brasov 2008.

heart breaking.

today i met a canadian girl who has come to australia to be with her australian boyfriend.

she hasn't been to uni yet but she really wants to, but she can't afford to study here and her boyfriend can't get a job in canada.

she wants to travel with her friends in asia.

she loves her boyfriend but she misses having her own friends and life.

she doesn't want to make a decision, so she isn't going to yet.

the beach.

i think i first watched this movie when i was about 12, for the sole reason that my sister was a ridiculous leo fan (i was more of a will smith lady at that point, though this has not really changed). the only thing i remember liking was the music, i didn't really get the story, other than the fact that leo was a bit of alright.

anyway, i recently picked up the novel at my library and gave it a shot, and watched the movie not long after i finished it. it made me so angry that a book can be shat all over to such an extent as this one.

the story follows a young british backpacker, richard, as he, like so many of us, searches for new and genuine experiences whilst travelling. as a result, he ends up living as part of a small self sufficient community on an isolated tropical island in thailand. though the majority of the narrative is consumed with richard's daily chores and experiences, it is still an absorbing story. the encapsulating and more shocking parts of the story don't occur until quite far towards the end, but by this point i was already hooked.

garland builds a wonderfully potent description of the island; of the atmosphere, the relationships, the location. its inhabitants have come to lead such a secluded existence, and the reader is invited into this notion so tactfully, that it is only very occasionally that one remembers that the island is still a part of this world, and not a stand alone fantasy. richard's unusual eccentricity and playfulness also helps to build this invisible 'bridge' between the two perspectives.

the gradual culmination of desperation to maintain the islands isolation leads to a violent and bloody finale, where the reader is snapped out of their trance.

the story was somewhat 'orwellian' in its political message; to me, anyway. that a collection of such a multi-cultural and left wing individuals could commit such violence and betrayal, all in the name of maintaining a way of life, whilst still believing that their actions are justified, just because they are carried out in the name of community.

the film, on the other hand, skips ignorantly through the islanders chores, skims carelessly over vital relationships, opting to doodle lazy crayola new relationships instead and ignore's richard's integral playful disposition. the result; the viewer sits happily through some beautiful cinematography for an hour, before being plunged into a sudden and confusing state of panic as the nature of the island switches with no good reason.

makes me want to be a director. grrr.

spaces.

we have been apart before, but this feels different, further. even though i am in the same country as him now, i still feel further away than i did when i was in a different hemisphere.

i have built my own life in this little town, far away from the city we live in. i have friends, a job, a schedule, shared experiences. i settled in faster and easier here than i did when i was living with him.

it's very hard not to try and plan and predict what could happen. it's only very occasionally that i let myself just be with what is here and now.

hostels.

going on my experiences with hostels in australia, whereby i treated them as merely places to sleep and grab a shower before i jumped on a bus to my next (more rural) destination, i was a little apprehensive about the concept of spending 3 weeks staying in these places during my time in the states, with little to no 'retreat' to a more 'homely' environment. the contrast between these accomodations; between staying with liberal families in their beautiful and unusual homes, to staying with young, excitable people in new and fast cities, fixed in my mind the attitude that hostels are not the most comfortable places to stay.

hostels can be pretty intimidating places. everyone there is there to have fun. which can make for a good party atmosphere, obviously, but it can also make for a competitive atmosphere. it's like the first week of uni, but all the time. in some situations, it can feel like everyone is out to impress everyone else. the thing is, in a hostel, everyone has an interesting story to tell; they're all travellers! they're all explorers, they're all away from home, they're all trying to make the most of their time in whatever city they find themselves in. some of the more arrogant people don't seem to acknowledge this; that maybe, they're not the most interesting person in the room. during my time in australia, i got this vibe a lot.

however, like a lot of situations, when i started to relax into the environment, i didn't perceive nearly as many negative feelings or attitudes. the first week i spent in the usa, i spent in a hostel. and i didn't ever feel pressured or intimidated or overwhelmed by other people's personalities.

this has been a bit of a rambling entry. but i think the main point is;

if you start to shed your prejudices about an environment or a situation, it can start to appear in a different light. and that light is often worth taking a look at.

lessons from nyc.

1. Eating healthy food will cost approximately 7 times as much as eating unhealthy food.


2. If you show interest in sub-way serenaders, they will show interest in you. Persistently, and also physically.


3. Standard drinks do not exist in Manhattan.


4. "Vodka and Sprite" is NOT the same as "vodka and lemonade". NB: It is, but don't get into an argument with a Polish barmaid in Brooklyn about it.

5. Never attempt to use your understanding of the London tube network as a reference for your understanding of the NYC subway network. It is, most definitely, nowhere near the same.

6. If you think something is worth seeing, chances are, several hundred people agree with you and they are all waiting to see it too. Be prepared to queue (in a wholly disorganised and un-British manner).

7.  Just because a guy who looks like a local is standing at the curb looking ready to cross, it doesn't necessarily mean it's a good place to cross. It may actually be that he is just waiting for his dog to finish defacating. NB: There is no dignified way of walking away from said man once you have realised that you have just been stood next to a stranger and his defacating pet for a good few minutes for no reason.

8. Cheese as NY knows it is not the same as the rest of the world knows it. Therefore: always hold the cheese (please).

9. The Statue of Liberty isn't as big as you'd imagine. But you will still squeal out loud the first time you see it (well...I did).

10. The best stuff that'll happen is the kind of stuff you never really considered that would happen. This includes, but is not limited to:
-eavesdropping a high school field trip to the Met, and being amazed at how articulate young Americans actually are.
-watching parents interact with their kids. Anywhere. And realising that maybe there is some attraction in having children after all.
-getting danced on by a tiny Chinese guy, telling him you have a boyfriend and indicating a random black guy, then watching tiny Chinese guy go and shake a strangers hand.
-catching an open mic night by accident.
-sitting with and talking to a psychology professor in a deli because it was the only place there was left to sit.

11. Always tip your waiters and waitresses, thank you very much and goodnight.

edge.

you know that feeling you get when you're at the peak of a rollercoaster waiting for it to fall?

i've been feeling that for about 72 hours solid. i have never felt such intensity of emotion. it's terrifying, it's exhausting, it's overwhelming...

it's FUN!

three cheers for being an over-emotional blundering babbling clumsy absent-minded twat!

acceptance.

a great way of encouraging all the best parts of you to shine through,
a great way of stimulating of your own acceptance of who you are and where you fit;

is to surround yourself with good friends whose diverse characters and skills have led them through equally diverse places and positions and experiences,

...to remind yourself that the entire notion of 'normality' is utter bullshit, and that happiness is everywhere you care to look for it.

everything is going to be ok. it's easier to remind yourself of this when your friends are supportive, and not competitive.

rushed.

a couple of years ago, i was lucky enough to get away from just about every part of the world that i was familiar with (ok, except for the english language) and find myself living in the homes of some inspiring people whilst i worked with them on whatever projects they had going. these projects included, but were not limited to: rescuing tropical birds from orchard netting, ripping up parasitic plants from their non-native soils, tending generous vegetable gardens, walking escaped ponies home along winding roads at 5AM, teaching english to french, korean, japanese and belgian people and building kangaroo-proof fencing.

while i took the time to complete said projects, i also used the time to think. i think a lot already, i know this. but having the time and space to think in a completely new and unfamiliar framework, surrounded by people who i didn't know and who didn't know me, let me rebuild a lot of my preformed opinions and interpretations.

as the time between this period of rejuvenation (of myself, and of several over-grown gardens) and 'now' gets longer, i can feel those vital thought processes and conclusions slipping away. they don't feel relevant anymore.

it's so easy to get tied up in the now. there are so few occasions these days when i feel i am in control of my feelings and my fears. though i was able to take that time, so long ago now, to regroup and to reassess my attitudes, the lessons i taught myself are getting forgotten. i feel as though every day, i am standing in a hole, and all this dirt keeps getting shoveled in on top of me. i keep forgetting to step up, and so i am slowly getting buried.

it's sad to think that the only way i can regain control of my thoughts and my well-being is by going on holiday, and physically removing myself from the world i have come to associate with negativity. i can't afford (financially and temporally) to go travelling for months at a time every time i start to feel inundated with pressures. which are going to be coming fast and lose from now until the day i die.

i need to start to be able to channel all my lessons and my love into a place where they can be addressed and taken care of, properly, or i'll sink. i am hoping that by moving closer to some old freinds, i'll find that place.

fighting.

every time i tell someone new or old, a relative or a friend, a co-worker or a stranger about my plans for the next 18 months of my life, i find myself fighting.

admittedly, not aggressively, but definitely passionately. i fight to defend my plans against their criticisms or implied opinions. i also have to fight to stay positive about my plans in my own mind, which is difficult when no-one seems to have many qualms on giving me their thoughts about it all.

i can't expect people not to give their opinions, and i know that no-one does it to upset me, or even to provoke any sort of emotion or lingering thought. but obviously it does.

i have to keep asserting the facts and the reasons as to why i am doing what i am doing, and also why it really doesn't matter what 95% of people who have an opinion on the matter say or think.

although i know that this could all fall down, and that i will miss my family, friends and this country, and that   i didn't work hard for four years as a scientist to be a waitress or a cleaner or a telemarketer...i also know that 

this is the oppurtunity of a lifetime.

my passion, my qualifications, my ambition and my spirit aren't going anywhere. my career can wait. my heart can't. i'm not throwing anything away. quite the opposite in fact; i'm spreading my arms so far wide with such enthusiastic openness, a willingness to learn, and no pre-judgement or specified intention that i'll scoop up anything i can get.

this is what i tell anyone who doubts me...

...but it's also what i have to tell myself. 

careers.

I was wrong, before.

I can still feel like a human being when I am at work. I can still be myself, and be creative and happy. Just because I am not in a museum, or a foreign country, or out with friends, or in a position of influence in my job, it doesn't mean that I have to put myself on hold.

Considering the decision I have made, to put my career on hold for the next 15 months at least, it's really important that I get this notion out of my head that 'life begins when you have a career.' Every day is an opportunity to meet new people, to discover new things (about yourself and about the world), whether you are travelling the world or working in a corner shop, looking after your children or working in a school.

Neither of us have ever 'put our lives on hold', and we never will. There is no such thing.

heckyeatumblr#9.

http://tumblr.com/xsx1xkgzm5

9. Write about each of the places which you have called 'home'.


Kelso Road, Bury St Edmunds


This is the house where I grew up. I lived here for 11 happy years with my Mum, Dad, sister and number of guinea-pigs and gerbils. It was a smallish house, with a little garden. I remember that every surface was covered in ornamental pigs or pot plants, courtesy of Mum. We had a rubber plant which grew all the way around the living room ceiling. There was at least one cabinet full of the pigs, and they filled the mantelpiece of the fireplace, in front of which sat four very heavy brass crocodiles, which were most definitely not meant to be toys but were always used as such.


There was one bathroom, which was decorated luminous turquoise and black, with some sort of fish in every potential fishy space (ie on top of the toilet, on the window ledge, on the ceiling).


The upstairs hallway, like the rest of the house, was small, but it managed to have room for a huge copy of Steve Pearson's 'Wings of Love', with an overly ornate gold frame.

The Warren

This is the first house my parents ever looked at buying, but as a newly wed couple they couldn't afford it. Fifteen years later the house went back up on the market and they could - so we moved 10 minutes up the road into a beautiful chalet bungalow with a large (for a town-house) garden. We've been here 11 years now, and since then basically re-built the whole thing, as a lot of work was needed. I love this house. It really is like a warren; there's a main hallway with lots of little rooms coming off it, including a hidden staircase which leads to the upstairs, where I live when I come home now. Nice and private since my sister moved out two years ago. Mum and Dad spend all their time in the garden with various odd jobs and gardening, Mum grows heaps of vegetables when the weather lets her, and Dad takes care of all the fruit trees and rhubarb. There's lots of 'stuff' everywhere, but I love all of it, because it's home. Since my grandparents died, we took on some of the ornaments and furniture and paintings. They lived in a really big old country house with high ceilings; their things look COMPLETELY out of place here, but I think that's pretty cool. My great-grandmother was a painter, and we have several of her paintings up, even though they take up half the bloody wall space.


The Ziggurats
 I lived on campus for my first year at university. I had my own little room in a flat for 14 people on the ground floor of the the 'ziggurats', which are listed buildings. Sharing a kitchen with 13 other people was...interesting. And I definitely wouldn't live there again. But I made some really cool friends, and I am glad I spent my first year there.

Bland Road

I have lived here on and off for the past three years, though with different people as registered 'tenants' at each of the addresses, I have more or less lived with the same group of friends, as everyone loiters and we hang out a lot, and cook for each other. I spend a lot of my time being miserable and whining about the state of the house, as it's pretty gross...no-one else really cleans apart from me. To be honest, it's a shame that I have had to live with the friends that I have lived with because if we had never been housemates I think we would all be closer, as I wouldn't be so angry with them a lot of the time. Despite this, I love being able to eat with my friends every evening, and I love that I have met and got to know some of the most interesting, independent, cultured, obscure (?!), honest, loving and passionate people I think I have ever met. As well as this, adventures with aforesaid house mates make for i) some pretty cool anecdotes and ii) some vital life-lessons in patience....

Evatt House

This is where I lived during my year at Newcastle Uni, Australia. I loved it here. There were two 'quads' comprised of 10 blocks in total, each block being two flats of 10. Each flat had their own 'Residential Assistant', and participated in 'blunctions' regularly, which could have been trips to a restaurant, to a movie, dessert night etc...The college had heaps of activities going on all the time, games and nights out....I miss it :( It's also where I met my boyfriend, Sam. He lived just across the hallway from me...we would stay up late talking on facebook chat because we were too shy to go and see each other...sometimes I could hear him typing...Unfortunately keyboards are a major part of our relationship again now, but not for too much longer. I made some really awesome friends here, and even though lots of them have moved on to new cities/ states, I really hope they can come visit/ I have enough money to go and visit them.

Writing all this is making me very sad. So I'll stop now. 

denmark, WA.

I made some wonderful, inspiring friends. One day I'll go back and visit them, I just hope I can make them proud.

things to do in nyc #3

#3 People-watch at GCS.

Of course.

things to do in nyc #2

#2 Pretend I'm (a better looking) SJP. This includes:

- writing a blog entry whilst pouting and wearing gorgeous shoes.

- eating breakfast in a cafe (hopefully with some girlfriends if i) I make some OR ii) persuade a certain someone to ditch all this 'job' bullshit and come join me) whilst pouting and wearing gorgeous shoes.

- sit in a bar, drinking a cosmopolitan, talking to an attractive man (it may well just have to be the barman, and I understand and accept this) whilst pouting and wearing gorgeous shoes.

- lay on a bed barefoot, talking on the phone, whilst pouting and having just removed gorgeous shoes.

things to do in nyc #1

#1 I want to go running in Central Park. I'm going to start working on playlists NOW.

cappadocia.

June 2008.

perspective.

I went railing round Europe for a few weeks back in 2008 and I hated on my shitty cheap camera the whole time.

Having a nose around old files and I rediscovered my then 'shameful' images that I took. 

In the past 3 years, something about me must have changed because I now LOVE them all...

be prepared for some sporadic postings of said photographs... 

Mostar, Bosnia and Herzegovina