Sunday, August 23, 2015

How instagram ruined a friendship

It was the hashtag ‘cleaninginheels’ that did it. Before it there were the serious selfies, the duckfaces, the pouts and the poses angled just-so, to make sure the maximum shoe/ jewellery/ handbag and label label label was photographed. There had been plenty of eye rolls and furious scrolls past other ridiculous photos and captions, but this one took the cake. Cleaning in heels? Please shut up.

I love the odd selfie. I just love them when they’re at least slightly natural, when you can’t feel through your screen the 50 previous attempts to get the cheekbones chiselled just so, and you aren’t risking chiropractic bills for the awkward lean you’re attempting. I love the odd purchase-brag. Guilty, guilty, guilty. I love sharing, to an extent, and I love that feeling when you see someone else’s purchase and thinking I WANT IT AND I WANT IT NOW! When all of someone’s posts seem to be for the sake of showing how fabulous they want their life to look, it gets old pretty quickly. It’s so forced.

I’m well aware I’m being hypocritical, that this is high school behaviour (if that) and that this is unnecessary drama in my relatively drama-free life. What I think is a ridiculous post, others don’t think twice about. People want different outcomes from their social media posts, have different agendas, and that’s none of my business. I have the choice to unfollow, or to keep reading and watching, knowing I’m setting myself up for a reaction. But what if the person is a friend? Not a random fashion blogger that wouldn’t notice one follower drop from their thousands, but someone you used to see often enough, and someone who in real life always comments on your instagram posts (despite never liking them, I checked).

When you know the ins and outs of someone’s personal situation, as much as it’s possible to in this oversharing time, and the life they are currating on social media is a long, long way from the truth, what do you do? Do you go along with the cheerleading ‘you look so skinny!’ ‘I’m so jealous of your life!’ ‘your house is amazeballs!’ that is so common for friends and mere acquaintances? Do you call them out? Or do you do what I did, and just try and ignore it, to prevent your eyeballs popping out when you see yet another post aimed at generating said cheers?

The outcome for me was that they blocked me. Maybe for not commenting, maybe for ignoring. Well, I can only assume that’s the reason I was blocked, as we haven’t had an actual personal interaction in weeks. Nothing else has changed. I clearly wasn’t supporting the life she wants people to think she has, or maybe it’s because I know she doesn’t have it. Whatever the reason, it’s been a relief to not have to dread what I’ll see on her feeds. At least it’s sort of come to a head, and I can stop wasting so much time thinking about what to do. Insert motivational quote here. #blessed #winning #amazeballs





Thursday, August 20, 2015

The good old 'we should catch up'

Two things have made me even lazier than usual in my spare time. Firstly, my new job. It's a job that makes me think, a job that leaves me pretty exhausted most nights, a job that has shown me what being busy really means. Hint: I was never all that busy before.  
Secondly, a little puppy that is very, very time demanding. Pascal is the cutest, sweetest little thing, and when I'm not at work I want to be with him. Sometimes my husband must feel like a single parent, looking after this little devil, so of course when I'm home I want to be the one to bask in the naughtiness. 

Because I've been fairly MIA, when I see someone it's usually been a while. So of course come the 'we have to catch up!' conversations. Pascal is partly to blame for that. If you're anything like me, you want to sniff, cuddle and nibble on a new puppy. Probably the way most people do with actual babies. But unlike with Marcel, I've been a bit protective of this boy. I haven't really wanted to share him with many people. Selfish? Maybe. Perhaps it's getting older, but I just don't feel the need to have him seen by anyone. He gets enough fawning over when we walk out of our front door. His doggy ego is big enough! 

With the sniff in the air of spring, it's as though people are coming out of the woodwork, out of hibernation. I certainly am.

Let's face it, if we were going to catch up, we'd organise a catch up. It's not that hard. As you get older, your circle shrinks. And I'm more than OK with that. I just don't have the time or energy to dedicate to half arsed friendships any more. I want to spend my precious free time with the people I love. I want to do that properly. If you want to see me, come see me. You know where I live. If we're going to catch up, it shouldn't take three 'we have to catch up' conversations before it actually happens. We'd just catch up. 

Sunday, August 9, 2015

A dog friendly weekend in Kangaroo Vallley

Bank holiday is the universe's gift to financial services employees like me. Sure our industry can lack glamour at times, but we get a fake public holiday! Since I've been slaving over a hot keyboard for more hours than usual lately, I executviely decided that Mr C, Pascal and I were taking off for the weekend.
With a surfer husband our weekends away usually stay close to the coast, which is fine by me. I wanted something different for this winter getaway though, and an open fireplace was calling my name. It was a brilliant weekend weather wise, sadly almost too warm for the fire on Sunday! We still put it on (as in I sat drinking wine while Mr C engaged his firebug ways) and had to run around opening the windows it got so hot! 

We stayed at the gorgeous The Church, which is perfect for a couple and dog friendly. It's on the main road through town, so very close to the bakeries and pub, with a stunning outlook over the valley. The verandah was the perfect place to sit and watch the sun dip behind the mountain, then run inside to the roaring fireplace. 

Day trips to Milton, Mollymook and Berry meant we were never short of good eating supplies. A dog friendly visit to Yarrawa Winery, complete with two creek water infested Labradors meant we (I) were not short of beverages to drink whilst watching aforementioned sunset. 

A highlight was buying a pair of RM Williams Yearling boots. I've ummed and ahhed about buying a pair for ages, but bit the bullet as they're almost an essential for my job these days. I traipsed around the city all day Thursday and the were super comfy all day. If you had told me a year ago I'd be in the role I'm in today and wearing RM Williams I'd have  laughed in your face. But here I am! In my boots!

Friday, July 17, 2015

The memory connection

This morning I saw an Instagram shot of The End store in Yucca Valley, California. It was one of the best stores I've ever been to and I could have spent days there chatting to the owner and going through her divine clothing and jewellery store in the desert. This photo gave me the first sense of post travel blues, the come down from not being on holidays anymore, tinged with a fair bit of exhilaration from the memory of that day. 

There is a disconnect between me being in a place and me feeling the pleasure of actually being there. I try and force myself to think about my surroundings, the smells, the weather. The sun, a scent, a view I don't recognize. Just something to try to get my mind to connect to the moment. I need to do this, to try and store these away because I just don't get that excited in the moment. None of the feelings I should  be feeling are there right at that time.  

When I was younger I would get the strongest sensation in my tummy, call it butterflies, there was just something unmistakable there. In the moment, the excitement would sometimes feel too much. Nowadays it just doesn't happen to me then and there. I get a bit excited when I'm anticipating something, obsessively planning and organising. Is it because of my tendency to be controlling? My virgo nature? That I have planned too much and the novelty of where I am going seems old hat by the time I get there? My lack of ability to relax and forget the small possibility that things could go wrong? Maybe I'm too aware of the moment and I'm just not letting myself feel.

The biggest joy I get these days is after the fact. Sometimes long after. It might be something little like seeing an instagram post (and aren't there instagram posts of everything) that gives me the sense of de ja vu that I've experienced this before. THAT'S when the payoff happens. This morning was months after being in the Yucca Valley and the first time I've been aware of the budding excitement and the start of the really, really feel good memories. 

Forgotten are the hours sitting in airports, laying wide awake at 3am from crippling jet lag, feeling like you've been ripped off with the dollar or by an enterprising stall holder. What remains is the content, a feeling of accomplishment, of having done something. That's the beauty of travel for me. That's why I spend the money, do the planning, take the risks. 

I am really conscious of trying to not succumb to the grass being greener syndrome. When we had Marcel I'd madly pin travel links, mainly New York, and I'd yearn to revisit or to just go. But not ever having any intention of going and leaving him. Maybe it was the feeling of being tied down that my soul recognized but my mind hadn't yet. When we lost Marcel travel was the last thing on my mind. I just wanted my weekends to end on the couch cuddled up to him and I couldn't have cared less where that happened. 

This memory is hopefully the beginning of coming full circle, of being content enough to just be. Of having done what we did and of

life going on. 


Saturday, July 11, 2015

Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

Five years ago I had not long been married, not long been back from an around the world trip, had a little crazy but totally adorable puppy Frenchie, a very flexible job that let me spend a lot of time with that puppy, and barely a care in the world. These days I have an amazing husband and marriage, an insanely stressful and high pressure job, and a total sweetheart, totally adorable puppy Frenchie. 

When I saw my first Frenchie in New York, all those years ago, never ever ever did I think I would be spending my Saturday driving waaaaay out west to hang out with a bunch of dog nutters in the freezing cold. 2.5 degree cold. Never did I think I'd have a puppy Frenchie who just happened to win Best Baby Puppy in breed today. Who would have thought? Not me. I would have told you to get your head read. 

But here we are and I couldn't be happier. Pascal outdid himself today. Despite *ahem* not the most time spent training him, at his very first show he just knew what to do out there. I am thrilled, a little bit shocked, and so, so proud. I am fast becoming one of those people and couldn't be happier. 

Tuesday, June 23, 2015

Priceline beauty bag

I have resisted the last few Priceline freebie bags, but this one was just too good to pass up. I did a proper scout of the store and the catalogue to make sure I was buying things I (sort of) needed and that the bag was full of good stuff. All killer no filler if you like.
It's a really great bag with decent brands and pretty much everything in it I will use.

La Roche-Posay is a brand I've wanted to try for a while and with the hefty (for Priceline) prices it didn't take much to get to the minimum spend for the bag. The sour faced 15 year old at the counter still had to study the catalogue to make sure I qualified with the brands I bought. The Antipodes minis are for my travel toiletry bag, which stays in the cupboard stocked up so I don't forget something, which is inevitable when you're packing in a delirious state. 

My (new) bathroom cupboards are full and I have lots of fun new stuff to try. The only downside to this bag is that a few of the freebies are by redemption of a voucher in store... why make things hard? But I will forgive you, Priceline, and no doubt be drawn into the land of freebie bags again one day. 

Tuesday, June 9, 2015

A navy moment with Jerome

Because it is possible to justify any purchase to yourself, I won't bore you with the details of my 'new job' 'treat yourself' 'it's a classic piece therefore half price' internal dialogue that went on before I bought this bag. But Parlour X having a sale sealed the deal. I ummed and ahhed about a navy bag, but I wanted something different, and navy is just so freaking out there, right? Right?!? 

Anyway, Jerome Dreyfuss's Eduoard is gorgeous and we're really happy together, in case you were wondering. Mr C even said I looked 'elegant' with it, and I'll be buggered if I've ever been described as that before. 
He has fit well with some other recent navy and blue toned purchases from Thurley and Trenery. Winter seems a little less harsh with such a dramatic a shift from black. Wink. 



Sunday, June 7, 2015

Recently 7.6.2015

I know I say this all the time but it's been a crazy few weeks. Trips to Melbourne and Perth, concerts and catch ups and a torn calf muscle. It doesn't feel like I'm home much at the moment, so when I am I want to just be home. Cuddling my gorgeous little ball of love, who is growing at a ridiculous rate.

It's a long weekend in Sydney, so after getting home exhausted from a week in Perth, I'm trying to balance out the friend catch ups with couch, cuddle and walk time. 
The view from my gorgeous hotel room at Crown Metropol in Melbourne. It was a grey old week when I was there for a conference, but I'm ok with that. I'm not a Sydney vs Melbourne person, I appreciate them both, but to me half the beauty of Melbourne is that it's often grey and bleak!
Crown Metropol was fantastic. Service, food (the breakfast!!) and comfort were top notch. Cannot say that for the rest of the Crown complex though. It was not a pleasant experience to walk through at 7am on a Tuesday morning after going for a walk.
The view from Little Creatures in Fremantle. I also stayed at Crown Metropol in Perth, and that's just a mini version of the Melbourne complex. It felt like stating in a Vegas hotel, and not in a good way. As in you enter, and can lap the whole place without seeing sunlight. Again not pleasant. The buffet breakfast there is worth going to. I caught up with my sister there who is living with Perth, even though I was absolutely exhausted (is it just me who gets jet lag going to Perth?) I was determined to YOLO the shit out of being away from my boy and do something every night there. Little Creatures is so pretty, we sat outside under a heater or seven. It would be even better on a lazy summer afternoon. We also went to Jamie's Italian in the city the night I got there. It's a continuation of the other Jamie venues, great fresh Italian food and of the minute decor. The service was pretty rubbish though. We were eating ridiculously early yet still got rushed the whole time. Not much annoys me more than a waiter who rushes you, but is nowhere to be found when you need something. The prices are also noticeably higher than Sydney. Basically everywhere I went, but especially here as I'd just been to Jamie's in Sydney. Lucky everyone's earning those big mining dollars eh? EH?
Back home to my boy, we made the most of a mild winter night and had burritos and beers outside. Seriously lucky to have places that let us take him nearby. Lots of pats were had, and he was an angel for his first dinner out. I had to practically force him to pose for this photo. Bad mother. 

When the weather has not been so mild I've been slow cooking up a storm. I bought this Breville contraption, after much indecision, and rate it really well so far. I've only just been brave enough to try the pressure cooker setting and it freaks me out a bit. This chicken was divine, but the skin just didn't go crispy which was a tad disappointing.  
After seeing my first true love, Daniel Johns, at the Opera House as part of Vivid a couple of weeks ago (seriously think yourself lucky I didn't post separately about this, it would just have been a lot of gushing), I outdid myself by going to another gig on Friday night. Carley of old would be cringing right now, the one that thought nothing of seeing a band every night of the week, sometimes running between two when schedules clashed. That Carley didn't have a torn calf muscle, a dog to get home to, and old lady knees to consider. 
Jebediah at the Metro were so, so, so good. They have forever been one of my favourite bands, my bestie and I have seen them countless times, and it's one of the few albums Mr C and I both adore equally. The Jebs sounded (and looked!!) better than they did 20 years ago. So. Much. Fun. Just joyful poppy punky rock. Good times. My body is feeling it today, so so much dancing. 

Monday, May 18, 2015

Recently 18.05.2015



I'm sitting in the Sydney Qantas club, telling you I'm in the Qantas club, like every wanker who has a sudden urge to call everyone in their phonbook, just to tell them, really loudly, that they're in the Qantas club. I've soent what feels like a lot of time in here lately. Time that I would rather be spending with Pascal, not bragging about the 'free' toasted sandwiches and beer. 
I'm in my way to Melbourne for a conference, which I will probably be really excited about once I stop thinking about those little brown eyes that just wanted another cuddle when I left today. I'm never normally at the airport in the middle of the day. It's usually me and a bunch of other suits here in the almost dark, rush rush rushing to our next meeting, knowing the Qantas club drill, eyes down and quiet. Today there are families, children, holiday makers, retirees. It's such a different vibe- and I'm wearing Vans!- I almost forget I'm travelling for work. Almost. 

Here's what I've been up to. 

Taking myself away from the hotel breakfast to laptop it up at the Newsroom cafe in Brisbane. 
Packing for a work trip is so strange when it's not suit attire. My conference is smart casual which I've had to think long and hard about when meeting new colleagues for the first time. Lucky pretty much everything I own is black, grey or denim. Well except for my toiletry bag. Must steal Mr C's grey one. 

Trying out the Maybelline Brow Drama I bought in the U.S. So far loving it more than Benefit Gimme Brow, which I didn't think I could love any harder. 
Slow cooking up a storm on the days I've been home and hibernating. Beef and eggplant stew and Mexican chicken. 

And finally a shot of my little darling not cooperating with walking. His little legs can only carry him so far, I'm more than happy to do the rest. 






Sunday, May 3, 2015

Life update

It's a grey Sunday afternoon here in Sydney and I'm feeling very content but can't help a bit of sentimentality. My new slow cooker is full, there are friands in the oven and, by some miracle, almost dry washing on the line. 
But there is a new something, someone else here, and he is making this Sunday afternoon feel a whole lot better than they have recently. 

Pascal is home. He is a chunky, brindle, white chinned, cuddle fiend, sweetheart of a puppy. He is so sleepy, so easy going, so puppy like, I keep having to remind myself he is here. I just cannot help but compare him to Marcel. I said I wouldn't but it's impossible not to. On the car ride home yesterday I saw him yawn for the first time. Something so innocent, but it got me. It wasn't Marcel's yawn. It was so, so different. Pascal straight away started licking my face. It's hard to keep crying when a little love machine is smothering you in doggy kisses. It was like he knew and he was telling me it was ok to love him, ok to let go. If I had kept up the comparisons to Marcel they'd ever end. A friend came over to meet him today and she started too. But also quickly realised how futile it was. Everything about him is different. Pascal is not Marcel. He deserves his own love and to get to be his gorgeous puppy self. 

He is ridiculously cute. So much so he looks fake. Mr C was holding him this morning and it looked like he was holding a teddy. He has melted my heart, how could he not? 

For long time I felt like not much happened in my world. After cruising through life for the past few years, the last few months have been full on, have more than made up for it. I've been on a big overseas trip that was all planned in a rush by me, lost a job, been head hunted, started a massive new role, been interstate five times in a month, renovated a (still unfinished) bathroom, had my floor wrecked (again), this time in the storms. And I've been going out A LOT. I just didn't have a reason not to. 

Life feels different. So many new beginnings, so much to look forward to. And so much to remember.

Thursday, April 2, 2015

FOWO





I am far, far too lazy to get FOMO, but it seems I have contracted a strong case of FOWO. The genuine and serious Fear Of Wearing Out. This morning, being a fake Friday with a public holiday tomorrow, was casual at work. I pretty much wear the same thing to work every casual Friday. Skinny black J Brands, a tshirt in white, black, or to really live on the edge, black and white stripes, boots or sneakers and a casual blazer. With my overseas purchases burning a hole in my wardrobe, I grabbed my new MBMJ denim jacket, still with the tags on. But then I hesitated. If I wore it today, it wouldn’t be new anymore. It would be worn. And isn’t half the fun of buying new clothes the thrill of having something fresh? Unworn with no memories, with so much potential fun to come, seems to be my favourite type of fashion. 
Now we’re not talking about a ball gown. No sequins, or beading, nothing silky or shiny. It’s a denim jacket. A piece I’ve been wanting to buy for ages, one that I imagined myself wearing whenever I got a chance. Then the chance came and I wavered. I didn’t want it to not be new anymore. 
Almost everything I bought overseas was ticked off a list. Practical, wardrobe staple pieces that I needed, as much as I can describe new clothing as a need. Nothing fancy or dressy, and nothing I hadn’t thought through. I expected a frenzy of buying, given I hadn’t shopped for ages, but it wasn’t at all. A combination of the dollar dropping and there just not being much that grabbed me. I really wanted a new handbag, sneakers, gym clothes and work clothes. I guess because of the little old internet, everything looked the same. And when I’m packing and unpacking every couple of days, checking in to flights and hotels, unless something really grabs me, it ain’t going in my suitcase. Yet I have pared my wardrobe down so much, it still looked like a lot when I unpacked. Given the sort of clothes I bought were only casual, my work wardrobe is now very underrepresented. 
So tonight, on the eve of a long long weekend, I am going to get the new stuff out, get rid of the tags and get over my FOWO once and for all. Oh, and get together a big pile of stuff destined for ebay. 
Side note: now Marc Jacobs has declared the end of MBMJ, maybe I shouldn’t have worn this investment item? 



Tuesday, March 24, 2015

The holiday is over baby

And it's never gonna be that way again. Or maybe it will. If the last few months have taught me anything it's to never say never. And that anything could be around the corner. I sure did not think I'd be going on a trip as big as this one in the foreseeable future. We had already done a couple of 'last hurrahs' and were more than happy with our quiet, simple life. But life took a (really shit) turn, and there we were. 

This was truly the best holiday I've ever had. We holidayed good. Budget be damned, we kinda went all out. Very unlike me, I didn't once think to pull up the reigns. That, coupled with the fact that we needed a break, needed to get away, meant it was a good one. It felt like we were away for ages, and did so much. It was a proper good break. The bank balance is a fair whack smaller and the waistline has expanded (thank you USA burgers), but it's more than worth it.

Everyone keeps asking me what my favourite part/ place was, but how could you pick? The whole of Mexico was everything I expected and so much more. Palm Springs was a postcard in every direction, and the abundance of cute gay boys and dogs meant I was in heaven. New York in the snow was like a dream, and you know you're having fun if minus 16 degrees can't take the smile off your face. But my meeting Justin Bieber in LA story is up there with the best! 

Life has been nothing short of mental since we got back. A bathroom renovation, possible redundancy, job interviews (and necessary panic suit buying), and most importantly confirmation a new puppy is coming. It's all happening and it's been the busiest week-and-a-bit ever. Deep breaths. 


Sunday, February 1, 2015

Packing for Meximerica

Because I'm a massive perve, I love seeing packing posts. Today I did about 67 loads of washing (Mr B kept 'finding' things that he wanted to take that weren't washed) and finished packing, as a Virgo this is far too close to our departure date! 

My place is absolute carnage at the moment. In preparation for renovations starting when we go, our bathroom is tile-less vanity-less and there is dust everywhere. Our builder came over today and we have to tweak a few things that aren't what I want. Deep breaths. 

I am taking this Crumpler bag that I got just before Christmas. I love love loved my last suitcase, that I'd had for nearly 10 years, but it just wouldn't survive another trip. This is a lot bigger than what I'm used to. I Waiver between thinking I'm overpacked to not having packed enough. I'm going to try not to panic and chuck 10 more things in as we leave for the airport. We'll be in the heat and the cold (oh the cold) but I've tried to take lots of layers. I'll need to buy some things along the way, but isn't that the point of holidays? There is so much room left over, so much that I'm scared my stuff will fly around in it. I somehow doubt this will be an issue coming home.

When it's written in a list it looks like a lot. This includes what I'm wearing on the plane.

Shoes
  • Birkenstocks 
  • Havaianas 
  • Converse 
  • Bali sandals stud 
  • Nike runners 
Tops
  • Jack jac singlet charcoal 
  • Jack jac long sleeve button shirt charcoal 
  • Jack jac long sleeve tshirt grey marle 
  • Bassike tshirt grey stripe 
  • Bassike ls black 
  • Bassike ls stripe 
  • Topshop shirt chambray 
  • Uniqlo knit black
  • CR shirt white
  • Bonds jumper grey 
  • Awang singlet black 
  • Sass bide shirt leopard
Dresses
  • Lee Matthews black
  • Bassike tshirt black 
 Pants
  • J brand jeans black 
  • Levi's shorts denim 
  • Sportsgirl shorts black 
  • Sass Bide rats black 
  • J brand jeans blue
Outer 
  • Patagonia puffer jacket black 
Other
  • Tigerlily swimmers leopard 
  • Patagonia bikini top black 
  • Bikini bottoms black 
  • Cdg pouch 
  • Thurley hat 
  • Wool beanie grey 
  • Scarf leopard 
  • Headscarves 
  • Umbrella 
  • Stockings black x 3 
  • Turkish towels 
  • Torch 
  • Adapter
  • Umbrella
  • Charger gopro
  • Charger apple 

Thursday, January 29, 2015

Almost away


Wednesday, January 14, 2015

On marriage advice

I'm sitting in my Brisbane hotel room, trying to muster the courage to return to the 7500% humidity outside to go for dinner. I've got a gross snotty, sore throated cold which is self inflicted from my big weekend, in which I had a friend's birthday. It was the best night, I'm still smiling thinking about it. It completely refreshed me, I laughed SO much. After various Oxford St establishments, said birthday ended up at Arq. It was a big night. Judge away... 
What's this got to do with marriage advice you ask? Well being in Brisbane today has been a great break from my work colleagues who have been giving me so much crap about my weekend. Because I'm married, I shouldn't be out with other men. Because I'm over whatever age is acceptable to be out on Oxford St on a Saturday night. Because a picture was posted to Facebook of me being kissed on the cheek by a hot guy. 
Leaving aside the fact that no matter how much I adore these men, they will never be interested in me, I just don't get it. I encourage Mr B to spend time without me, and in return I'd expect any hesitation from him if I said I was going out. He was umming and ahhing about coming, but in the end decided I'd have a lot more fun without him. He was right. He's not a dancer, he loves my friends but is more than happy to leave me to our debauchery, and will be there for me the next day when I whinge about my sore feet and whatever else hurts. We went out for dinner and then he dropped me off for the birthday. 
I am well aware that I am bloody lucky and not everyone has that trust. But because I have it, I'd never do anything to jeopardise it. I told my husband everything that happened on Saturday night (and Sunday morning...) he thought it was all hilarious and kept asking me to go on. If he wasn't horrified, why should anyone else be? 
Also, even though I'm away for less than 48 hours, I miss my husband. Is that weird, for a couple who have been together for 10 years? I don't know but I think it's surely a positive thing. When Marcel died I had a little niggle in the back of my mind that our marriage wouldn't be as great. Surely the loss of the best thing in our lives would have to have to have a negative impact on us? But it hasn't. At all. If anything we are stronger than ever. We have helped each other through the shit. My mum did say to me to be kind to each other. I didn't know exactly what she meant by that but it's so easy to take the shit stuff out on your partner. We haven't and I'm really proud of that. 

Sunday, January 4, 2015

A day in the Royal National Park

It's been a brilliant weekend. Sydney has really turned on the weather and we've had nothing on. A very rare combo indeed. In an effort to keep ourselves busy, and make Sunday nights a bit easier, we are attacking our list of things to do, things we'd never have done with Marcel. 

Saturday morning we took off nice and early, armed with coffee, for the Royal National Park. We are so lucky to be so close to it, it's truly one of the most stunning places in the world. We parked at the farm and headed for Era, Garie, Burning Palms, along the coastal walk. It was crazy hot at one stage and I was dripping with sweat, huffing and puffing. Much needed. Otherwise the weather was perfect and apart from the beaches we barely saw anyone. My Moves app said we walked 7.9kms. Given a lot of that was uphill, scrambling over rocks, hoisting ourselves up things, I reckon it was about 790kms. 

My tips for a day in the Nasho*:
- go early. If you're going for a long walk it's much better to not go in the heat of midday. Car parks fill up quickly in nice weather, and as Sydney gets more populated and the RNP becomes more popular, this will only get worse
- go in winter. I loved the sweat session yesterday in crazy Sydney humidity, but if you're not keen for that winter is a beautiful time in the park 
- don't be a dickhead. Yesterday I saw people hanging off cliffs for a photo op, getting caught in rips at Garie (where I'm hesitant to go out, and I'm a confident swimmer), generally losing their minds. Don't be like that
- be respectful of your surroundings. You're in a quiet, peaceful place, no one is there to hear your voice. Take your rubbish with you. Don't break shit
- go prepared. Water (lots of it), hat, sunscreen, basic first aid kit. People get hurt, conditions change. Wear proper shoes. Sure thongs look great, but aren't so good for climbing rocks. Take or wear your swimmers, there's nothing better than a dip when you've earned it.
- if you insist on cycling through the park (don't), for gods sake keep left! 

*when my Irish friend had relatives visiting, she took them to Bundeena for the day. When I mentioned the word 'Nasho' she thought I'd made it up. Once I convinced them it's commonly used, not just by me, they thought it hilarious but were probably concerned about the Aussie use of the English language. 



Friday, January 2, 2015

The new New Year's Day

If New Year's Day is the new New Year's Eve, the 2nd of January must be the new 1st, and the day the obligatory 2015 blog post is written. Right? 

Since I spent most of the day horizontal, blogging just wasn't happening anyway. I wasn't hungover much (I swear! Unlike my husband...) I just felt really blah. I expected to be upset on New Year's Eve but I was fine. A night that was supposed to be quietish turned out to be anything but, as those nights tend to do. We left our bbq to crash a house down the road, and those parents showed us how to party! I had to sneak out, I just couldn't keep up. Good times, even though we ended up crashing in the back of Mr B's car to get some peace and quiet. 

NYD was the day I kind of hit a wall and just didn't want to play any more.

To get me out of my funk I set off for a walk/ run (I still can't call myself a runnerA) around lunch time today and was loving life. A nice breeze, not too many people around. Then I turned around the point and felt like I entered a bath, it was that humid without a breeze. By the time I got home I was literally dripping in sweat. GOOD! Much needed and I felt a hundred times better for it. This afternoon I headed to Surry Hills to catch up with an old friend who is in town. I walked away feeling lighter again. As cliched as it is, it's the ones that just get you that you should hang on tight to. 

Don't worry about my day being too healthy. Despite turning down Messina twice today, I still managed to have gelato. I think our local place is better than Messina anyway, but don't tell anyone. 




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