realising that I missed it too much and then coming back to Australia completely miserable and homesick.  I have been lucky up to this point on the homesickness front - not that it hasn't happened; but that it seems to happen infrequently and be very low-grade when it does.

Anyway, the visit was great... There was lots that felt weird and lots that we seemed to just fall right back in to.  Being back in the States did make me realise how much I had been missing; but hadn't admitted to myself.  I really miss driving...  I love that we use public transport here; but I miss the ease of getting places easily, quickly and on my own timetable.  I also miss the ease of driving - I've driven here; but it has not been a fun experience...  Being on the wrong side of the car throws off what little spatial understanding I have and both of my driving experiences here have left me shaken and teary as I narrowly avoid being side swiped the whole time. So, while we were back on our holiday, I was finding any excuse possible to drive - it just was so effortless and enjoyable.

I also missed the prices and the ease of shopping - it's easier to drive to stores, they are bigger, it's cheaper and the customer service is unparalleled.  So yeah, I miss those things a lot...

I was really looking forward to eating certain types of food that I missed and that part was very disappointing to me.  Nothing tasted quite like I remembered and nothing tasted as good as the food here in Sydney.  Except burgers....  They were amazing and promptly reminded me why I don't order burgers here in Australia - they just can't quite seem to get them right.

Anyway, the last two nights before we left to come back to Australia, I got really really homesick.  Crying myself to sleep homesick - which is exactly what happened to me when we originally moved here.  It passed, and by the time we left for the airport on our last day, I was only looking forward to coming back here to Sydney.  Isn't that interesting?  Crying for one home and yet looking forward to returning to your other home...

I guess if I learned anything from this trip, it's that you can have two homes and you can love them both so much that you can miss each one when you are gone from it.  I learned that Sydney has become my home over this past year and that, regardless of my "ishews", I don't want to leave it.

Coming out of customs and into the Sydney airport proper are these banners.  One says, "Welcome to Sydney" and that's the one I was excited to see when we moved here.  Look more closely though, and you will see that they next one says "Gday, Welcome Home".  That's the one that I was most excited to see on this trip because I felt like it had finally come true for me.

If you look more closely, you will see a Christmas tree as well, which is a dead give-away to the fact that this is actually not my picture.  I stole it from the interwebs because I never have enough hands free to actually snap a picture at any time during a trip - let along a 26 hour, 4 layover trip.

The upshot of all this is:  I love my family, I love the US and I miss all of them all the time. I also love Sydney, I love my husband and I love our life here - so parting from one to go back to the other isn't as hard as I thought it would be.

What Not to Blog....

I was going to start this post out with a comment about “Unbloggable Ishews”; but then I realised that none of you would have any idea what I meant.  The reason for that is that you probably don’t read this incredible blog (unless you are my sister Julie who recommended it to me) by Suse over at “Pea Soup”.  You should read her – she’s funny and inspiring and reading her posts is a highlight to my blogroll.  Anyway, she occasionally will mention “unbloggable ishews” in reference to problems that cannot be aired like the usual post content. 

I feel that way a lot – it’s rewarding having readers; but I wonder sometimes how much nicer it would be to have a “diary” instead of a “blog”.  Not only do I have lots of these ishews… I have them across different facets of my life.  Sometimes when Joe and I fight (which to be fair, is very infrequent and usually small) I am so tempted to log on here and pour my heart out with my indignity and righteousness…. (yikes!  That would be a miserable entry, no?)  In those moments, I am reminded of the movie “Julie and Julia” where Julie and her husband get into a fight, he storms off and leaves her with a yelled “And don’t blog about this fight!”.  Too true, too true…. 

Another huge “ishew” that I had never even considered when I started this blog was not really being able to talk about the differences between countries and the hardships of settling into a new culture.  Don’t get me wrong, no one minds a cutesy little post where I compare the currency of both countries or posts about the different types of food here etc….  But those entries that I write about the negative aspects of being in this country (or moving to a new country in general) seem to spark an insane negative knee-jerk reaction from Australian natives and ex-pats alike.  In a way, this could be a positive I suppose.  No one wants to read a complaining rant about Australian customer service (or lack thereof) or a teary entry about how homesickness can hit you in the gut sometimes so hard that you are left bent double and gasping – trying to regain your equilibrium.  I’m sad for them though – those entries that will never see the light of day on this blog – the really honest (and maybe slightly scary) ones.

I have to consider my audience so carefully.  I don’t know if anyone at work reads my blog; but I’m sure some do  - so I can never post about my “ishews” at work.  Really, when you pare down my list of things that are unacceptable subject topics there doesn’t seem to be a whole lot left to air my voice on.  Perhaps this is one of the reasons why I have started posting so little?  Well, along with the fact that my life is super boring!

Enough introspection!  Onwards and Upwards as they say....

Write Tonight?

I am in the midst of dealing with our first ever "shaped" internet usage!  "Shaped" is a nice Aussie term for "you have used to much internets and now you must be punished!"  So, we have a plan for 100MB a month (yes, I know this is an extreme amount; but we download a lot so don't judge) and it is at lightning fast (I'm not being sarcastic - it really is crazy fast) broad band speed.  Once we go over our 100MB we get throttled back to a "slightly faster then dial-up" speed.

What that means....  Well, for one thing, it means that I downloaded too many movies the other day.  Also, this means that there will be no video-Skyping tomorrow for our Skype date with Joe's parents.  That is a bummer.  The only positive here is that our usage resets in about 24 hours - so, we only have to live with a pre-historic internet connection for another day.

Jennifer - I am dying to watch your You-Tube videos... I can get to "this is the part of the classroom" and then it stops loading and I have to give up.  I swear I will watch them Sunday night.

Anyway...  last Sunday (well, really two Sundays ago) - the day after the crazy rain, was a momentous day because it was my grandfather's 91st birthday.  Well, technically, his birthday was Saturday in the States; but I got to call him on Sunday morning our time and talk to him after his birthday dinner.  I've blogged about him before in this post about his time in Perth/Freemantle so you can go there and read up on the back story if you would like.  I feel so connected to him here in Australia and I think about him all the time.  It's incredible to me that I lived my whole life up to this point thinking that no one in my family had ever been to Australia.  Now knowing that he was here before me gives me this feeling of calm - like he checked it out for me to make sure it was ok for me to come.  I was so lucky to get married in Florida on the beach two years ago and I was even more lucky to have him there to walk me down the aisle.  This is my favourite picture of us from the wedding - I think I look a little like my mom in it which makes it perfect. 

So, I just want to say - Happy Birthday Coach!  I'm so glad I got to share in your day a little even though I am so far away.  Also, thanks for sharing in this wonderful adventure we are having - I promise, I'll make it to Freemantle while we are here and take lots of pictures for you!

Sunday was also the wedding day of fellow blogger C. where she married her Partner-in-Crime in a lovely ceremony overlooking the harbour.  It was an unfortunately rainy morning; but they made the best of it and managed to make the whole umbrella thing work.  Also, I've seen the "sneak peak" photos and I can say that wedding pictures involving umbrellas are super-dreamy.  I can't wait to see the rest when they are done because I think that they are going to be gorgeous.  There was a nice BBQ after at the local sailing club - it was very intimate, the food was great and there was plenty of wine.  It was a wonderful morning and it was an absolute privilege to have been invited and to have gotten to share in such a great occasion.

The week that followed was uneventful. I literally can't remember a single thing that went on during the week. I'm sure I did a ton of laundry - I made some yummy dinners - I walked to the shops a few times.  Actually, scratch all that - I just opened my batch of photos from that week and I beginning to remember more as I look through them.  Ha, who needs a photographic memory when you can just take pictures of everything you do and store them on your computer?  I'm kidding - well, sort-of... 
I have several pictures of beautiful Aussie scenery - the clouds, the flowers etc.  I still just can't get over how amazingly beautiful everything is here.  I really had to rely on the scenery and the beauty here this past week as I really struggled to be a "stranger in a strange land".  People here really seem to speak their mind about America - they do it a lot and mostly they do it in "joke" form.  They joke about the tired old stereotypes that they get from the American tv and movies that are consumed en masse here.  Usually the joking doesn't bother me very much; but there just seemed to be a lot this particular week. The worst part about it is that you can't respond to the joking without looking like a spoil sport with no sense of humor. 
So, on the days when I was so mad that I just wanted to fly back to the States to be around Americans that aren't egotistical crazies who eat at McDonald's every night (let me just interject that I am not saying Aussies are this way - I am just saying that this seems to be how many of them perceive Americans) , I had to use the scenery to pull myself out of it.  Also, a couple glasses of wine in the evenings are never remiss when you are in a bad mood!

*editing to add that at midnight the internet completely died and so here I am the next morning, praising Blogger's auto save function (ha, that's totally going to get Googled) because without it, this might be a very different (and much more angry) post.

A good deal of the week was spent trying to get ready for Halloween - We decided to have a Halloween carnival at work complete with Bobbing for Apples and also Donut on a String (which I shamelessly stole from Arvin's Halloween festivities last year).  Much fun was had by all; but it was a lot of wok and a lot of stress.  By Friday afternoon when I was setting everything up, I was pretty much ready to be done with everything.  With Halloween, with the people, with being new and not knowing what to do/where to go/where to buy things etc...  After the carnival, Joe was nice enough to take me out to a nice dinner and then, after we had had sometime to decompress, we met up with the work colleagues at a hotel (which is a bar) and continued the night.

Saturday was a very very quiet day - Joe and I weren't feeling too well after being out too late the night before.  We mostly just putzed around the house, watched a movie or two and vegged. 

Sunday was a Halloween party that we were invited to by a coworker. It was "fancy dress", which mean costumes here; but not everyone ended up dressing up.  I am slightly amazed to say that I dressed up as Bride of Frankenstein, complete with fright wig, fake eyelashes, white skin, stitches on the face and the whole bit and I have not one single picture of this to show you. Not a single picture....

I also have to add here that it has been raining constantly (ok, that may be a slight exaggeration); but it has been reminding me of winter here more than spring.  I am really ready for some blindingly hot sunshine.  I think that may help improve everything around here.

And that is all....

Good and Bad

So, Ive had this post rolling around inside my head ever since we got our stuff (man, that makes it sound like there is a whole lot of empty hollowness in my noggin).  I've been wanting to write about my Mom and Dad - not just about them; but about a few of the things of theirs that I was lucky enough to inherit...  Some possessions that mean so much to me that they are almost a tangible thread that I could follow back to my Mom and Dad if I tried hard enough.  Ok, I know that sounds fanciful.  I'm hoping to explain it here though so maybe by the end you won't think I'm so crazy.

So, like I said, I've been thinking about this post; but I wasn't really in a huge hurry to write it.  Friday evening at work someone gave a talk about eating organic (explanation, if you want to give a short talk about something than you can while everyone is drinking - I know right?) and it seemed to push a lot of buttons in the office.... including my own.  It wasn't the subject matter that bothered me - I think that if you can afford to eat organic than you should.  It was more of the way the subject was presented - lots of blanket statements and not a whole lot of objectivity.  Anyway, you know me with the big mouth - first I chimed in to give some examples of how crazy expensive organic food is here.  Then, as the talk devolved into a discussion, I was trying to get across the point that eating organic won't save your life just as not eating healthy your whole life will necessarily condemn you to cancer.  So, I used my parents as an example - one who ate very healthy and died of cancer.  One who ate badly and died of cancer.

Ugh!  What was I thinking?  Now I am the girl with the dead parents.  I try really hard to just not ever mention that my parents have died - so hard in fact that, when I was leaving my old job to move to Australia, several people asked me how my parents felt about it.  See?  I am usually very very careful.  So, we went out to the bars on Friday night after all that and I ended up having a couple drinks too many - which means that I spent Saturday morning lying in bed thinking.  Oh no - thinking...

Usually when I think about my parents (which is all the time), I think of happy things - I try very very hard to not think about the sickness part of their lives.   So, when I was a little hungover, missing them and had the morning to lay in bed with my fuzzy head and think, I thought about all of the horrible things about the actual sickness and dying part of the time I had with them.  It didn't make for a good morning; but it did make me realize that I needed to shake all of those feeling off and write a wonderful celebratory post about my parents and the things they left for me.  I am going to rise above and make this happy!

First up - the spice rack...  This hung in our dining room/kitchen for as long as I can remember.  It was full of Spice Island Spices (the nice expensive ones) so it didn't get used very often.  Mostly, it was a place to stash bills and paperwork.  When we sorted through all of the stuff in my parents house before it was sold, I was lucky enough to get the spice rack.  I immediately hung it on my kitchen wall, full of the same dusty old Spice Island spices that were too old to use.  It was a bit like a shrine really - I didn't use it at all.  When we decided to move to Australia, I had to really think about what to do with it - Leave it in the States in storage?  Bring it with? Buy new spices and send them over? 

The main problem was the old jars of spices - you can bring spices into Australia; but they have to be new and unopened.  I wondered if I should save all of the old bottles and try to clean them out; but the assortment wasn't very good.  In the end, I decided that if Mom were here she would want me to use it - not just look at it on the wall like a painting.  So, I threw away the old bottles of spices, I bought new bottles and labels and I brought all of it to Australia with me.  I've been slowly building up my collection... each time I go to the grocery store I buy a bottle or two of spices and herbs and then I repackage it when I get home. I'm so glad I made the decisions I did - I use it almost every day and it reminds me of Mom's cooking. it's like having her in my kitchen with me every time I make a meal. 

So, the next bit of this story is somewhat of a confession.  I didn't come by this next piece of property through any sort of division of property - I took it.  Granted, I was about 16 or 17 at the time and my parents were still alive so it wasn't like I knew it would be worth something more to me one day.  It was just an old book that was down in the basement and I wanted to have it; because I thought that reading Shakespeare would make me seem really cool.  In reality, none of my friends ever really cared; but I had this book and also a collected works of Edger Allen Poe so in my mind I thought I was a young literary genius.  I've carted this book around with me for the last 10 years - it went through my house fire with me and it moved a bazillion times with me.  I'm honestly quite shocked that it's made it this far.  I decided to bring it to Australia with me because it is one of my oldest possessions (and I use the term possessions loosely) and I've just always had it with me.  I had never looked inside of it before we got here.  I'm not sure what made me open it up when I was unpacking our stuff; but seeing that the book was one of my Dad's college textbooks was like a little gift from him - A little message saying "I'm here with you". 

I started turning some pages and I found his notes.  His writing - such a wonderfully familiar sight - scribbled in the margins of the plays he studied in college.  He was exactly the same age in 1960 that I am now.  I made a mental note of the notes in the book and decided to blog about it.  So, this past Saturday, after I spent the morning in dark thoughts, Joe and I went down to the reserve to read.  I brought this book and my camera to take pictures of it for this entry.  I had such fun reading the little notes and reading the passages that my Dad underlined when he was 27.  I was careful not to look at every page - these sorts of discoveries are best when you can dole them out to your self in small increments over time. 

If I were to leaf through every page and read every notation - it would be too much.  I would feel cheated that there was nothing left to discover.  It was obvious that they hadn't covered every play in the book; and it's not like the pages were littered with notes.  They were few and far between - always judicious - so that makes them all the more precious.  I figure that I will know the next time I need to get  a message from this book.  This particular Saturday, I needed a really big message. 



I was really low, really missing them - feeling sorry for myself... sick of hearing people say "but you are so young!" when they find out that my parents are gone. 
I was sitting on the blanket next to Joe, taking my artsy pictures for this blog entry when I ran across not just a message; but a gift. 

An absolutely amazing gift.

So, now I am restored - back to thinking my happy thoughts!








Honesty

Well, it's been a long and eventful week.  At this point I am weighing the good and bad together and trying to decide which one is winning right now.  I guess the nice thing is that the week isn't over and that we have some fun things planned for the weekend.

I'm finally admitting to myself tonight that I am a little depressed.  Depression is a bit funny for me - it's never very deep and it's easy for me to get out of; but I don't notice it when it's happening...  It's always several days after the fact when I can get enough clarity to look backwards and say "Oh! - that's what I've been feeling!"  I'm sick of not having much to do.  Inactivity seems to be my arch-nemesis.  As of Saturday we will have been without our things for three months; and I am really starting to miss not being able to look at all of the things that mean home to me.

I once read somewhere that there are two types of people - those who will only feel at home in a specific geographic location and those who can live anywhere as long as they are surrounded by the things that mean home to them.  I think there are many more categories than those two; but as a broad description and as an illustration to my point they work just fine.  I fall into the latter category - there are things that I own that mean home to me in a big way.  I moved a lot in my late teen/early twenties years and it never seemed to bother me as long as I had those things that were a touch point to my life.

When I think of our crate and the things that are inside of it, my first mental picture is of the belongings I inherited from my parents - My mother's spice rack, a set of their wedding china, a cushion made out of one of my Dad's flannel shirts, my Mom's sewing machine...

Next I think about the things that have meaning for me regarding Joe and our life together - our framed photos from Hocking Hills, our wedding albums, our books....

I need those things to feel completely at home here as opposed to the sort-of at home I am feeling now.  Really, it's not about possessions.... We have almost nothing here; but Joe is the biggest thing in my life that means home to me - so, wherever he is is home to me.

I've also been feeling a bit homesick the last few nights - not in a weepy sort of way... Not even any longing to go back to the States really.  More of a general regret.  That I wasn't closer to people before I left or that I didn't appreciate the time with them as much as I should have when I had it.  It's hard to think that there will be two more babies born into the family in the next couple of months that I won't be able to see/hold/cuddle.  I think about everyone every day - really, I do. I'm just afraid sometimes that they aren't doing the same and that they will end up forgetting me.

See - Inactivity makes my brain go round and round and round..... never a good thing.

Yesterday - or - Why I had a Bad Day...

I've gotten over most hurdles here so far.  I found all the little shops I need to live my life on a daily basis....
I have a grocery, dry cleaners, coffee place, cafe with wifi and a street that seems to have anything else you could think of.  I've mastered buying train and ferry tickets and actually making it onto and off of the right trains and ferries.  We have mobiles now and even an Australian bank account.  Joe is working and I got all of the paperwork just in time for him to be getting his first paycheck and for us to get reimbursed for our moving expenses.  The only thing that seems to be missing right now is finding an apartment.

We ended up getting approved for the place that we applied for in Manly; but they said absolutely not to our little doggy so we had to turn them down. It's a great feeling knowing that we can get approved with the packet that I turned in. I'm not sure why I thought they would be so anal about paperwork when they aren't anal about anything else here.  I sat next to a girl on the ferry yesterday while she talked to her friend about how pissed (wasted) they all were the night before "and oh, by the way, I just applied for an apartment and I put you down as my last landlady - I told them I lived in your building for 18 months and I paid 500 a week for rent... Thanks".  So, I guess I am being over prepared and over zealous in providing all of our last utility bills and copies of every vital document I can think of.  Oh well, if it increases our chances than great.

So, I was really excited yesterday to realise that one of our other favourite places was having a showing in just a little bit.  I ran down to Circular Quay and made it onto the Neutral Bay ferry just in time.  Of course, I ended up being early and so I had to stand in the cold rain for a half hour waiting for the agent.  She arrived and surprise surprise - her keys didn't work.  Sigh..... This is the second time we have had an inspection cancelled because the agents don't have the right keys.  There was only one other person there besides me and she immediately helped him, offered him a lift etc....  Then she turned away from me and started making calls and I actually had to go over to her and get her to take my information down so that she could call me Friday once she got the right keys.  I could feel her irritation with me and it was very obvious in the way she interacted with the Australian male that was there for the showing compared to how she acted towards me.

Of course, by the time I got back down to the ferry it was just pulling away so I had to sit and wait for a half hour.  It was pleasant for about 5 minutes until it started the increasing rain again forcing me into the little shelter.  I had the extreme pleasure (and I say this with as much Aussie sarcasm as I can muster)  of sharing the shelter with a pair of aging backpackers and their very smelly, unleashed poodle.  Well, the poodle took an immediate liking to me and started playing the age old game "I'll jump up and put my dirty paws on you and then when you try to push me away I'll try to bite you".  I feel like I was doing ok controlling my irritation until these French girls joined us inside the shelter and proceeded to chain smoke vigorously, as though they had not had a cigarette since at least ten minutes before.

I opted for cold rain over smelly dogs and clouds of cigarette smoke.  I was so dispirited by the time I got home...  I had had such high hopes that I was about to go see the apartment of our dreams.  I decided that I was done for the day - no cooking dinner, no more ironing.  So, I watched tv till Joe got home and then we went out for a ridiculously over-priced meal.  Ahhh.  I'd like to say that dinner lifted my cloud; but it really didn't.  It felt hard to be out and to be laughing with the waiter.  I felt like I was forcing my cheer.

Writing last night helped immensely and I can feel the cloud moving away more and more as I get this out of my system now.  We have a full schedule for tomorrow.  I haven't seen the schedule yet; but Joe had me book two cars for tomorrow morning at eight so I can only assume that we are splitting up again for the day and that we are seeing enough places that walking isn't an option.

I was really hoping that last weekend would be my one and only experience with driving in Australia; but I am apparently going to have a go again tomorrow.

Well, I'm off to run errands.  I am meeting Joe and his coworkers out again tonight.  One of the girls that I met last weekend is leaving the company and going back to the States.  She was really nice and has been sending all of her books on Oz home for me with Joe so I am going to get her a card and flowers as a going away gift.  So, off to the market with me and then I need to make myself look presentable for tonight...

I just wish this bloody rain would stop....

Why am I writing?

I think that it is much easier to write about happiness than it is to write about sadness.  Happy is laughing, joking, light and keeping things at arms length...  Sadness is crying, pain, heavy and letting people way too close.

I decided to keep this blog as a way to keep in touch with family and friend in a way that didn't intrude into their lives - like giant update e-mails with no obligation to read unless they wanted to.  Of course, I knew that some people would read it every day and love the way it kept them in touch.  When I write in here it makes me feel really close to the people that read it.  When I post about food especially, I think about my sisters.  I can see Theresa curled up in her chair with a coffee wearing Hello Kitty jammie pants laughing along with me as I describe meat pies with faces on them.  I see Julie on the couch in her blue bathrobe looking at my photos and dreaming of the delicious coffee here.  I keep those images in my head when I write and I like thinking that I make people laugh.  I hate thinking that any of my posts might make someone sad.

I am also writing for every other person out there who is getting ready to move here.  When we first decided to move I found some ex-pat blogs and started devouring them...  I was so hungry for information on what my life was going to be like here.  I loved the blogs more than anything because, beyond covering the usual main topics, they really delved into what a day to day existence is like when you leave your home behind for a new country.

The most important reason I am writing this is for myself.  This is my tie to home - my way of connecting with what I've left behind and my way of embracing everything I am gaining here. This is making me really live this experience instead of having it be something that is just simply happening to me.

I'm starting to feel a little dishonest here - there are so many people who read this that I start feeling like I am censoring myself to a large degree.  I am afraid of making my family and friends sad, of offending the Australians who read this and scaring off the people who are considering a similar move...  When I have a rough day or I am feeling a little (or a lot) sad, I shy away from posting for the reasons I've just named.

I guess I need to give myself permission to write posts that aren't all fluff and fun... I need to allow myself to post about everything - good and bad.

The Moment of Truth

This is not the first time I've had a blog...  This is, however, the first time that I have had one that I openly share with people.  There always comes time when you start weighing what you really want to say in your blog and what you know you should say...  For this blog, the time has come much sooner than I thought it would.

So, what I really want to write about is overwhelming homesickness and the absolute stress of making your way in a city when you have nothing to rely on.  When the streets are backwards, the cars are backwards, the GPS doesn't work and you feel like you just want to start walking until you get home....

But, what I should be writing about today is the fantastically dry Aussie sense of humor...

There is a rental book that we got when we moved into our apartment and it is a perfect example of things that you would never see in the states... 

On the page entitled "Fire and Other Hazards":

"Burning the apartment down will probably ruin your stay"

"Please refrain from smoking near the fire sprinklers unless you wish to have a shower at the same time"

So, yea - there's lots to laugh at.  Thank goodness; because there are days when I really need to laugh!

The Second & Third Day

Well, Saturday was a ton of fun.  Our new friends Scott and Tracy came and picked us up at our apartment and took us back out to Manly to meet a friend of theirs and to see his apartment.  We got a good idea of what Manly real estate was like and we definitely decided to expand our search out there. We had lunch at a little cafe where I asked for an ice water with lemon.  Apparently that is a very foreign concept there - I caused some confusion!  The waitress kept asking me, "You want a plain water with ice and a slice of lemon in it?  You want the lemon right in the water?"  Oh boy....

Joe and I love Manly - the beach is really breathtaking.  When we got back to their house, Tracy and I spent some time looking on-line for apartments in Manly and we found some really great ones.  Joe has really taken the proverbial real estate bull by the horns and has been scheduling viewings left and right.  We saw a very very horrifying apartment downtown today.  Ugh - hopefully the ones in the suburbs will be nicer.

We ended up staying at Scott and Tracy's for dinner (yummy steaks) and overnight (heaven to sleep in a bed that didn't feel like a sack of rocks).  We went to their son's ice hockey game early the next morning and then headed off to Hillsong for worship.  What an incredible church!  Joe and I loved it and we will definitely be going back.

After church, we had Scott and Tracy drop us at the train station.  I was quite proud of us - we figured out how to buy tickets from the automated machine, how to read the maps and figure out which line and exchange we needed and how to switch trains to get back to Circular Quay (pronounced key....weird...)

We got back safe and sound just in time for some dinner and bed.

Monday (today still) was a boring, horrible but necessary day.  Boring in the sense that we caught up on shopping, Joe scheduled apartment viewings and I did laundry.  Horrible in the sense that we realized that we left Joe's garment bag in the taxi and they said they didnt' have it.  So, we are missing a couple suits, vests, suit pants, sport coats and every tie that Joe owns (many that were brand new that we bought right before we left).  So.... we have to make a big expensive shopping trip this week before he starts work.  Major sad face here people.

I am realizing that homesickness is like grief.  When things are going great it is easy to push aside the sadness to focus on the wonderful things in front of you.  When things get hard, sad or stressful; the sadness bubbles up under everything.  It makes it really difficult to ignore.  I had wine with dinner and that seems to only have compounded the problem.  I'm ok, I'm still excited about being here - just sad tonight...

The Last Day

Today was full of lasts:

Last Pedicure at V-Spa nails - went with my Mother-in-law, got polka dots, fun for all...

Last shopping trip to Kroger - Quick, sad...

Last American money spent - at Kroger, a buck fifty from the bottom of my purse.  Now all I have left is Aussie money.

Last day of occupancy in my home house - sweaty, exhausting and not as sad as I thought it would be.

Last time driving a car on the right side of the road (or at all since we aren't planning to buy one in Australia) - freeing... worried about the whole relying on public transit thing.

Last time I made payments on some bills - making the final payment on stuff is the best feeling in the world!

Last prescription filled in the states (without insurance) - very expensive!!

Last dinner sitting around with Mom and Dad - Yummy wild turkey tenders, bittersweet.

Last trip to Graeter's  - Sweet, funny.

Well, the clothes are laid out, the suitcases are packed and I don't think I could be any more prepared if I had another week.  I'm not sure if we are ready; but we certainly are prepared!  Please pray for safe travels for us over the next three days (that even sounds insane doesn't it?) and hopefully I'll have an update once we land!

The Mentality of Moving

It's one in the morning here in Kentucky so technically I am writing this on Tuesday.  That means that we leave for Australia tomorrow. 

It's hard to describe how I feel about this whole thing.  "Unreal" might be a good word?  There is a numbness that is protecting me from the intense emotions that a move this big must have attached to it.  It probably helps that we have been so incredibly busy getting ready for the move.  We start early and roll into bed late, exhausted.  The reality of this move is all around me - we are staying at my in laws, I give the keys to the our renters today, there are 5 very large suitcases by the front door, we have an actual address in Sydney, we have 2 actual phone numbers in Sydney and we leave tomorrow.

It feels a little like going on a very long vacation and I don't know how long it is going to take once we are there before the reality of the move will hit me...

This is the Last Night in our Home

This is the last night in our home
This is the last night in our home
This is the last night in our home
This is the last night in our home
This is the last night in our home

Unfortunately, saying it over and over doesn't make it feel any more real...

Of all the things about moving to another continent, another country – the thing that is bothering me the most right now is leaving my house. I love the transformation that takes place as you live somewhere. You begin by needing to try every light switch before you find the right one, waking up to all the creaks and noises a house makes when it settles down for the night and feeling like a stranger inside of the unfamiliar walls. There is always a moment (invariably in the middle of the night) when you realize that you have just gone to the bathroom, gotten a new roll of toilet paper from the linen closet, let the dog out, got a drink in the kitchen and straightened all the cushions in the living room all completely in the dark. You know this place – every creak on every stair, every oddly shaped shadow… You have a moment where you acknowledge that your house just became your home.

I’ve lived in many places throughout my life. I lived in a dining room with curtains for door, I slept in an armchair for a couple weeks and I have even slept in my car. Even though I’ve moved a dozen times and had multiple apartments/living arrangements, I have only ever had two “homes”. My childhood home held a million happy memories – even the trees in the woods had special stories and memories attached to them. After Mom died and we had to sell the house, I was able to visit it for one last time. It was completely empty and it had been repainted. I felt very little sadness walking through each room… It was just a shell - just a house. Once you took my parents and their things out of that house it ceased to be a home.

I was immediately on a mission to recreate that feeling of history, that feeling of roots dug deep. I was only 24 when I closed on my house. I walked into that conference room with a fresh pen and proceeded to sign my name over and over on what felt like hundreds of papers. It was the most important thing I had done in my life up to that point. (Soon to be eclipsed by getting married) This home was filled with a mix of mine, his, my parents, his parents and mostly ours. It’s been very very hard seeing our things sold, packed and given away. The rooms are eerily empty and I am starting to not recognize my home anymore.

It’s equally hard (if not harder) to imagine other people’s things in places where mine always were. What I have always referred to as the “back bedroom” was always meant for a nursery. Every time I walked into that room I pictured a crib, a rocker, a baby… Someone else is turning that room into a nursery for their little baby now and when I walk in I feel an absolute sadness.

Maybe it’s time to just start thinking of it as just a house again… instead of My Home…

To Help me Remember

Well, my fabulously thoughtful sister Annmarie sent me this photo frame before the movers came.  I packed it in with the rest of our pictures so that I can look at it in Australia when I am feeling super homesick.  I am so thankful for such a lovely family who cares about me so much!  I cant decide which of the photos I like the best; but the one of my nephew Ben, dressed as a cowboy in only his unders is really topping the list!!  Thanks Annie - I appreciate this more than you will ever know!

A Pin from Perth

A couple of weeks ago I was talking to my Aunt on the phone and she mentioned that my Grandfather was interested in reading my blog as he has spent his R & R time in Perth during the war.  My Grandfather (we call him Coach) served in the U.S Navy as an Engineering Commander on a submarine during World War II.  He was inducted into the Veterans Hall of Fame in 2002.  He also received the Silver Helmet Award which is awarded for excellence and outstanding accomplishment in the fields of Americanism, defense, rehabilitation, congressional and civil service.  He was also awarded 2 Silver Stars and 1 Bronze Star.

He left for war after he and my grandmother were married; and while he was gone, my mom Denise and her twin Diane were born.  I never knew that he spent time in Australia during the war until my Aunt told me the other night....  Completely by coincidence, I was packing my jewelry that night when I got to my drawer of sentimental jewelry.  I store my Mom's things in this drawer and I spent some extra time (as I always do) touching them and remembering her.  I've always loved the pin pictured above - maybe because it has her name on it or maybe because it is just so pretty.  I flipped it over and looked at the latch and the hinges and I noticed something written on the back of it.  I took it into the light and look what I found!  My Mom's twin Diane still has hers as well and told me that Coach got these for them in Australia for their first birthday.

So, here I am.... I've never thought about Australia one way or another.  Out of nowhere, we decide to move there.  Suddenly I find in my possession something from Perth, made in Australia sixty six years ago.  I am just blown away by how wonderful this is!

Memorial Day

I realized this Memorial Day that it was the last one I will be celebrating in the States for a while...  I don't think you truly understand how patriotic you are until you are faced with leaving your country.  At a baseball game the other night, I cried my way through the Star Spangled Banner as I realized that I would be hearing a very different national anthem from here on out. 

Maybe it was that sense of melancholy that effected my whole day? Regardless, I really struggled through a day filled with lots of stress, fear and sadness.  I very sharply felt my parent's absence more that day than most.

So, I turned to cooking and made a fabulous red white & blue pie.  The blue was provided by the blackberries, the red by the strawberries/raspberries and the scoop of vanilla ice cream on top was the white.  Quite festive and tasty!  Made me feel lots better to be baking in my kitchen.... Another thing I won't be doing too much longer.


72 Hours...

...Until the movers arrive!  I think I am officially starting to have some mini-freak-outs.  My newest fear is that we won't be able to fit all of our stuff into the space we were quoted on; and we will either have to leave mass quantities behind or we will end up paying thousands more than we have budgeted.

I've stocked up in everything that is advised on all of the ex-pat forums and I feel like we have enough stuff to get us up and running pretty easily.  We'll have quite a bit of furniture to buy once we get there, so I'll have my work cut out for me as far as shopping/bargain hunting is concerned.  We are eating off of paper plates and plastic utensils - the house is getting so barren that I can hear an echo when I talk...  This whole process is so surreal!

Visit to Cleveland - Monday

Monday was a subdued, sad morning as I packed up and got ready for the trip back.  We made plans to meet our friend Julie in Columbus for lunch at 2 so we had to leave Cleveland by noon. Theresa came over with the kids to say goodbye (but not for good as she will be in Cincinnati to see us before we leave) so I got a chance to give everyone hugs goodbye!  Plus I got to watch Evan have his morning AppleJacks - Yum!












































My sister Julie's daughter Gianna had told her mom that morning how sad she was that she didn't get to say a final goodbye to us (We came in late the night before and she had already gone to school when we woke up) so we decided to stop at her school and say goodbye to her before we got on the road.  When I hugged Julie goodbye, I realized I wouldn't be seeing her till Christmas and that this was really goodbye.  The tears started and the situation didn't improve much once we got to Gianna's school.  I was doing OK until I realized that Gianna's little eyes were tearing up a bit and then the tears hit again. I'm still not sure how I made it out of the building; but my poor husband had to put up with my sniffling halfway to Columbus.

We met up with Julie at Buca di Beppo (I had never been there and I was surprised at how yummy it was) and having lunch with her made me feel lots better.  I made her promise that she would visit us in Australia next year and I am holding her to it!  This is us after I spent the morning crying and after 2 glasses of wine:



The rest of the trip was pretty uneventful.  We rolled into Joe's parent's house around 6:30 where I promptly fell asleep on the couch till dinner.  Then home, with the doggy, to unpack and get ready for the week.
This is the doggy for those of you who haven't met him:



It was really a great trip and I am so glad that we made the time to go for four days.  It was horribly sad at the end and I dont' think that I am quite over the reality of having to say goodbye; but I still had a wonderful time...

Pre-Homesickness?

Joe and I went to Cleveland this past weekend to visit with and say good bye to family and friends.  There will be more in-depth description and pictures of the weekend coming as I get the photos sorted out.

I don't think that the idea of us moving to a foreign country has entirely sunk in for me.  I think about it... I talk about it; but I don't think I really understand what we are doing.  This weekend brought reality right to my door as I said goodbye to people that I probably won't be seeing for years. I left Cleveland in a flurry of tears that lasted almost to Columbus.  In my head I kept asking myself "Why are we doing this?"

When I talk about my sadness, people are fond of telling me "At least this isn't forever". Of course I know it isn't forever!  For goodness sake, Joe and I are planning a visit back to the States for the Christmas holidays.  Knowing that I will still see people doesn't make me feel any better though.  I'm still sad....

I think I will call this pre-homesickness....
abcs