Sitting out on my balcony soaking up the sun I was stricken by a thought. Before explaining the thought I must first give you a description of my surroundings: I was lying on my beach towel which has the Australian flag printed on it, I was taking a break from reading and gazing in awe at the three large eagles that were soaring over head, and the book that I was reading is Confederates in the Attic, a novel surrounding deep exploration into the civil war and how it effects the South of today. My professors voice was ringing in my ears talking about how Horwitz (the author) was exploring that perhaps what brings us as a general people together is shared history. That a common past is the sole reason we have an individual culture.
Pondering this atop my Australian memorabilia I was propelled into the questions of where does my culture come from? What culture do I belong to? What the hell do I identify with? And before you zone out at yet another adolescent questioning who they are, where they come from, and where they want to be, I have an insight. A reason that perhaps my mismatched group of friends back home is still unified.
It is indeed our common history, albeit not dating as far back as a war fought in the 1860s, but it is our shared experiences that keep us from completely falling apart. I am a firm believer that our experiences are one of the driving forces in shaping who we become, and with the pushing of my professor I believe that this could be adopted in not just an individual sense but also for a group of people.
When people ask me what Australia is like I often draw a blank. All I can think of is my drama-filled group of flaming homosexuals that I have grown up with. And when questioned about what we do back home for fun all I can think of is drink. Surely there must be more to it than that? Alas my teacher has enlightened me (as they are surprisingly paid to do…shock horror) that whilst I fail to come up with a concrete example of life back home, it is the fact that I have lived it, and shared it with these people who I have grown to know as friends.
So perhaps he wasn’t suffering a brief moment of insanity when he put forth that people are united through history. And that indeed that history is interpreted differently by each individual, but it is still a common past that brings them together.
Just a thought… perhaps history could be important.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Monday, April 12, 2010
world war 3?
So I haven’t really posted a blog in quite a while. But I would like to take the time to set out the full, complete, and truthful reason as to why this is. I have been held hostage by a large number of steroid taking bees and bright red wasp’s who are staging world war 3 on my balcony.
It all began when the weather changed from freezing cold to stifling hot (which happened in a matter of days might I add) and the number of insects begin to increase in an exponential manner. At first I was mildly amused by the bees and only slightly afraid of the wasps.
These bees are not like the small and humble bees which can be found back home, but instead a giant monstrosity of a bee. It is the size of my thumb from the knuckle to the end. Huge right? They used to just come and scope out the area, buzzing around in the one spot but then moving out without much problems.
The wasps were always a bit of a problem, but in all honesty I appreciate their honesty. They are a pest, and they don’t pretend to be anything else. They have set up camp in a nearby location and are often flying around sneakily. They have even been known to enter my house (I think it’s because they are spying on me and scoping out the territory that they are trying to win).
Like I said, these bees had lulled me into a false sense of security. I stupidly thought that these oversized bugs were simply gentle giants. The other day I had bravely ventured out on to the balcony for a little bit of sun and to read a paper. I was just sitting there minding my own business when I suddenly felt as though I was being watched. I was content to ignore the crazy stalker stare until a small but distinctly yellow blob of liquid landed on my paper.
“You have to be fucking kidding me?!?! Did a bee just pee on my homework?!”
I think up to this point I had been pretty tolerable of their imposing presence. I hadn’t called in anyone to exterminate the pests, even though I had every right. I had been stared down, I have been swooped, I have been chased inside, barricaded in my room, and now a fricken bee had peed on my homework.. COME ON!
The anger took over me and I looked up and I came face to face with the menacing eyes of a bee. I read somewhere that one should never make eye contact with an angry animal and I wondered fleetingly if this applied to bees. As I was preoccupied with my life that was flashing before my eyes I noticed the buzzing had been upgraded from slightly annoying to intolerable.
There on my balcony, open for everyone to see the wasps had finally launched their attack on the bees. There were aerial battles going on everywhere. I ducked and weaved through the battling insects and tried with little success to get into my apartment whilst keeping the war outside. I had witnessed bees attacking wasps, wasps attached to bees, even a set of bees attacking each other. I was shocked. I was appalled. I was scared.
And this, my friends, is the exact and truthful reason that I haven’t posted any blogs lately.
It all began when the weather changed from freezing cold to stifling hot (which happened in a matter of days might I add) and the number of insects begin to increase in an exponential manner. At first I was mildly amused by the bees and only slightly afraid of the wasps.
These bees are not like the small and humble bees which can be found back home, but instead a giant monstrosity of a bee. It is the size of my thumb from the knuckle to the end. Huge right? They used to just come and scope out the area, buzzing around in the one spot but then moving out without much problems.
The wasps were always a bit of a problem, but in all honesty I appreciate their honesty. They are a pest, and they don’t pretend to be anything else. They have set up camp in a nearby location and are often flying around sneakily. They have even been known to enter my house (I think it’s because they are spying on me and scoping out the territory that they are trying to win).
Like I said, these bees had lulled me into a false sense of security. I stupidly thought that these oversized bugs were simply gentle giants. The other day I had bravely ventured out on to the balcony for a little bit of sun and to read a paper. I was just sitting there minding my own business when I suddenly felt as though I was being watched. I was content to ignore the crazy stalker stare until a small but distinctly yellow blob of liquid landed on my paper.
“You have to be fucking kidding me?!?! Did a bee just pee on my homework?!”
I think up to this point I had been pretty tolerable of their imposing presence. I hadn’t called in anyone to exterminate the pests, even though I had every right. I had been stared down, I have been swooped, I have been chased inside, barricaded in my room, and now a fricken bee had peed on my homework.. COME ON!
The anger took over me and I looked up and I came face to face with the menacing eyes of a bee. I read somewhere that one should never make eye contact with an angry animal and I wondered fleetingly if this applied to bees. As I was preoccupied with my life that was flashing before my eyes I noticed the buzzing had been upgraded from slightly annoying to intolerable.
There on my balcony, open for everyone to see the wasps had finally launched their attack on the bees. There were aerial battles going on everywhere. I ducked and weaved through the battling insects and tried with little success to get into my apartment whilst keeping the war outside. I had witnessed bees attacking wasps, wasps attached to bees, even a set of bees attacking each other. I was shocked. I was appalled. I was scared.
And this, my friends, is the exact and truthful reason that I haven’t posted any blogs lately.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
idolization, floating and contemplation
One of the most compelling factors that made America attractive to me was the fact that I would be leaving behind what I thought was high-school dramas, and be exposed to a world of intellectual learning, motivated young adults and an environment that encouraged and allowed them to shine. Instead I am presented with the same circumstances but with different faces and in a different hemisphere. Whilst the concept of humans being intensely similar in their relationships across the globe is an interesting one I was hoping that the 15,644km between the two wouldn’t be the largest difference. I suppose that anticipating an ideal environment is always going to set one up for disappointment but I can’t help but feel as though I have been cheated.
I continue to go about my life in much the same way that I would if I was home, except now I add in the factor of missing those that I love and care about and the inability to find employment. It is almost enough to make me want to cut my time here in the states short and finish my degree in Australia. That however is an inconceivable thought. Whilst yes, I would find the comforts of home and be able to begin saving to “start my life” it would strip me of the opportunity to travel whilst still continuing my education. Also I don’t wish to cease doing something after I have worked so hard to get here.
However it makes me think that perhaps all things to which we aspire and put great effort into achieving in life are less than the idolized expectations that we held whilst we were trying to get there. Perhaps the glow is in the effort of trying to reach the acclaimed height rather than the height itself. I am in constant battle with two thought processes fighting over brain space; the first being that I am waiting for “real life” to begin, the second being that life is fleeting and I should embrace every moment before it comes to pass. Whilst I know that the second is the more optimistic and ideal option I can’t force my thoughts to come in that way, instead I find myself in this emotional and psychological limbo. Fighting to live for now but content with waiting for life to come along.
Before coming to America I was floating along waiting to go to University, but now that I am here it appears that my floating has simply been relocated and pushed back, so now I am floating along in Georgia waiting to get my degree. Sure there is pleasure to be taken in the everyday existence, catching up with friends, learning new things and experiencing a slightly different culture. But is that pleasure enough to sustain happiness? How does one achieve happiness? Because in my current thought pattern it comes with obtaining my degree and starting my “real life”, however I am quite certain that unless I change the way I approach and think about things that I will always be waiting, always be idolizing. Indeed it seems that the grass is greener on the other side.
So I need to affirm that right now, in this very instant, the moment that is continuous and present is when my “real life” is. If ever to achieve this idolized happiness I need to search for it now, and not wait for it to come to me with certain achievements and milestones. The problems I have with floating is that whilst you are not happy, you are also not sad. With this in mind it is difficult to make specific changes to my life that will eradicate the things which are holding back my happiness, because they are not apparent. So a plan of action is not set in concrete but a plan needs to take place or I will simply float my life away.
I continue to go about my life in much the same way that I would if I was home, except now I add in the factor of missing those that I love and care about and the inability to find employment. It is almost enough to make me want to cut my time here in the states short and finish my degree in Australia. That however is an inconceivable thought. Whilst yes, I would find the comforts of home and be able to begin saving to “start my life” it would strip me of the opportunity to travel whilst still continuing my education. Also I don’t wish to cease doing something after I have worked so hard to get here.
However it makes me think that perhaps all things to which we aspire and put great effort into achieving in life are less than the idolized expectations that we held whilst we were trying to get there. Perhaps the glow is in the effort of trying to reach the acclaimed height rather than the height itself. I am in constant battle with two thought processes fighting over brain space; the first being that I am waiting for “real life” to begin, the second being that life is fleeting and I should embrace every moment before it comes to pass. Whilst I know that the second is the more optimistic and ideal option I can’t force my thoughts to come in that way, instead I find myself in this emotional and psychological limbo. Fighting to live for now but content with waiting for life to come along.
Before coming to America I was floating along waiting to go to University, but now that I am here it appears that my floating has simply been relocated and pushed back, so now I am floating along in Georgia waiting to get my degree. Sure there is pleasure to be taken in the everyday existence, catching up with friends, learning new things and experiencing a slightly different culture. But is that pleasure enough to sustain happiness? How does one achieve happiness? Because in my current thought pattern it comes with obtaining my degree and starting my “real life”, however I am quite certain that unless I change the way I approach and think about things that I will always be waiting, always be idolizing. Indeed it seems that the grass is greener on the other side.
So I need to affirm that right now, in this very instant, the moment that is continuous and present is when my “real life” is. If ever to achieve this idolized happiness I need to search for it now, and not wait for it to come to me with certain achievements and milestones. The problems I have with floating is that whilst you are not happy, you are also not sad. With this in mind it is difficult to make specific changes to my life that will eradicate the things which are holding back my happiness, because they are not apparent. So a plan of action is not set in concrete but a plan needs to take place or I will simply float my life away.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
unanswerable questions
I was just on Skype with Ivy. My screen was playing up and it made me seem pixelated and appear much like a hologram. It got me thinking about what makes us real? Like perhaps this reality that we are living in is just in my head. That everyone i meet and everything that surrounds me is simply a figment of my imagination. Or of someone elses imagination. But imagination seems like the wrong word. But its the only one that i can think of that can half explain it. Like perhaps my body died an unmeasurable amount of time ago and life as i know it right now is a timeless reality that i have created out of the inability of my thoughts, of my self that is not contained in my mortality to die. And in that death this reality was born. Much like the Matrix, but its not a bunch of people connected to this make believe reality, but my self floating around... no not floating because it holds no physical substance... but my self just existing, and that is what this is. That would make it eternal, because a self without a mortal body has no way of dying, no way of shutting down or of ceasing to exist. Perhaps i made my reality to contain these 'imagined' bodies, as something to contain these selves.
Kind of scary concept when you think about it. There is no way to prove it. Much like the faith of something, of a religion. But in this if i am the creator i would never be able to prove or disprove it to myself. That would end the reality, because if i was sure that it existed, if i understood what it was then it would stop being the instant that i proved it...
Perhaps there was a god, and this is their reality. It wasn't born out of seven days of creating but a single instant where everything corporeal of themselves died but their self which held no physical substance refused to, kind of like their self went insane at the thought of dying and created this. and this is who all of the religions in the world praise, a self that out insanity created an alternate reality to encompass their substance-less self.
sometimes i get to thinking about things like this. It hurts my thoughts. I get into a spiral of questioning everything, unanswerable questions.
Kind of scary concept when you think about it. There is no way to prove it. Much like the faith of something, of a religion. But in this if i am the creator i would never be able to prove or disprove it to myself. That would end the reality, because if i was sure that it existed, if i understood what it was then it would stop being the instant that i proved it...
Perhaps there was a god, and this is their reality. It wasn't born out of seven days of creating but a single instant where everything corporeal of themselves died but their self which held no physical substance refused to, kind of like their self went insane at the thought of dying and created this. and this is who all of the religions in the world praise, a self that out insanity created an alternate reality to encompass their substance-less self.
sometimes i get to thinking about things like this. It hurts my thoughts. I get into a spiral of questioning everything, unanswerable questions.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
"I want to ride my bicycle, bicycle, bicycle"
Walking around Goodwill (a thrift store or opp shop as it is known in Australia) I came across what may appear to the untrained, unimaginative eye as a small children’s bike. But beneath the tiny size and vibrant pink and purple paint I saw the epitome of awesome embodying a vehicle. I had to have it, to own it, to release this metallic awesome into my life.
Nine dollars later and the bike was mine!! Victory was sweet, I could almost taste it. But this was only the beginning. This poor piece of machinery was suffering under the thick coat of girlish paint surrounding its exterior. Stashing it into the boot of Lucio’s car we rushed to Walmart on a mission. A mission to free this bike from the girlish constraints holding it back in the world.
All it took was seven dollars and I had the tools needed to revive this bicycle. Armed with new grips and a tin of shiny black spray paint I set to work as soon as I got back to my apartment. For one night it was transformed into a workshop. My bed covered in metallic parts as I disassembled the bike so I could recreate it, revive it even.
The next morning revealed the awakening of a new era for this bike. No longer a small children’s bike, held down by the purple speckled paint and small handlebars. It was freed and set to take over the world. The pure beauty gleamed in the morning sun, calling out to be ridden. How could I refuse? After the reconstruction I have been rewarded with a pintsize bundle of awesome to travel around on.
In short, I brought a bike, cleaned it, painted it and it only cost $16…. AWESOME
Nine dollars later and the bike was mine!! Victory was sweet, I could almost taste it. But this was only the beginning. This poor piece of machinery was suffering under the thick coat of girlish paint surrounding its exterior. Stashing it into the boot of Lucio’s car we rushed to Walmart on a mission. A mission to free this bike from the girlish constraints holding it back in the world.All it took was seven dollars and I had the tools needed to revive this bicycle. Armed with new grips and a tin of shiny black spray paint I set to work as soon as I got back to my apartment. For one night it was transformed into a workshop. My bed covered in metallic parts as I disassembled the bike so I could recreate it, revive it even.
The next morning revealed the awakening of a new era for this bike. No longer a small children’s bike, held down by the purple speckled paint and small handlebars. It was freed and set to take over the world. The pure beauty gleamed in the morning sun, calling out to be ridden. How could I refuse? After the reconstruction I have been rewarded with a pintsize bundle of awesome to travel around on.
In short, I brought a bike, cleaned it, painted it and it only cost $16…. AWESOME
Long Distant
Being in a long distance relationship defiantly tests the foundations of the relationship. You have no physical contact with your partner, so you need to rely on communication skills (yes you have to actually talk to them =0). It’s tough, but in the month that I have been away I have learnt more about my girl than I had in the whole time that I had known her; before and during our relationship. It hasn’t been without frustrations – going from seeing each other every day to not at all isn’t a very easy transition. But I have one tip for any couple willing to try the distance; Skype. It is your savior. Get it. Worship it. Use it. Every day.
Before committing to the long distance each partner has to ask themselves seriously if they are ready to give up everything in order to make this work. Being away from your partner can be one of the hardest experiences of your life. But if you are both willing to put in the effort that it requires it can make your relationship the strongest that it has ever been and indeed stronger than it would have ever been without the distance. This strength doesn’t come easily though, and the effort required isn’t for those who have doubts about their feelings. In a realm of trust and communication, doubt cannot coexist.
So when thinking about my relationship I believe that:
Yes – this has made us stronger.
Yes – Skype is the glue of our relationship.
Yes – it could break couples who thought that they could make it without extra effort.
Yes – this has been the hardest thing I have ever done with another person.
Yes – it brings me close to breaking point all the time.
But
No – I wouldn’t think twice about going through this again because I know that she is worth it.
Before committing to the long distance each partner has to ask themselves seriously if they are ready to give up everything in order to make this work. Being away from your partner can be one of the hardest experiences of your life. But if you are both willing to put in the effort that it requires it can make your relationship the strongest that it has ever been and indeed stronger than it would have ever been without the distance. This strength doesn’t come easily though, and the effort required isn’t for those who have doubts about their feelings. In a realm of trust and communication, doubt cannot coexist.
So when thinking about my relationship I believe that:
Yes – this has made us stronger.
Yes – Skype is the glue of our relationship.
Yes – it could break couples who thought that they could make it without extra effort.
Yes – this has been the hardest thing I have ever done with another person.
Yes – it brings me close to breaking point all the time.
But
No – I wouldn’t think twice about going through this again because I know that she is worth it.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Bucket list
I sat down to do a large portion of homework last night and as usual i ended up procrastinating; last night it was by looking up motivation. It appears that the 57,100,000 links that appear don't actually motivate you to do your homework, but i did find out a lot about bucket lists and as a result have started to put one together. But it's not like any old to do list, i want this one to be special. I want thought to go into each and every addition so i know that when i achieve it i will know it was something that i wanted to do. With this in mind i got a tad overwhelmed at the large scale of things i wanted to achieve before i died. So i started making a list of all the goals i have ever had in my life and to tell you the truth i have achieved most of them.
Played for Australia - check.
Hold a State record - check.
Live in another country for a year - currently living in America (on the way to check)
get a scholarship for uni - check.
It seems that even the most seemingly unattainable goals i could reach when i put my mind to it.
So with that in mind i have devised a small list of things i want to achieve and i will continue to add to it as i come up with more.
Stef's Bucket List:
Own a house, make it exactly how i want my home to be
create a scholarship in my name
travel to at least 25 different countries
party for a week straight
skydive/bungee jump
snowboard down a difficult slope
leave an inheritance
raise a child who feels loved, and becomes an active citizen in this changing world
change the world in a measurable manner
go vegan for 3 months
have and cultivate a vegetable garden - producing a whole meal out of things i have grown
save someones life
own my own business
get published - both a book and a paper
get married to someone i'm head over heals in love with
enjoy several moments when i am absolutely and completely happy with life
take and develop my own photos, hang them in my home with pride
put together a kit car
give a public speech that moves at least one person to change
learn to speak another language - use it
go to at least one large gig a year.
There are the first couple.
comment me with any suggestions, or things you have on your bucket list
much love and a bunch of motivation
- Stef
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Midterm
I got my midterm grades back today. I did pretty well. It got me to thinking about how much effort i didn't put in. And how much some people did and they got worse grades than me.
I sort of convinced myself that i was part of some large conspiracy where someone is going around and paying my teachers so that i get good grades. And then i got to thinking...
Hey, it could be worse!
I sort of convinced myself that i was part of some large conspiracy where someone is going around and paying my teachers so that i get good grades. And then i got to thinking...
Hey, it could be worse!
Friday, February 19, 2010
Another person always says it better:
Whilst perusing facebook during one of the many hours i should have been doing homework i ran into this quote... quite literally collided. And it hit me - the bare truth sings loudly. Contemplate it further:
"Do not fear your enemies. The worst they can do is kill you. Do not fear friends. At worst, they may betray you. Fear those who do not care; they neither kill nor betray, but betrayal and murder exists because of their silent consent." - Anonymous Facebooker
love and a head full of deep thoughts
love Stef
"Do not fear your enemies. The worst they can do is kill you. Do not fear friends. At worst, they may betray you. Fear those who do not care; they neither kill nor betray, but betrayal and murder exists because of their silent consent." - Anonymous Facebooker
love and a head full of deep thoughts
love Stef
Thursday, February 18, 2010
hair
Today was a fateful day.
It was the day where i had to come to terms with the length of my hair.
I had been trying to ignore it; pretend i didn't notice it get in the road of food. But i bit the bullet and went to get some hair ties. (100 for a dollar - loves the dollar tree). But now i can gleefully boast the ability to hide my face completely and tie my hair up ... at the same time.
Much love and 5 ridiculously cheap hair ties.
- Stef
Saturday, February 13, 2010
SNOW!
It snowed yesterday, and the winter wonderland is disappearing almost as quickly as it arrived. Not without a lot of fun being had though; many snowballs were thrown at anything that moved (people, cars, an unsuspecting snow man) and snow angels resulting in a drenched coat and freezing cold bum. But in reflection i have devised a list of things most fun to do in the snow:
Top five things to do in the snow;
1. Snow ball fight
2. Making a snow man
3. Snow angels
4. Sliding down a hill
5. Covering yourself in snow, waiting for an unsuspecting passerby and jumping out at them!
I have done the first four, but I definitely plan to do the last one when the next snow comes.
Much love and a melted snow man
Stef
Monday, February 8, 2010
Life Lesson in Women
I just had a very in depth conversation with ivy about how when she hangs up she wants me to call her right back. When she runs out in a huff, she actually wants me to chase her. When she doesn’t answer her phone because she is angry, I am to keep ringing her until she decides it is ok to answer. I know that as a female myself I should be in tune with all this but I just simply don’t understand the logic behind it. (that and being jealous? I mean what is with this whole jealousy fad, it makes no sense, you act irrationally, do stu… more on that later) this thought process acclaimed me the title of weird and inhuman. But really?! I mean come on; if you want to talk it over, don’t hang up on me. If you want time to think it over, hang up. It seems logical. BUT no don’t be fooled. I have it on good information that this runs true with all females (me being the only exception it seems). So here are a basic set of rules that I have come up with;
1. If she hangs up. Call her back.
2. If she won’t pick up. Keep calling
3. If she walks off. Chase her.
4. If she walks off when she’s angry at someone else. It is still your fault and you should chase her.
An important note is that once you have called her back, or chased her she will have calmed down and be back to a semi normal state (as opposed to the slightly demonic state before hand). Then with a reuniting sweep you are a perfect partner (pat yourself on the back) and you make up…
HOWEVER.. women are not always this predictable. You may call her back, chase her or fight a million little ninja people risking your life to get to her… and she will still be pissed (often shown by the small horns protruding from her skull). But (as I was warned) if you don’t risk your pride/life against ninjas then you might as well be dead. Infact from the exact moment you don’t chase her, you are dead to her.
Think about it..
PS. Yes as a precautionary measure I okayed this blog through ivy first. Its survival instincts here.
1. If she hangs up. Call her back.
2. If she won’t pick up. Keep calling
3. If she walks off. Chase her.
4. If she walks off when she’s angry at someone else. It is still your fault and you should chase her.
An important note is that once you have called her back, or chased her she will have calmed down and be back to a semi normal state (as opposed to the slightly demonic state before hand). Then with a reuniting sweep you are a perfect partner (pat yourself on the back) and you make up…
HOWEVER.. women are not always this predictable. You may call her back, chase her or fight a million little ninja people risking your life to get to her… and she will still be pissed (often shown by the small horns protruding from her skull). But (as I was warned) if you don’t risk your pride/life against ninjas then you might as well be dead. Infact from the exact moment you don’t chase her, you are dead to her.
Think about it..
PS. Yes as a precautionary measure I okayed this blog through ivy first. Its survival instincts here.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Leaving on a Jet Plane
The autobiographical essay that i wrote for english, not really my best work, and i have taken things out (indeed i couldn't even write dad or James in because i didn't have the space - i'm already a page over)indeed some authors liberties have been taken :P
The early morning sun streaked in through the curtain, lighting up golden specs of dust throughout the room. Slowly as the sun rose, the room became more visible and the dark shadowy shapes could be distinguished. The doors of the wardrobe in the far corner were wide open, revealing a vast cavity and a dozen empty coat hangers. Two large pieces of luggage were sitting by the closed door, a daunting omen so early in the morning. Apart from the overly sized baggage the floor was littered with random assortments, a book, some discarded clothing and the packaging for several vacuum seal bags. The bed made the only other piece of furniture in the room. A silk overthrow lied thickly around me and her. Her make-up showing remnants of a tear streaked right cheek, her left hidden somewhere in the pillows. Even with her mascara running, and her hair a mess, sleeping there peacefully she was absolutely beautiful, Ivy; the love of my life.
As I brushed her short fringe away from her face, I gently woke her up, kissed from her neck to her eyelids. Her eyes however bursting open with the loud crashing at my bedroom door, my mother was never really as subtle as me.
“We’re late, everyone in the car!”
I rushed from my room to the hallway, tripping over my bags on the way. It was full of activity, a rare sight for so early in the morning. Bleary eyed and busy, my family were rushing around making sure everything was in order. We were a well oiled machine, Grabbing the heavy bags, my whole life packed into two suitcases, and lugging them to the car. Juggling my 3 year old niece; Elli, not used to being woken so early, double checking for my passport, my wallet, my ticket. Mum; usually calm and resolved, was running around with Jess, my always stressing sister, in some sort of super team, collecting all the things I had forgotten or left out, triple checking that everything was organized. They’re always there to help. My younger brother Mark, Ivy and me stood by the front door, not wanting to get in the way, an unspoken but unified silence over what was happening. Holding Ivy’s hand I was hustled into the car, the trip was beginning.
“All my bags are packed I'm ready to go
I'm standin' here outside your door
I hate to wake you up to say goodbye
But the dawn is breakin' it's early morn
The taxi's waitin' he's blowin' his horn
Already I'm so lonesome I could die”
Not even 10 minutes into the trip I got a phone call, it was Maddy. Her and 2 of my closest friends; Holly and Kristal, were meeting us for breakfast, and joining us on the trip to the airport. Meeting them in the car park of maccas the growing group piled out of the two cars. I looked around at the people I loved, all out earlier than I would have ever thought, making an effort to say goodbye, to make me understand that they loved me, that I would be missed. We all silently hugged, not knowing quite what to say. I cried, soundless tears falling onto my hotcakes, no one said a word about it, even though their usual jeers would have been unrelenting. The eight of us were definitely a sight to see, being up much earlier than normal had given us a groggy look and the tears had left red rings around everyone eyes. Holding Ivy’s hand tightly, and a comforting squeeze from Jess and we were back on the road, a pair of cars, carrying those who I held so dearly. The car trip felt surreal; in the car behind us, Mark who I was so protective of, my friends who had been through all the ups and downs. In my car; mum and Jess in the front, my two pillars, Elli sleeping peacefully beside me, my hope, and Ivy silently crying whilst she held me, my love.
“So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go
Cause I'm leavin' on a jet plane
Don't know when I'll be back again
Oh babe, I hate to go”
Another phone call pulled me out of my slumber; I must have fallen asleep on the way, 15 minutes away from the airport now. It was my second eldest sister; Bianca
“I’m just ringing to wish you luck, I’m sorry. I don’t know how to say goodbye. I love you lil’ big sis.”
The onslaught of tears began again. ‘Lil-Big sis’ was what we had called each other since we were little. Bing couldn’t get the day off work to come and say goodbye. We were often fighting, but all that seemed forgotten in the way of something much larger. Goodbyes bring out many different things in people but universally all the insignificant things slide away. I was going to miss her.
“There's so many times I've let you down
So many times I've played around
I tell you now, they don't mean a thing
Every place I go, I'll think of you
Every song I sing, I'll sing for you”
Arriving at the airport I began to feel really nervous, I think it was here that it really sunk in that I was leaving. We all filed out of the car for a final time, Elli grappling to hold onto her mum, Ivy and I left to heave the baggage to check in, our hands letting go for the first time. Mum drove off to find a park; I spotted a small tear glistening on her cheek. Luggage in tail we made a beeline to the check in. hustling and bustling with all the other passengers, we finally had done everything we needed to do, the bags were checked, my ticket scanned, my seat assigned. With half an hour left the only thing left was the thing we had all been dreading. The final goodbye.
“So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go
Cause I'm leavin' on a jet plane
Don't know when I'll be back again
Oh babe, I hate to go”
Waiting in the lounge, we met up with mum. Small talk passed over me, I was in another world, afraid, already I felt so alone, surrounded by the people that I loved, holding Ivy’s hand, I was scared. Colliding back with the real world I was thrown to the floor in an all embracing hug, Bing whispered in my ear
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world lil-big sis.”
Smiling at me with all knowing looks I was met with the faces of mum and Jess, sworn to secrecy. Bing had driven down with Jessie, Marney and Bob; completing my closest friend group. Squealing with delight I forgot why we were all here, pulling them all in close. The minutes rushed down, with a large entourage of friends and family we made our way to the international departures gate.
Without speaking a word they separated into a single file line, starting with friends and ending with family. This was the hardest point, I knew this would be the last time I would see them in over a year. I made my way through, embracing each of my friends as though I would never see them again, whispering my goodbyes in their ears. It got harder as I went down the line, some of the strongest people I know crumpling in my arms.
It was so difficult I barely made it to the family end of the line. Bing my guiding light and idol told me how proud she was of me. Mark usually so emotionless sobbed into my shoulders. Jess, my best friend and wealth of advice, holding her daughter Elli, collaborating me into an all consuming three way hug. Mum, usually so strong held herself together while I hugged her, thanking her for all that she had done. The last in the line was Ivy. I had no words I could say to her that could express the way I felt now sobbing, I held her; one last embrace.
“I love you, always.”
And I was on my way.
“Now the time has come to leave you
One more time let me kiss you
Close your eyes I'll be on my way
Dream about the days to come
When I won't have to leave alone”
There was a strange feeling among the group, all upset to say goodbye, but something more than that. Afraid because goodbyes mean change. We were leaving the normal and entering the unknown. Over the time that I am away I’m going to change, and so are they. We were all nervous about what those changes would be, and how they would affect our relationships.
Scared and alone I stepped through the departures gate. I stole one last glance back at the line. Nervous and independent I took the last few steps through the gate, the last few steps away from everyone I love, the last few steps and I grew up.
“Cause I'm leavin' on a jet plane
Don't know when I'll be back again
Oh babe, I hate to go”
The early morning sun streaked in through the curtain, lighting up golden specs of dust throughout the room. Slowly as the sun rose, the room became more visible and the dark shadowy shapes could be distinguished. The doors of the wardrobe in the far corner were wide open, revealing a vast cavity and a dozen empty coat hangers. Two large pieces of luggage were sitting by the closed door, a daunting omen so early in the morning. Apart from the overly sized baggage the floor was littered with random assortments, a book, some discarded clothing and the packaging for several vacuum seal bags. The bed made the only other piece of furniture in the room. A silk overthrow lied thickly around me and her. Her make-up showing remnants of a tear streaked right cheek, her left hidden somewhere in the pillows. Even with her mascara running, and her hair a mess, sleeping there peacefully she was absolutely beautiful, Ivy; the love of my life.
As I brushed her short fringe away from her face, I gently woke her up, kissed from her neck to her eyelids. Her eyes however bursting open with the loud crashing at my bedroom door, my mother was never really as subtle as me.
“We’re late, everyone in the car!”
I rushed from my room to the hallway, tripping over my bags on the way. It was full of activity, a rare sight for so early in the morning. Bleary eyed and busy, my family were rushing around making sure everything was in order. We were a well oiled machine, Grabbing the heavy bags, my whole life packed into two suitcases, and lugging them to the car. Juggling my 3 year old niece; Elli, not used to being woken so early, double checking for my passport, my wallet, my ticket. Mum; usually calm and resolved, was running around with Jess, my always stressing sister, in some sort of super team, collecting all the things I had forgotten or left out, triple checking that everything was organized. They’re always there to help. My younger brother Mark, Ivy and me stood by the front door, not wanting to get in the way, an unspoken but unified silence over what was happening. Holding Ivy’s hand I was hustled into the car, the trip was beginning.
“All my bags are packed I'm ready to go
I'm standin' here outside your door
I hate to wake you up to say goodbye
But the dawn is breakin' it's early morn
The taxi's waitin' he's blowin' his horn
Already I'm so lonesome I could die”
Not even 10 minutes into the trip I got a phone call, it was Maddy. Her and 2 of my closest friends; Holly and Kristal, were meeting us for breakfast, and joining us on the trip to the airport. Meeting them in the car park of maccas the growing group piled out of the two cars. I looked around at the people I loved, all out earlier than I would have ever thought, making an effort to say goodbye, to make me understand that they loved me, that I would be missed. We all silently hugged, not knowing quite what to say. I cried, soundless tears falling onto my hotcakes, no one said a word about it, even though their usual jeers would have been unrelenting. The eight of us were definitely a sight to see, being up much earlier than normal had given us a groggy look and the tears had left red rings around everyone eyes. Holding Ivy’s hand tightly, and a comforting squeeze from Jess and we were back on the road, a pair of cars, carrying those who I held so dearly. The car trip felt surreal; in the car behind us, Mark who I was so protective of, my friends who had been through all the ups and downs. In my car; mum and Jess in the front, my two pillars, Elli sleeping peacefully beside me, my hope, and Ivy silently crying whilst she held me, my love.
“So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go
Cause I'm leavin' on a jet plane
Don't know when I'll be back again
Oh babe, I hate to go”
Another phone call pulled me out of my slumber; I must have fallen asleep on the way, 15 minutes away from the airport now. It was my second eldest sister; Bianca
“I’m just ringing to wish you luck, I’m sorry. I don’t know how to say goodbye. I love you lil’ big sis.”
The onslaught of tears began again. ‘Lil-Big sis’ was what we had called each other since we were little. Bing couldn’t get the day off work to come and say goodbye. We were often fighting, but all that seemed forgotten in the way of something much larger. Goodbyes bring out many different things in people but universally all the insignificant things slide away. I was going to miss her.
“There's so many times I've let you down
So many times I've played around
I tell you now, they don't mean a thing
Every place I go, I'll think of you
Every song I sing, I'll sing for you”
Arriving at the airport I began to feel really nervous, I think it was here that it really sunk in that I was leaving. We all filed out of the car for a final time, Elli grappling to hold onto her mum, Ivy and I left to heave the baggage to check in, our hands letting go for the first time. Mum drove off to find a park; I spotted a small tear glistening on her cheek. Luggage in tail we made a beeline to the check in. hustling and bustling with all the other passengers, we finally had done everything we needed to do, the bags were checked, my ticket scanned, my seat assigned. With half an hour left the only thing left was the thing we had all been dreading. The final goodbye.
“So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go
Cause I'm leavin' on a jet plane
Don't know when I'll be back again
Oh babe, I hate to go”
Waiting in the lounge, we met up with mum. Small talk passed over me, I was in another world, afraid, already I felt so alone, surrounded by the people that I loved, holding Ivy’s hand, I was scared. Colliding back with the real world I was thrown to the floor in an all embracing hug, Bing whispered in my ear
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world lil-big sis.”
Smiling at me with all knowing looks I was met with the faces of mum and Jess, sworn to secrecy. Bing had driven down with Jessie, Marney and Bob; completing my closest friend group. Squealing with delight I forgot why we were all here, pulling them all in close. The minutes rushed down, with a large entourage of friends and family we made our way to the international departures gate.
Without speaking a word they separated into a single file line, starting with friends and ending with family. This was the hardest point, I knew this would be the last time I would see them in over a year. I made my way through, embracing each of my friends as though I would never see them again, whispering my goodbyes in their ears. It got harder as I went down the line, some of the strongest people I know crumpling in my arms.
It was so difficult I barely made it to the family end of the line. Bing my guiding light and idol told me how proud she was of me. Mark usually so emotionless sobbed into my shoulders. Jess, my best friend and wealth of advice, holding her daughter Elli, collaborating me into an all consuming three way hug. Mum, usually so strong held herself together while I hugged her, thanking her for all that she had done. The last in the line was Ivy. I had no words I could say to her that could express the way I felt now sobbing, I held her; one last embrace.
“I love you, always.”
And I was on my way.
“Now the time has come to leave you
One more time let me kiss you
Close your eyes I'll be on my way
Dream about the days to come
When I won't have to leave alone”
There was a strange feeling among the group, all upset to say goodbye, but something more than that. Afraid because goodbyes mean change. We were leaving the normal and entering the unknown. Over the time that I am away I’m going to change, and so are they. We were all nervous about what those changes would be, and how they would affect our relationships.
Scared and alone I stepped through the departures gate. I stole one last glance back at the line. Nervous and independent I took the last few steps through the gate, the last few steps away from everyone I love, the last few steps and I grew up.
“Cause I'm leavin' on a jet plane
Don't know when I'll be back again
Oh babe, I hate to go”
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
College. University. I used to think that it was the final step of growing up. That once you hit this point you have a clear and concise view of what you’re going to be when you “grow up”, that in fact you are already well on your way to being viewed as an adult, contributing all you have to give to this global society. But now that I am here, with no idea what I really want to do, and not feeling the least bit grown up, I have a different view. Does the view of when you are grown up change as you get older? An unattainable age when in fact you should have achieved (or be well on your way to achieving) all you set out to do in life? And at what point to you finally accept that you are as up as you will ever grow?
I don’t feel any older or wiser than I did when I was 17 or from when I turned 18. I have all the necessities; I live by myself, moved across the world, am chasing my dreams. But I still feel as though I am waiting for this moment when I consider myself to be a grown up? Is there an exact point? Or a list of prerequisites? Do I need to have a mortgage or have a 9-5 job? If I want to travel does that mean I put off growing up for another year? Am I grown up when I graduate?
On the other hand however I don’t consider myself to be a child. So what am I? I appear to be in this unnamed stage of nothingness. A phase that the developmental time line skipped out on. Where do I go from here? Can I go back to being a child? Or if I can’t do that, how exactly do I complete the growing up process?
That is all.
Much love and a live stream of the triple J hottest 100
Stef xoxo
Ps. Happy Australia Day!
I don’t feel any older or wiser than I did when I was 17 or from when I turned 18. I have all the necessities; I live by myself, moved across the world, am chasing my dreams. But I still feel as though I am waiting for this moment when I consider myself to be a grown up? Is there an exact point? Or a list of prerequisites? Do I need to have a mortgage or have a 9-5 job? If I want to travel does that mean I put off growing up for another year? Am I grown up when I graduate?
On the other hand however I don’t consider myself to be a child. So what am I? I appear to be in this unnamed stage of nothingness. A phase that the developmental time line skipped out on. Where do I go from here? Can I go back to being a child? Or if I can’t do that, how exactly do I complete the growing up process?
That is all.
Much love and a live stream of the triple J hottest 100
Stef xoxo
Ps. Happy Australia Day!
Sunday, January 24, 2010
So I suppose that I have been pretty slack with this whole blog thing. To be truthful the concept scares me. I mean I understand it, you write, people read. A way to let the world know what’s going on in your life. To allow others a window into your existence, or in my case, a way to let those back home keep up to date with what’s going on here in America. There aren’t any real rules I gather. I can write what I want. People can read into it what they want. It’s all rather subjective. But I was just thinking, one of those early morning thoughts when you should really be asleep. Where to start? This whole new journey thing should have a clear beginning. It is in chronological order I mean, from when I hopped on the plane, to when I got off it is the only real grey area. But does that mean I catch you up to speed on what I have been doing for the last 2 weeks and 4 days? Or do I just start from now, 4.45AM on my 19th day here? And then I got to thinking about defining moments.
Does anyone actually know when a defining moment is in their life, or is it only in hindsight that we understand that was when everything changed. The moment my journey began. Because I have had many moments. The day I found out about my scholarship. The day I booked my ticket. The day I got on the plane. Said goodbye to everything that I know and everyone that I love to take an adventure to the other side of the world. And everything that I have experienced from that point onwards?
How do I catch up you, the readers, on my life up until this point. Give you a real understanding on what it is I am doing here, how I got here? And why? So I’m going to skip all that. If you don’t know already I suppose you will figure it out. Or catch up along the way.
So here I am writing my first blog, 19 days late, in my apartment room. I should probably be writing that paper for English that is due on Tuesday, or doing some sort of study. I have assimilated to the college student lifestyle and all the procrastination that goes along with it quite fine. So this is it… and I don’t really have much to say. I have photos up around my room of everyone back home. Random assortments of foreign candies litter my desk. Accompanied by my text books and a bunch of note books, a calendar full of dates assignments are due. A Clayton State athletic hand book full of forms I should be filling out. An ipod playing music I listen to every day. Two bears with the last written words from the people back home, sorted into two groups; friends and family. On my wall I have a table with the times in the different time zones; at 12am here its 4pm back home. So right now it’s 9pm there. This is it. Home for the next five months, and periodically over the next 4-5 years. Subjective to my performance both in classes and on the soccer field.
That’s all I have for now.
Much love and a pound of strawberry artificially flavored twists.
- Stef
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