A Bereavement

All two or three of my long-time readers will recall my posts about my Dad and his idiosyncracies. Well, on Sunday he let loose with another zinger.

"Hey Dad! I missed your call?"
"Hey Aims! How are you? Good weekend?"
"Great thanks! Just been at a BBQ with pals."
"Oh lovely. Listen, Mum died last night. Do you want to come over for dinner?"

By Mum, he means my Grandmother, who I wrote about a while ago, after she broke her hip in a fall. She was 93.

All joking aside, this is very much The Family Way. We don't show emotion and we don't cry or, God forbid, talk about our feelings. Funnily enough I feel like I've been adopted at birth, because I love a good cry, and am always analysing things and talking about how I feel with friends. My mother just worries that my workplace will get mad because I'll be taking the day off to go to Grandma's funeral. At her own mother's funeral she watched my Aunt go to touch the coffin and break down in tears, so she refused to go. I was all, Mum, it's OKAY TO CRY. But, it's her way. And Dad and his brother are the same.

So getting to Grandma's house on Sunday and seeing Dad in tears for a wee bit was very hard. We sat around and looked at photo albums and cuttings that she'd collected, and I cried a bit over finding an envelope of my late Aunt's hair, collected at her first ever haircut. She died in her early 40's of cancer.

Our family on Dad's side is very small, with my Uncle and Aunt never marrying, and Dad only producing my sister and me. So the arrangements have fallen to Dad and my Uncle. Being men, they don't realise that neighbours WANT to come around and drop off food and stay for a natter and tell you about their stories with Grandma. That they are grieving too. So yesterday I took myself around there and got rid of all the "sick" things - her walker, the awful toilet chair contraption, her boxes of tissues and masses of pills. I made the house look like Grandma again and did a heck of a lot of cleaning. 93 year old eyes miss things. It was very cathartic. I found a prayer book belonging to my namesake, Grandma's mother, that had been presented to her "by the Church of England upon the occasion of her marriage, 1915." I found my Aunt's photos and slides of her travels in the 60's, where she looks like a fashion icon. I found photos of my Grandmother done up to the nines off to war-time dances and dinners. I felt like I had never known this person. The Grandma I knew wore trousers and jackets and awful sun hats and had a bit of a temper.

We're hosting a wake there after the funeral so I'll make sure everyone has a napkin and there's some nice music on and enough loo paper and all those things that simply don't occur to men. I'm going to display all the lovely old photos around the room so those who also met her later in her life can see what she was really like.

What was bizarre was me checking my messages this morning after a hectic weekend. First to come up was from Friday night, and it was from Grandma. She wanted to talk to someone "who was out there and living life. Someone young!" she said. I didn't even notice the missed call and rarely check my voicemail, preferring to just call the person back. But this time, I didn't. Am finding it very hard to come to terms with the sadness and disappointment in her voice. Mum says there's nothing I can do about it now and don't beat myself up.

Easier said than done.

Crisis

Just to top off our most awesome week, Basil has gone missing. We were keeping him inside until he got used to his new home, which he wasn't happy about at all. He found a gap and shot through, and hasn't been seen all morning. Our new house is surrounded by bush, water, other houses and strange cats and dogs, so finding his way back will be a mission.
Times I think I'm ready to have kids, but if I feel like this for a CAT, imagine how it must be for a parent when their child is missing/sick/leaving home.
I can't concentrate and all I can think of is his little paws picking their way around unfamiliar territory. Shudder. Rich is doorknocking and I've got some fliers to put in mailboxes. Cross your fingers for us.

Lower than the Low

Note: before I continue this mega-rant, may I just say that a lot of my friends are recruitment agents, and they are all lovely, lovely people. This is not directed at anyone personally. Just those bastards who have been dealing with my man.

So. Things are going well for me. However not so for my lovely other half. Rich has been touting his wares around all the recruitment agencies in Auckland, informing of his availablity for work. Rich is one of those guys who, whenever anyone meets him, they ALWAYS come back saying wow, that is a really Good Guy. He's smiley, happy, friendly, polite and absolutely hilarious.
The amount of times he's presented at a recruitment office to be told "sorry we're busy, sorry we've got nothing right now" etc is terrible. It kills him to keep that smile pasted on, keep his positivity up.
After no contact for weeks, suddenly the Agent From Hell will call.

AFH: "OMG! I have the most perfect job in the world for you! I'm actually calling on my lunchbreak to show you how much I think you are perfect for this role!"

Rich: "Wow! Cool! What is it?"
AFH: "It's (a perfect job)"

Rich: "That's incredible - I'd be great at that !"

AFH: "I KNOW! I'm going to put you forward. In fact, I'm going to tell them you're top of the list. Richard this job comes with a car! And a phone! And all these other things I'm going to blind you with so that you believe me when I say it's the perfect job!"

Rich: "I like cars! And phones are great! This company is the best in the world!"

AFH: "You're meeting with them first thing Monday morning. I kinda have to put other people forward as well, but you're definitely first on the list."

Rich: "Thank you so much. You don't know what this means to me."

AFH: "Well, I do like to think of myself as Jesus Christ, so I'm very humble"

The interview happens, and goes okay. Rich is hesitant.

AFH: "What did you think!!!!"

Rich: "I don't think it was that good. They interrupted me a few times. It was a really tough interview."

AFH: "Are you kidding!!! They LOVED you! They wanted to see how well you'd go under pressure and they said you were brilliant!"

Rich: "REALLY? God I thought I was awful!"

AFH: "Not at all. In fact, you're top of the list. They just need to sort some things out at their end and see the other candidates. But like I say...top of the list...."

Rich: "Awesome! Again, thank you so much! I owe you my firstborn!"

Days go by. Texts are received confirming how awesome Rich is from the AFH. They are received by the hiring company, confirming they will be back to him soon. Rich starts planning the commute to the office.

AFH: "Rich, hello."

Rich: "Oh hey! How are you? Do you have some news?"

AFH: "Uh....yeah. I'm sorry to say you didn't get the job."

Rich: "....oh. Wow. Okay. Why not?"

AFH: "*lists a hundred and one stupid reasons as to why he didn't get the job, none of them true*

Rich: "Okay. Well, thank you for your help anyway. Do you have anything else that's goin-"

AFH: "Rightsowe'llbeintouch, thanks"

Rich: deflates like a balloon.

It seriously kills me to see him like this. He's an upstanding, go-getter kind of guy who has been working Hard since he was 17 years old. The disappointment in his voice makes me want to find these recruitment agents, who built him up so much that his fall is just that much harder, and ram their stupid little cliche sayings and fake natures down their stupid little throats. Whatever happened to honesty? Here are some things they should say instead.
"We're putting you forward for the interview"
"They were happy with your presentation but please wait for a decision before getting too excited and continue with your job hunting"
"I"m sorry. I'm just a twat with a business card and really huge ego. I have no people skills and in no way I should be building you up and telling you you've got the job when it's not my decision to make. I'm going to quit and become a job-seeker Just Like You, so I can really see what it's like."

I've got to go home tonight, and instead of being all excited about moving into our great new flat in Auckland, I'll be pouring beer down Rich's throat and listening to his worries. It's what I do and I'm happy to do it. But seriously. If you work in recruiting, think about what I've said. You are messing with people's lives here.

And lo, she arose

Internet, does life EVER slow down? Is it ever boring, routine-filled, and stress-free? Judging from the last couple of months, I'm going to say "no".

Things that have happened to me in the last few weeks.

• Boyfriend has moved into house! All is going well. Basil has taken to sharing the bed like the trooper he is. I am most enjoying having the rubbish put out for me. AND, this one time, he even emptied the dishwasher WITHOUT BEING ASKED. I know. He's a keeper. He, in the meantime, has clockwork meals, clean undies and a great big shed to fill with man toys. I think it's a win-win situation.
  
• Best friends' baby girl born! Little Georgia Rose is a special little bunny...she and I had cuddles last time we were in Auckland. Her parents are my two eldest friends and we used to hang out in nappies. To be holding their new baby was a surreal moment. Here is pic of me and Georgia. I look kinda drunk, but seriously, I'm not.... much.

• Last but not least, I have just found out that my position here at my work has been downgraded to part-time! So if I want, I can work 5 weeks out of every quarter! Unsurprisingly, my mortgage and psyche don't agree with that and I'm now in the position of looking for work during one of the worst unemployment periods in recent years. While I hold no grudge against my workplace as they've been told to cut costs and they're doing it - I do hold a grudge against bloody Wall Street fat cats who caused all this. Grrr. Fear my wrath. Fear it!

So that's basically me. Lots of other things happened, you know, my hair grew, I read some books, but nothing too spectacular. How about yourselves?

Two halves of a whole

I'm not sure why, but the tragedy of Mark Speight's death has really hit me hard. Maybe it's because it says something about how although your family and friends can be there for you, and you can be in therapy, sometimes things happen that are just so awful you can't deal with life any longer.
I cannot imagine what was going through his mind every day, just as I shudder to think of the sick horror he felt when discovering his fiancee's lifeless body in their bathroom. When I read in the Mail that he had gone missing, I really dreaded the final outcome. But if someone ever needs a good reason to commit suicide, I guess the guilt he felt, along with the searing loss of his lover, would be as good as any. I just REALLY hate the idea of how bloody awful he must have been feeling in the last few weeks. Although I often feel bad, I haven't been hit by tragedy yet (wood being touched) and I am a little bit scared of how Bad bad must feel.

Fearfully grumpy

Sorry for having been gone for so long. I have not been in the greatest frame of mind due to the stress of work (see previous post) and have been doing far too much drowning of my sorrows.
It has got so bad that today I sit here with the flu, a mouth ulcer, a sore throat, cracked lips that are threatening to turn into impetigo and one great big grumpy ass mood.
I guess the fact that Valentine's Day is right around the corner also has me a bit depressed. Although I saw an ad on the telly last night for an Ink Jet printer "to surprise her with for Valentine's Day!". If someone gave me one of those for V Day they would get a punch in the mouth. What's wrong with a red rose? Honestly.
Sorry for the grumps. If anyone has a funny joke or pic, please feel free to forward.

RIP Heath Ledger

One of my favourite actors - for Monster's Ball and Brokeback Mountain. I spent most of my 2 years in Perth constantly on the lookout for him. What a tragedy.

Get a cup of tea for this one

To say that the weekend just been was exhausting would be to gloss over how bone-crushingly tired I ended up yesterday evening, necessitating in a bedtime of 7:30pm, which, with daylight savings still going strong, meant I pulled the curtains to shut out the sun.
As previously mentioned, the weekend was spent in Auckland, and I had quite forgotten how spending money there comes as naturally as breathing. My monthly budget is now completely screwed. But! There is always an upside to spending money, you have heaps of fun doing so.
Friday night saw me fly into Aucks at the speed of ...... 120km/h - the Red Rocket performed beautifully up over the Bombay Hills and delivered me to a beautiful Italian restaurant in St Heliers where my friends and I had a hilarious dinner and much banter was delivered. Sample conversation:
"Dude, when you read the menu, do you just hand it back to the waitress and say 'I'll have it thanks'?"
We headed back to their house and spent a lovely summer's night on the deck swatting mozzies and drinking Sauvignon.
Saturday morning I was enjoying a nice sleep in, when it was GET UP! time at the unholy hour of 8am, as it was birthday present opening time for Sarah. I ran into their room screaming MERRY CHRISTMAS! We all jumped into bed together - 5 of us - and for a moment we all forgot we were nearing 30 and had 2 weddings and 2 kids between us all. Sarah loved the nail polish I got her. I'm a bit obsessed with nail polish at the moment aren't I?
Brunch took us to La Vista in St Heliers, which was super awesome, and Sarah had a birthday brekkie of mince of toast with a fried egg. I was all, hmmm, but when it came out I had plate envy something chronic. Although my french toast with the usual banana bacon maple syrup was so delicious and very very naughty. I highly recommend this cafe if you are ever in St Heliers.
It was a mega hot day so we retired back home to sit on sun loungers with mags, and glasses of bubbly. Cam and I poured Sarah one, and being without strawberries, put a cherry tomato in there. I informed her of this fact about half an hour later.
Cam had organised a surprise lunch for Sarah at a restaurant in Parnell, and here, people, is where the great day came to a crashing great halt around my ears.
We were at a lovely outdoor table munching calamari and sipping beers, and were commenting on how great the service was. We all expressed surprise at this, because this restaurant is not known for its great service. Me being me, outdoes everyone elses gripes with a tale of my own.
"I was here with Mum and Lauren, and we ordered some calamari and wine." (This all said in a voice at approximately 2000 decibels).
"We had a couple of glasses and then Mum had to leave to catch a flight. She paid for the calamari and wine, and left. Lauren and I stayed on and had a couple more wines." Everyone is nodding sagely and going, of course, you and Loz, wine quaffers from way back.
"We decided to head home, and got up to pay for our drinks to the lady owner behind the counter. Imagine our surprise when we see the calamari on the bill. I question this, and say my mother paid for this when she left. The lady disagrees with me, and I am a bit taken aback. I say, well she specifically came back to tell us so, and was dealing with that guy behind the bar. She then says, well he must have pocketed the money because it's not showing on the receipts." Indignant comments are echoing around the table, along the lines of, isn't the customer always right? and, it's not your problem if the staff are dishonest.
"I say to her well I'm not paying for it twice and I'll get my mother to call you if you like to sort it out. She humphs and lets us go. And I haven't been back since till today."
Everyone is nodding and saying good on you, yeah she's nasty etc etc when all of a sudden it happens. A lady at the next table is slowly getting up - leaving half her lunch - and walking quickly into the restaurant. One of our guys goes, oh, that's her, that's the lady. And it was. She was obviously on her day off, enjoying a lunch with friends at her restaurant. And they had all heard everything.
The ironic thing was, I had just been discussing with Sarah that morning that I thought I gossiped too much, and was going to try and stop. Talk about learning the hard way. I felt like absolute shit for a couple of hours and needed a Gloriax to stop stressing out - and am still really pissed at myself. But who knows, she may have needed a wake up call - I certainly wasn't the only one with a bad experience with her - but nobody likes overhearing gossip about themselves.
I perked up when we left the restaurant - 3 interminable hours later - and headed to Lizzie's place for a couple of drinks before the concert. We were able to walk to the concert from there, and got there as Fergie was halfway through her show. Not that we watched it, because we were too busy lining up for beers. Imagine our surprise when we discovered that they had stopped selling booze at 8:30pm (!!!!) and had also run out of water (!!!!!!!!!!). We decided that it was fate that there's no booze, meaning we won't be hungover the next day. So we arming ourselves with disgusting Pepsi we headed back to our seats. Who should we bump into but our future Prime Minister, Mr John Key. He was more than happy to listen to us rave about why we'd vote him in (namely, because we hate Helen Clark) and we watched him about 10 minutes later dancing so badly it was almost cool.
The Police got started, and man they were good. Real musicians if you know what I mean. I especially liked the drummer dude. BUT! And there's always a but. 2 songs into the concert, we're standing on our chairs, bopping away, when I realise that my arm feels a lot lighter. I then realise that my watch is gone. My brand new, Calvin Klein, arm-and-a-leg watch, is no longer on my wrist. I grab Sarah's arm and make I'm-dying, please-help-me faces. She, being Sarah, is very straight up, and says it's either under your seat, at Lizzie's house or never to be seen again.
I am on the verge of losing it entirely, having already had a shitter of an experience, so after wildly looking under our chairs in amongst the jandals and toes and chair legs and bottles, I reach into my bag to get a calming cigarette. What should I find, but my watch.
To say that I had a epiphany would be to understate it. I actually had to sit down. I am not, I repeat NOT, a lucky person. For my watch to have fallen off INTO MY OWN HANDBAG was something I could not comprehend. I babbled to Sarah that I had found God, he must be looking after me, and she's patting me on the back and laughing. I rave that even after I ruin someone's day by gossiping, someone up there still likes me enough so that I don't lose my treasured watch.
After zipping it into a pocket in my bag and tying the bag to my leg I get back into the concert and have a ball.
We headed straight home afterwards, and while everyone else went straight to bed (bloody couples!!!) I sat up on the deck looking at the moon and listening to the crickets, having a frosty cold beer. What a day. Life lessons learned, fun was had, money was spent, music was enjoyed. What more could you want?

A little bit of a rant

The lack of good service in NZ has been in the spotlight recently, what with this particular episode of Christmas cheer resulting in front page news.
In my fairly decent experience of retail (and when you think about it, every single job there is comes down to retail) I followed the maxim that The Customer Is Always Right. The article I just linked to shows how a retailer can let her arrogance and snobbery get in the way of making just one small customer happy, and therefore alienates an entire community of people who otherwise would never have heard of her.
So today I was most unhappy when I scooted out of work to meet a locksmith at home and get some quotes done. 1pm they said yesterday, and of course we'll call if he can't make it on time.
So it gets to twenty past, and with no sign of him, I ring them. The guy covers the phone with his hand to ask his manager where my guy is, and I hear the manager say "he's probably forgotten all about it." He comes back, and goes "he's been held up at another job."
So I tell him that I only get an hour for lunch, I can't wait all day. He comes back and says he can be there at 2. I say sorry, I have to be back at work at 1:30. And why didn't someone call me to say he'd be late so I didn't have to leave work?
I get one "Sorry", one offer to re-schedule (as if!) and no argument when I don't.
Why is it that tradespeople are so lazy with their time-keeping? It should be an inherent part of their business practice...to be on time or to inform you if they'll be late. It was a complete waste of time, petrol, and caused my happy face to be replaced by my frowny face. AND if I get broken into tonight because of my piddly locks on my french doors, it'll be ALL THEIR FAULT.
I feel for my mother, who is about to build a new house, and will be having moments like these every single day with all the hundreds of tradespeople...from tilers to drapers to plumbers to pool men. Shudder.
If you're a tradesperson, let me know your views and prove me wrong.

Rant rant rant.

I'm sensing somewhat of a pattern here. I start the week in a monstrously bad mood....then by the end of the week I'm all fine again. It's like that Snoopy cartoon, you know the one where from Monday to Thursday he's on top of his doghouse looking grumpy, then on Friday his ears perk up, then Saturday and Sunday he's doing his Snoopy dance. I would post it but have just spent ten minutes searching for it and it's nowhere to be found.
Anyhoo Tuesday 17th of July hasn't started well.....the traffic into work this morning was appalling and our little car pool group were all late for work. Then I find that the new desk I was given yesterday has been taken off me for the day due to technology issues and I'm back in my broom closet. Plus all the work I left in perfect order had been chucked to the side and is now in a big mess. Then my eczema has returned with a vengeance due to the cold weather so I am all red-faced, red-eyed and constantly scratching. You're probably thinking jeez, this girl Always has something wrong with her! But seriously....the last few weeks have been a doozy that's for sure. I think it must be all the stress of moving.
Oh yeah and last night, my grandmother very kindly rang to tell me she saw my ex on TV last night being interviewed at a curling competition in Central Otago where it was minus 12 yesterday. "He was such a handsome lad. What went wrong there?" Um dead and buried Grandma and I'd appreciate you not bringing it up thankyouverymuch.
Bah. So anyway...I feel somewhat better.
Positive things to note!

• I got paid today and for once don't owe anyone any money
• There will always be Chicken Noodle cup of soups
• Date Man doesn't snore.

Rargh

Today I am like a bear with a sore paw. Not having ever seen a bear with a sore paw however, I can't be sure.

You know how you have those days where everything is just Shite, and nothing can cheer you up? Hey, I hear they call that depression! You don't say.

Had a bad sleep on Sunday night, so spent yesterday looking forward to a luxurious 10 hour sleep in my new feet pyjamas. Yes they are incredibly flattering. BUT first the dinner I cooked turned out yuk. Then the Simpsons episode was the stamp museum one where Lisa can't sleep on her own (Worst. Episode. Ever). Then Antiques Roadshow was boring. So I went to bed. Then I read some of Stasiland by Anna Funder which is a bloody good book, but gave me bad dreams of being in the Holocaust and being hunted (does anyone else have these dreams? I get them all the time). Then I woke up at 2 with a roaring ear infection. Then had to wait for the Nurofen to kick in. Then I had a restless sleep till 7 where I had to get up and come to work where everyone is grumpy because nothing is going right and it's 6 degrees outside and windy and raining and freeeeezing and all I want to do is get in a plane and fly to a deserted beach and lie there ALL BY MYSELF.


You get the picture?


The only thing that has made me laugh today is this:

Let's all cross fingers and hope for a better day tomorrow.

Ouch

So today I am in the sixth day of battling the mouth ulcer to end all ulcers.

It looks something like this:

And is so so painful. It is causing pain all down my neck, and in my teeth. I can't open my mouth wide, or eat acidic things, or brush with toothpaste. As a result my breath smells Really Super Awesome.

I have tried putting salt directly on it (felt like I had just hammered a rusty nail into my jaw) gargled with saline (nada) Bonjela (double nada) and have put a throat lozenge directly on the ulcer (this helped somewhat). I have had this ulcer for so long that I have forgotten what it's like to not have it.

Stupidly, I googled it and of course came up with the diagnosis of Mouth Cancer from all those years of smoking cigarettes. Horror horror. Has anyone got any other good home remedies or similar stories so I don't feel so bad?

UPDATE: ulcer has nearly gone, but in its place is a sore throat that is like swallowing mouthfuls of broken glass. What's next???

Victim Statement

This morning I got up before dawn to make the trip to Tauranga for work. At the moment I am dossing in my parent's apartment in town as my flattie and I are between flats. So my car was SUPPOSEDLY in a secure carpark.
I got to my car, and found the doors unlocked. Someone had stolen pretty much everything from inside. This may not sound like much, but unfortunately for me, I had moved in the weekend, and had used my car as a storage place. The items that the thieves stole have got NO VALUE to them, yet are priceless to me.

• A print of Katherine Mansfield by Anne Estelle Rice, that my sister had framed for me for Christmas a few years ago. KM is our second cousin and her stories are special to our family.
• A print of Rozzie at Pisa by Grahame Sydney, my all time favourite painting that I had coveted for years until Mum had it framed for me for my birthday last year.
• Framed photos of a trip James and I made to the yellow eyed penguins in Moeraki last year that are no longer on my memory card and were my first effort at "proper" photography. They are also an endangered species so was hoping to keep these photos in the family.
• My Sony Discman, that I bought in 2000, and has to be the most reliable piece of technology I have ever owned. My radio doesn't work in my car, so I had to listen to my own rage the whole way down.
• A CD that Lizzie had made for me that was full of songs that we had thrashed one boozy night out.
• My George Michael CD. You do NOT want to get between me and George Michael. I love him.
• A little kit of car cleaning products that my parents had lovingly put together for me last time I visited them.

All of these things are worth about $20 retail in NZ. Yet to me they were so important....I imagine they have been scattered on the road somewhere in Auckland looking like worthless junk.

Hopefully soon I'll come to terms with losing what really are just material possessions but right now it just seems UNFAIR.

A discussion on why I like Winter

I whinge just as much as the next person when daylight savings ends and the coats get dragged out of the hall closet - but secretly I am loving it.
Winter to me encompasses all my favourite things...roaring fires, crisp cold days, walks in the park kicking the leaves around, comfort food, woolly jersies and cats snuggled on your lap. Is there anything more fun? Yes I am a secret Nana at heart.
For some reason winter always reminds me of childhood....lying in front of the fire reading the latest Babysitter's Club - never far away from a bowl of Sour Cream and Chives O'Ryans....listening to Hawkes Bay play Wairarapa Bush (and losing probably) with Dad, who would be sipping on a Steinlager.
I am looking forward to the day when I can enjoy winter days with my own wee family!

Thoughts on a common illness

So throughout my trip around South America my battle with depression and anxiety came back to bite me on the ass a couple of times.
I have had it under control pretty well lately what with good meds and some excellent therapy.
However traveling for me brings it all back, the lack of a comfort zone, the uncertainty, the lack of routine and it makes me all a bit fearful and stressed, which is hard to control still.
Dealing with someone who didn't know me very well while I was going through this really opened my eyes. I try to explain a panic attack to people to be rather like an asthma attack – certain situations will bring it on (for me, being in a crowd, feeling nauseous in a public place, turbulence etc) – and that there's nothing to be done until it passes. For those who don't know what a panic attack is like, for me I go really cold, I just want to get out of wherever I am, my heart beats really fast and your mouth goes dry. Afterwards you are utterly exhausted and just want to sleep.
I had around 3 panic attacks while we were away and spent most of the time going to all efforts to avoid more.
My traveling partner could not understand this at all. After one particularly nasty one he said he was freaked out by the whole thing and couldn't handle it. He didn't want to have to deal with it.
This really made me think. I can't help the fact that this happens to me. I will probably deal with it my entire life. I had always been very open around him about this problem. I can't really understand that this sort of thinking still goes on. I respect his honesty that he said it does freak him out and I could definitely see why. But it worries me as do I from now on have to keep it a secret from future partners? Or will other people be more understanding? It is another thing to worry about.
Your thoughts and comments would be appreciated.
Aims x

Smiling on the Outside

So here I am back in Auckland. It is quite a weird feeling considering how stoked I was to be leaving. I had said goodbye to all my favourite things and friends, and was anticipating never having to battle Auckland motorways and Queen Street again. You just never can tell what will happen huh.
So my friends have all been super awesome as usual and kept me busy. Jet lag has knocked me for six though and have been spending most nights wide awake watching CNN. Was amazed to see Prince William and Kate have broken up, I thought I should ring her to commiserate, you know, share the pain.
Have found a flat in Ponsonby with my friend's brother which will be super good times, he is a top guy and the house is beautiful so that is a relief. Have a meeting at my old work today to see if can be placed there so have all fingers and toes crossed for that. Funny how things seem to fall into place BUT I WISH THEY DIDN'T HAVE TO. I was really looking forward to being on the farm...but not meant to be. Ah well.
Heading to the Bay tomorrow for some time out with Mum and Colin. All I want to do is lie on the couch with my head in her lap and have her pat my head. Mums are good times.
Anyhoo! Will post again when I am far more cheery. Aims x

A cheery note!

So it turns out that in Auckland Jimmy and I will be parting ways. As a couple we are just not very suited, certainly not for long term. But you have to take risks and we have had a great month in South America and while break ups are not nice, a long term unhappy relationship is worse.
So I will be chillaxing with my family for a bit and I promise to not be ranting and unhappy, and I have a lovely new niece or nephew to look forward to which is awesome.Next step: choosing where to live and finding a flat/job, and getting back into it. Or maybe I'll keep travelling. Who knows?

Chernobyl 28th Feb 07

So I am nearing a meltdown with all that's going on.....in fact am quite proud of myself that I haven't say, shaved my head and had a breakdown like Some People.....but am sure it's not far away. What with....packing my house, organising storage, finishing up work (and the market crashing at the same time), leaving do's, family do's, organising movers to Ranfurly, organising accommodation and cash for S.A, getting the perfect book for the plane (you know, Important Stuff) it's a wonder I can sleep at night. Bring on the 13th. Jimmy and I are both so tired we'll probably have one glass of champers and then drool on each others shoulders for the whole flight. And miss Friends dubbed in Spanish? I hope not!
On another note, am not very nostalgic at the end of summer...I certainly had my fill of lovely sunbathing and singlets....I won't miss those annoying mozzies at night that's for sure. One bit me on my back last night Right Where I Couldn't Reach. Must have been Hitler re-incarnated.
Don't forget to say Rabbits tomorrow and get a lucky month!
Aims x

Super Duper Busy

So trying to juggle work, moving house, planning a trip and a social life is muy muy hard amigos. Oh yeah, and learning Spanish.
Today work was absolutely insane - must be a full moon. Lots and lots of work (funny that). A few scratchy tempers. Having a glass of wine at my desk which is muy muy bien.
Plans accomplished today - printed off some available farms or "estancias" (I'm on a roll) from the Net - some really cool places available it seems. We just have to organise how to get there. I guess it will all fall into place hopefully! So far we could run a shrimp farm in Brazil, a Trout fishing resort in Chile or a great big sheepies and cowies farm in Uruguay. I am running with Brazil since shrimp are very very small and take a lot less work, plus a lot less wool and guts, and less fattening. Downside, can't be arsed learning Portugese as well as Spanish.
Also registered with www.kiwioverseas.govt.nz so that if some eejit takes over the government of Uruguay while we're there they can get hold of us easily. I am slightly paranoid and have also taken 5 copies of my passport and credit cards to give to my family if they don't hear from me - I expect them to come looking. Yes even my sister who will be 9 months pregnant.
Right off home to learn more Espagnol. Buenos noches!