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17.10.06

Love n' Stuff (Archive)

Well, I'm supposed to be writing every day, so this will have to serve for today. I've had a rather interesting day so far. Even a bit busier than normal, despite the amount of time I've spent online today.

I felt like a real Aussie today as I walked about the mall with my tote bags. I felt even more Aussie when I walked around with something in there. Hehe.

Anyway, I went about my shopping and even spoiled myself a little by buying a drink from one of my familiar US names and sitting down in the eating area of the mall. I looked around at all the people and just enjoyed the time spent out and about on my own. I still feel a bit handicapped and am ever grateful for the times The Bloke takes my hand and shows me around, but the fact that I know my place to somewhere - even if it's just the mall - makes me proud.

I also had another first in that I bought us groceries today. Well, not groceries per se, but I did buy us potatoes. In all likelihood, I bought the wrong kind of potatoes from the wrong store for the wrong price, but the fact is I did it for us and it felt good. I was going to buy bread too, but hell if I could find the brand name The Bloke buys. Haha.

But, as I said, it felt good to buy us something, even if it was just potatoes. I like the feeling of knowing that I can do something that gives The Bloke one less thing to think about. I never thought of myself as that kind of girlfriend, but I guess I am. So far, at least, I like doing little things like making the bed. (I'm sure I'll get over that. Hahaha.)

It's not that I feel I have to pay back The Bloke for what he's done. Take it as you wish, but I don't feel in debt to him as much as simply grateful to him for what he's done. Me doing little things like picking something up at the store gives me the opportunity to show him I love him and I appreciate all he is and does in my life.

I've said it a million times and I'll say it again because I think it's so important: it's the little things that matter. The things that say not only "I love you" but "I'm thinking of you." I think everyone likes to be fussed over to a certain extent. Feeling special is a wonderful thing that the most deserving people don't often get. I know people in my life who deserve nothing but the pure best of everything but are perfectly happy with what they have because they are good people.

I'm not sure about anyone else, but I've felt since childhood that if I could make these people feel appreciated, let them know they're being thought about, then I have a purpose in life. I know one has to live for oneself, but you can't only live for yourself. It shouldn't go completely at the other end of the scale, but you need both to be the best person you can be.

The Bloke is one of the people I mentioned before who deserves the best of everything. He also happens to be the man I love, so my dedication to his happiness is doubled, if not infinitely multiplied. It's not only new (new in a sense) love that makes me want to do things for him, it's loving him.

So maybe I'm just grabbing some groceries, but it's one less thing he has to think about, one less thing for him to do, and one more way I can show how much I love and think highly of him.

So, cheers again, mate. Here's to love, appreciation, and showing those who matter that they matter.

16.10.06

Putting Away the Laundry (Archive)

Well, it's not yet a week, but today is the first day I'm home alone. I had a bit of a June Cleaver moment when The Bloke left for work with me sending him off with a kiss, but otherwise, it isn't quite as weird as I thought it might be. It all just plays into getting used to the "ours" instead of the "his and mine" stuff I've been getting used to. I'm still trying to make a point to pause when I think 'his flat' instead of 'our flat'. I know it would have caused problems if I had kept on the track of this is his territory and I'm invading. Which brings on the reason for the title.

Having left me to nap instead of waking me up to help, The Bloke brought in already washed and folded laundry (he's mine, ladies. hehe) into the bedroom. While I set to the task of waking up, he put away his things. I came back into the bedroom just as he was finishing, and when he did, he said, "I'll leave you to sort out your drawers."

I stared blankly at my clothes on the end of the bed for a moment, kind of in a trance. My drawers? And he'd folded my laundry right along with his. I looked at the closet where my jacket already hung, then at the dresser by my side of the bed which he'd already cleaned out for my use.

I put away the laundry from the wash and then slowly began putting away the clothes that had been like the guts of my luggage bag spewed all over. All along, as piece by piece was put in its proper place, I became less of a visitor and more of a permanent resident.

I thought I'd already had that feeling down, but the luggage bag with my clothes still in it had been a bit of hook back into the "just visiting" thing. Finally getting all that done and wheeling my bag into the spare room felt good. Very good. It makes me eager for spreading out a little bit more as I go.

Yes. Laundry. Exciting. Right.

Haha. As always, these blog posts are just my musings about the things going on. It still amazes me that somehow I have the good fortune to go have lunch in a beautiful park with the man I love, to see the ocean and feel the waves crash around my legs, or even to try all the new foods I have. (Suuushi. *drool*)

With all this, I know I can't remember every last bit forever, but I'm sure going to try.

14.10.06

Settling In (Archive)

Well, in a couple days I'll have been in Oz for a week. Things are settling nicely and jetlag seems to have not been a problem. The Bloke helped keep me awake for a good amount of the time, and I think flying that many hours just messes up your sleeping anyway. Things have been seeming to catch up with me a bit, but I still woke up and stayed up before The Bloke did this morning, so I figure I'm pretty good. Hehe.

I'm not sure what I expected of living with another person, but what I am experiencing now... Well, it doesn't go with nor contradict anything in my mind. I've said it a million times, and I'll say it again: Being here feels like coming home. I've always been pretty happy plopped down anywhere as long as my basic needs - food, water, shelter, safety - are met. Still, I didn't expect everything to click to quite the extent they have. From sharing bedspace to sharing a laundry basket, I seem to have accustomed quickly and well.

As far as so-called homesickness, I haven't had any. I do feel a little displaced every now and then, but otherwise, I'm fine. I don't actually think about where I came from all that much. Sometimes I ponder what they're doing or saying about me, but I can't really work out what that might be, so the thoughts usually quickly pass.

I'm not quite sure what that means for me. I want to be romantic and say that my home, The Bloke, has been here waiting for me all along. But, of course, I have to analyze everything. Given that if I don't attach here, I won't attach anywhere, I sincerely hope I attach here. I think I will. I wonder what that will feel like, though. Do I already feel it in my feelings of "rightness" and familiarity and just not recognize it? Or is it yet to come and settle within me? I'd like to know.

Anyway, I'm rambling a bit, but I've been thinking a lot about my new world lately, and my thoughts, like this blog post, tend to wander as they please.

So, for anyone who cares to know, the vacation is waning and "real" life is settling in. But, I have yet to dislike the feeling. Life is still pretty damn good.

12.10.06

The Adventure (Archive)

When I was a little girl, I used to dream of being taken away from what I called home and being thrown into another world where I would have to learn the language, customs, traditions, etc of the people who lived wherever I had been taken. Now, over a decade later and little girl turned grown woman, I find that my childhood fantasies are coming true all around me.

I'm in a new place where they speak English but...kind of not. (Or is it me who speaks kind of not English?) I find myself looking at their strange money which survived being doused by ocean waves in my pocket looking no worse for wear, whereas American money would have fused together into a green, booger-looking thing. I've already become quite accustomed to the "Great Australian Wave". *waves hand in front of face to shoo away flies* I've also gone down to the pub (nope, not the bar) with The Bloke and had my first legal drinks. (Well, not technically first. I had a daquiri with my salad the first day here.)

And, as hard as I try to resist, I find myself at least trying to mimic the sound of the local tongue. I know I have to sound like a lunatic, going in and out from American to attempted Oz with a bit of Londoner in there too, I think. ;) I can't help myself, though. This is what I wanted since before I knew where Australia was. So, I blunder about a bit, but I think it's much to the amusement of those around me, which makes me laugh in the end anyway.

So, the adventure continues, and the American in Oz falls a little more in love with this world, this life, every day.

I think, in my case, this is turning into one of those things you smack your head and mutter, "Why didn't I do this sooner?" for. That's okay, though, because I'm not the only one involved with life change, and I know he had to be ready for me to be here too.

When I was little and dreaming of my new life, I wondered what I would miss of the life before. What did I care enough about to miss? Was there anything? Did I even feel any attachment to that place? I wondered the same thing often as I looked out the plane window on the way over here.

As of yet, there's nothing I miss. Not even my cat, sadly enough. It's not for lack of attention to the subject, because I have thought about it. I guess children are a bit more aware of themselves than one would think. I knew then as I know now that my place was never there.

Now that I'm away, I'm happy. Just as I thought I would be.

So, cheers, mate. Here's to following your heart.

7.10.06

Closer and Closer (Archive)

Well, the day of the flight is getting closer and strangely, I find myself calming a bit. As I told Hawke, I'm having a very serene day. Everything is in place and I just have to show up where and when I'm expected. I have this very strong sense that everything is going to be alright. I think that has a lot to do with the thoughts The Bloke and Hawke have been sending me (or trying and hitting against my dense wall of a head :P) for a while now.

I'm going to get my carry-on ready tonight. Heaven knows I'll forget something, so it's best to have my most important bits ready to go early. (Bloke - no comments about my important bits.)

Hawke always likes to remind me that everything happens for a reason. Well, strangely enough, on my last weekend at home, the family is having a get-together. I'll be able to make goodbyes (be them silent goodbyes) should I wish to do so. I'm even doubling up with Big W tonight for bowling because my mother can't bowl. I figure that's a nice little "coincidence".

Were I at a different point in my life, I would take this as a sign I should stay home. Or I would guilt myself into staying home. I was about to, too, but something happened today that reminded me of one of the reasons I'm leaving.

[...taken out...]

That's not the only reason I'm leaving, of course, but it reminded me of one facet of why I'm doing this. I'm not just taking another step with the man I love, I'm taking a step for me. I'm standing up for myself and finally claiming my life. It's mine and I'll do with it as I please. Maybe I'll fall and stumble, but at least I'll have only myself to hold accountable for it.

I know I'm rambling, but after things seeming unreal, then freaking out a bit last night, it feels good to stand so strong on my convictions. My decisions. MY decisions. It's a wonderful feeling.

4.10.06

Of Course I'm Nervous (Archives)

Four days to go in counting. Tomorrow is my last day at work, and I guess I get a sending off party. It's funny how so little time ago, I thought it would take ages for this time, this milestone counting down to my trip, to come. I waited to get through hell week at work. I waited until my last day. I'm waiting until the night I pack. I'm waiting for the moment I get in the van taking me to the airport...

I'm not sure if this is odd or not, but I'm honestly nervous for the both of us. Looking at it from The Bloke's perspective, or what I think is his perspective, I begin to feel like some exotic flower being transplanted. To be taken care of with love and watched over carefully. I know it's been a while he's lived with someone of either gender. It's only natural to be nervous about accustoming yourself to someone who isn't your gender, isn't your age, and in this case, isn't even used to living in a city flat.

Then I'm nervous for myself. I'm leaving all I've ever known for all I've ever wanted. The key in that, though, is the leaving all I've ever known. I'm not nervous for living with someone because I usually just set up my little corner and am happy with that, but I am nervous for living with a guy. I'm nervous about all my little habits...

For instance, I bite my nails. Gross of grossness, but I'll admit it. (Oct 2008 Update: I don't anymore.)

I also like to have a box of kleenex next to any computer I work at. Even at work when I have to print price stickers, I have a box of kleenex by me. (Oct 2008 Update: Not so much anymore...)

Even if I've washed it out right after I drank the milk, I don't like using the same glass for milk twice if it's been long enough between one glass and the next. (Oct 2008 Update: I don't drink milk straight anymore.)

Also, and I'll try to rein myself in or The Bloke will have to break me of this, I usually have bottles everywhere. Of water, gatorade, orange juice, apple juice... It's not really out of place for me to have three to six bottles of different drinks in the fridge at one time. (Oct 2008 Update: Hasn't changed one bit except all the bottles are filled with water.)

If I eat M&Ms, I'll bite them in half if I'm eating them one at a time, or I'll eat two at a time. No other way. (Oct 2008 Update: Still the same.)

When I'm restless, I'll clean.(Oct 2008 Update: Still the same, but I rarely feel restless anymore.)

I dance in the rain. I'm serious. I also like to splash in puddles. (Oct 2008 Update: Same, but I don't do it as much because we have neighbors. )

I also just dance a lot. I try to do it when no one is looking, but... (Oct 2008 Update: Hasn't changed.)

I also have pretty much no sense of fashion, but I'm working on that. (Oct 2008 Update: Still working on it.)

I've also been known to button shirts up wrong, wear things backwards, etc (Oct 2008 Update: Only rarely, these days.)

Also, probably one of the most random, weird things about me... I can't stand to have the television volume on an odd number unless that number is 51. (Oct 2008 Update: I couldn't care less anymore, just so long as I can hear the tele.)

So, because of these things and others, I'm nervous for myself. But, I figure we'll make it because, frankly, if we've made it through what we've made it through so far, we can get through anything. So, here we are, still counting down...

24.9.06

The Countdown Begins (Archives)

Lalalalalala...