Bunbury Bumpkin

Dark Assembly

2008-04-01T11:27:00.004+11:00

No, it isn't a sinister meeting of Dark Arts professors straight out of Harry Potter....we are talking something far more frightening...the assembly or attempted assembly of Flat Boxed Ikea Furniture.....

You see, it would have been fine and dandy and just plain frustrating if it had been an ordinary evening...we could have just tipped out the contents of the box, counted all the different sized nails, carefully read the instructions and followed them - but no - this was no ordinary evening!

This was the evening of Earth Hour. The night that you turn all your lights off to save energy! Big supporter of the event by the way - but that's another story.

So, I had crossed all my 't's' and dotted all my 'i's' per se, carefully followed the directions and looked fondly at the odd litle picture of the poor man on there who was shaped like a triangle and always smiling - apart from when he was grimacing in what I can only imagine to be excruciating pain after having tried to carry the box on his own...A VERY big No No!

I placed the hammer carefully placed over the nail to stick on the back of the chest of drawers that was, believe it or not, starting to look very much like it was supposed to. And then the phone rang...it was one of my housemates...."QUICK! have you seen the time? It's Earth Hour in 5 minutes! turn off all the lights!"

Our house was plunged into darkness and lit by tea candles but I was on a roll with my drawers and I missed looking at the triangular smiling man! So, instead of intelligently ceasing work until the Hour of Earth was up, I continued....and that is when things started to go horribly, horribly wrong.....da da daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

To be continued....

Random

2008-04-01T11:07:00.002+11:00

Breathe in - belly rises - breathe out - belly falls...let your mind wander, clear out the mental clatter....(insert loud jack hammering sound...) Yes, you are suppose to be able to transcend above all disturbances, including heavy building construction during a Monday night Bikram Yoga class...but it was just too rude a juxtaposition of circumstances! Namaste! Says the instructor, and the class echoes before having another 'Shavasana' meaning Dead Body Pose ie: lying very still and being very much like a dead body would be... but I leapt to my feet and bolted out of the 40 degree heat room, my heart racing, 'fight and flight' mechanisms in place to beat everyone else to the first shower - not quite consistent with the whole 'Zen' and 'Peace' theme of the class.... :)

Cold, Hard, Bitch!

2008-01-09T09:57:00.000+11:00

My German friend who used to live in Sydney before having lived in New Zealand and now lives and works in Switzerland was visiting for the day.
"Can you possibly pick me up?" He asked, and my mind flicked back to my first moments in Sydney when he was one of my newest and most loyal, and honest 'real' friends...and despite being practically at the Salsa club I was going to that night, I 'chucked a Uey' and headed back up Oxford Street to almost all the way to the top to pick him up.
After several dubious and somewhat vague directions such as "I'm on Oxford Street!" - the street is several kilometers long through 3 or 4 suburbs...and "I'm outside Centennial Park", the Park is enormous..." I finally located him and slowed down with my hazard lights on, with buses and angry cars tooting away at me, allowing my multi-lingual-and-multiple-countries-of-residence friend tumble into my little car.

Huffing and puffing and muttering about how his hair was now messed up he happily said hello and immediately told me I'd aged after living in Sydney for only one year.

After some more catch-up conversation he declared that I had become a cold, hard, bitch, "like mature, and worldly, but in a bad way!"

Gulp. Ok...I said, as I negotiated across 3 lanes when I spotted a St George Bank ATM and reverse parallel parked with one swift move...(quite proud of that new found ability really). "Stay here and pretend you're the driver" I barked at him as I discovered my 'car park' was actually a loading zone, and I scuttled across to withdraw money I should not be spending.

Maybe I am! But I don't think I am necessarily cold...just wary, and a bit more street smart and not so likely to trust anyone and everyone without making them earn it, well and truly mind you. A lesson that had to be learned, and coming from a place like Perth, where everything is clean, quiet, orderly, a tad slow and where everyone knows everyone somehow, the lesson could not have been learned there. Friends from Perth refer to Sydney and Melbourne as "Over East", and visits to Sydney are almost akin to visits to the holy grail or the promised land. It reminds me that over there, back at home, Sydney is viewed as the place to BE, but over here, you just get on with it...and do whatever you must do to survive...rarely do you sit back and say to yourself - here I am in the thick of the place to BE! But it's something I suggest doing...if you get the time...

NYE

2008-01-01T01:44:00.001+11:00

Coast to Coast with my Dad!

2007-12-06T10:47:00.000+11:00

"I think I'd like to move to Sydney!" I exclaimed one morning to my Dad while diligently studying for the college of law in the Christmas break.

While this was just a tentative, thinking out-loud moment, merely to flirt with the idea in my head - my Dad pounced on the idea like a cat on a cockroach! "Great Cheena! Ok, lets, see, I can take some time off and we can drive over!" he said very enthusiastically, slapping his knee and grinning from ear to ear.

"Um, yep!, great! uh, sounds good!" I said to him. To myself: "gulp, whoa, he's really taking this seriously, do I really want to do this?!".

A few hours later, we found ourselves looking at whereis.com pondering the best route across our big wide country - would we skirt down to the Great Australian Bight? How many times would we need to stop for fuel while crossing the Nullarbor? It would take 37.5 hours of driving to get from our house in Stratham to my friends place in Bondi Beach, Sydney...

The adventure was about to begin!

To be continued...

I am stupid and I am a monkey...and we are all Chimps

2007-11-16T17:44:00.001+11:00

A short slightly plump little man resembling my idea of Santa Clause came bounding onto the train and into my carriage, smiling widely at me and yelling "Hello there!". He was wearing all black with a little flannelette hat and funny black plastic shoes - Crocs I think they are called.

I nervously smiled back thinking he looked pretty harmless, watching as he arranged his bags on the floor and prepared a pillow for himself on the bench seat before lying down. Something tells me he's done this a few times before!

We stared at eachother for a few awkward moments, only to be abruptly interrupted by him yelling in a strong Irish accent = "You're stupid!"

Ah hem! Excuse me??!! I looked at him incredulously. "You're stupid and you are a monkey". Riiiight I thought to myself - this guy has been talking to my mother! haha. Hi Mum :)

He continued by explaining that he doesn't have a phone so therefore he doesn't have to pay any phone bills...so therefore he is not stupid. Logical conclusion right? Hmm.

So, then the entertainment on the 8:15 Bondi Junciton train continued. This little man, one minute lounging on the chair like it was a sofa in his own house, jumped up with such energy and enthusiasm that I was a bit scared! He lunged at me while yelling something about blood and grabbed my ankle - all while smiling - quite unnerving! Then after inspecting my leg announced to all around that my mother's blood type was most definately NOT type 'A' - but he wasn't sure whether it was AB or O.

Shaking his head he wandered back to his makeshift bed and lay down again inspecting me closely. Uncomfortable under his gaze I asked what he did in an effort to make polite conversation. "What? I can't hear! Speak up girl!"

Eventually he shared with me that he watched humans all day and launched into a lively explaination of his unpublished research and theory that humans were actually all Chimpanzees and that I was in-fact a Monkey, regardless of what I was wearing.

Then, he opened his packed of shortbread biscuts and insisted on sharing them with me. I really didn't feel like eating them so politely declined, which prompted him to yell a bit more and then resulted in him jumping up and down at me until I agreed to put them safely in my bag for safekeeping.

As the train pulled into the station he sat bolt upright and charged to the door and seemed to forget that I was there and didn't seem to hear me say goodbye!

But thank you Mr Santa Claus in Black...my trip was the most exciting yet from Sydenham to Bondi Junction! Oh and my flatmates and I enjoyed eating the biscuits with icecream that night :)

Cool, Calm, Collected

2007-11-15T09:42:00.000+11:00

This morning I lay looking out at the bright blue sky outside, thinking about the day ahead, planning on smiling at small inconveniences, not being impatient in the hussle and bustle of public transport, and on being cool, calm and collected - not the usual hyper self I have been lately.

So far so good. Calmly chose a matching outfit, brushed my hair to perfection and packed my bags. I said goodbye to the girls and started to head out to my car, when I heard a bloodcurling scream from the kitchen! I dropped my bags and rushed to see what could have caused this! I found one of my housemates shuddering with a look of absolute mortification all over her face, shakily pointing with horror at the pan on the oven.

I cautiously crept closer to peer into the offending pan - to find a handful of sunflower seeds ...... and a white little WORM still SQUIRMING and WRITHING around! ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH then the screaming that morning in Bondi became stereo! ARGHHHHHHH! DIS GUST ING!

How did this happen? We watched the worm squirm its last few moments of life away and ran to the pantry to try to locate his/ her family and friends. Disaster! The problem is these little worms look a lot like rice...argh.

So, look out for little white worms in your cereal and nut products and check everything before you eat!

Here's to staying cool, calm and collected for the rest of the day, week, month, year...and not eating any worms.

UN - G L A M, O R OU S (thank you Fergie :)

2007-11-12T16:24:00.000+11:00

As I sat in my car peering up into the dimly lit, dirty rear view mirror I tried to slow my breathing and calm myself so my hands were still.

Cursing to myself, I carefully picked up my left false eyelash which had fallen off when I had mistakenly grabbed lip liner while driving and then applied it in the dark at a set of lights – pushing off my very carefully and perfectly glued on eyelash! Argh!

Just as I was pressing the glue and lash into position for the last time my phone rang. “Where are you hun? Have you got any hollywood tape?”. The rest of my samba team were arriving, all as rushed as me, scrambling to get the hundreds of little things done in time for our 3 minute performance!

But - the phenomenal rush you get when you perform and achieve that perfection in that tiny window of time for your show is worth every bit of stress, sweating and very un-glamorous hard work. It’s funny that something like dancing that appears to be so glamorous and graceful, is really anything but that!

To explain how un-glamorous it is here is what a typical weekend can involve.

Friday night: go from work straight to studio, find space to rehearse in a corner or the foyer and block out the background noise somehow. Don’t have time for dinner so grab something from the vending machine or if you are time rich(er) run across to the convenience store and get some nuts and fruit! Finish training and flop home, shower and go out dancing…or collapse onto anything at home and eat a whole box of Digestives with chocolate on the back. YUM!

Saturday: Wake up early, have so much energy, too exciting, can’t wait for the day to begin, toss and turn waiting for the alarm to go. Jump out of bed and do some turns and spins training waiting for the alarm to go. Get to the studio to learn new Samba choreographies. Go and do errands…then go back to studio and train with individual dance partner, realise that your fake tan is starting to run from so much sweat (eww), then rehearse with Samba team – costume run then go home, get glammed up for the performance, drive to performance and perform and dance all night long!

Sunday: Wake up early – same as Saturday…too excited to sleep…rush to studio for latin fitness, followed up Salsa Advanced class, then Salsa choreography class then private teams rehearsal. THEN fly home, shower, go to the beach for Capoeira acrobatics fun and maybe a swim. THEN have something to eat and catch up with my housemates and do washing and cleaning!

Phew!!
But when you get on stage, all eyes are on you and you smile and breathe and everything in those moments is calm and perfect. That is why performing is addictive and worth it all!

The Beginning!

2007-09-06T17:51:00.000+10:00

So, my co-workers and my boss have been on my back for a while to come up with a blog and join in the sport of "who can get the most hits from the most countries per day/ week/ month". Being a professional facebooker and procrastinator I put it off until my Mum called me out of the blue and told me I needed to be keeping a diary or at least writing down my thoughts and experiences! So I thought I would give in to the peer pressure and do it.
Lately my daily thoughts are something like this:

Hmmm...facebook, I wonder how many friends I have now...,work (ok, I know Nige, Davo and Jia will read this so it has to go in there!), Salsa, Salsa politics: how could so and so do that? so and so is on a so and so trip, grr, Home, Home dramas, eww the carpet stain from the leaking laundry machine, Work, Food, Facebook - hmm cool I've been chest bumped by Jia, Work, Food: should I eat some salty crackers or some golliwogs?, Facebook, Salsa politics, etc

But there is much more to life than that, and maybe writing this blog will help me expand my daily thoughts!

Nige, my boss and blog mentor suggested the best way to start was to write about you and give a background so here goes:

I am a half asian girl who was born in Arnhem land. My Mum is Filipino, her Dad is of Chinese descent; and my Dad is Australian but his Mum is of German descent and his Dad is of Welsh descent. So apparently that leaves me with being "eurasian". Nearly every day a complete stranger asks me where I am from. Depending on my mood I either say: "I'm Australian, I'm from Bunbury, WA"; or launch into my whole pedegree history, sometimes I just outright lie and tell people I'm Mexican just for fun. Eva Longoria is Mexican - look at her!

My parents moved up to a very remote mining town (ie: can only get there with specially granted permit and by plane or through treacherous roads) so my Dad could work at the mine as an Engineer. So that is where I grew up! We lived in one of the 100s of identical houses provided for free by the company that owned the mine. It was brilliant being able to go to my friend's houses and know where the toilet was at every single one! My house was cool - we had a big backyard with banana trees, mango trees and a clothes line that spun around and provided me with hours of entertainment. I was also allowed to keep stray cats that came by, as long as I swept the porch, practiced the piano, brushed my teeth and called my Nan every Sunday. We were also lucky because our house was on a bit of a rise and on a corner so we had enough room to put down a big piece of black plastic from my dad's work - which, with water and detergent, was magically transformed into a slippery slide!

My Mum and Dad played the piano for the church - Mum would accompany the "grown up's" church singing, and my Dad accompanied my Sunday School singing. Every week my Dad would have to ask what time Sunday School started and every week he would forget!

Most nights we'd be visited by a hungry buffalo or two who would wander through our gardens, helping themselves to whatever they liked. Only occasionally people would get in the way and be hurt by them - back then anyway. All the kids used to tell stories about how you could supposedly hypnotise and charm a buffalo not to attack you by making a Y shape with two fingers, humming and looking them directly in the eye...luckily never had to try that one!

So, now I've officially finished my first ever blog entry and entered the world of blogging! This is actually fun! Haha I have ended every single paragraph with an exclaimation mark!

Happy APEC weekend!