Perception is key. Or rather, perception is the key; the key I have used to help me understand my YOU ARE HERE symbol on my Sydney map. While others may believe I have been starring mindlessly at the icon determining where to make my next move, I understand my situation to be a bit different. True, I haven't left Sydney in nearly two months since my sabbatical to Indonesia, a place that has supplied me with a seemingly endless line of jokes about the main dish which I have so sensitively named pulled pork hair, however, I have made the most out of my coastal experience, or so I perceive.

Exhibit A: since changing job locations from the city to Bondi, a beach city in Sydney, I have become more in tune withmy natural inclinations and have developed a strong rapport with nature. I am able to take in the fresh ocean air whilst admiring the local flock that gather around the hillside bench to preen their ostensibly silky feathers and overlook the breathtaking vista of sand and water. My perception of my new job is that I get to discover beach life in Australia on an everyday basis, thus I must be getting somewhere.

The defense, HOWEVER, may rebuttal with the reality of the situation, the reality that the large star that marks YOU ARE HERE is not true to size and as misleading as it is, actually covers a large space of that map and a number of possibilities of where you could truly be.

FACTS A: since changing job locations from the city to Bondi, I have developed a detestation for nature and nature's most praised mystery, flight. I sit on a rusty old bench, fortunate enough to have flecks of the paint rub off onto my pants during the brief 2 minutes I sit there. Yes the sit is brief as I am surrounded by the most grotesque creatures with wings, pigeons, if these birds could be so lucky as to be associated with that somewhat attractive species. I don't admire or praise I threaten as the birds inch closer to me, bobbing their heads in a futile attempt to shake up some brain cells that have taken residence there. A round house kick to the face is what I promise them if they get any closer to my sandwich, and that is what I deliver. Defense's perception my new job encourages me to stay indoors more, thus not really getting anywhere.

Ahh but again perception is key. It is all how you read your little map. Yes I could be growing tired of my job, finding the little things frustrating and searching for coins here and there to pay for my train ticket. Yes I could be doing those things but does it matter when I'm in Australia and loving every minute of it.

I perceive that my symbol on the map doesn't say YOU ARE HERE it says WHERE ARE YOU.

Temple in Bali, Indonesia, beautiful view but nasty thieving monkeys. Had to wear the skirt by the way because its sacred grounds.

Traditional dance, white monkey to the left even creepier and touchy feely in person. WEIRD.

Daniel and me, fortunately this jumper he is wearing wasnt in the bag I packed for him and left outside my home in Surry, only to be stolen. It was filled with all his new shirts, pants a jumper and the list goes on. Unfortunately for me this means Daniel will be forced to wear his buggie smugglers (speedos) because they are the only underwear he has left now.

GO the Roosters- NRL beginning of Season. Unfortunately State of Origin came and went and NSW lost tragically to Queensland, we didnt even put up a fight, maybe ext year Blues.

They wish they all could be California girls, but they are just as cute. Ruby (left) and Penny.

Shame on you

To say that you are too old to do something or too mature, or too sensible, or too prideful, is too much of something that I clearly care too little about as I discovered on too many occassions over the past week. As a new found lover of cricket I have made the effort to go to a few twenty 20 games over the last week. Sunday's match in particular is the one I wish to tell you about as this was the moment I realized that I will never be too old or too mature or too sensible or too prideful to push and shove little kids out of my god damn way when I want a cricketer's autograph, especially the one I have so childishly, immaturely, insensibly and embarrassingly fallen in love with, Moises Constantino Henriques.

Armed with mini cricket bat in hand I marched up to the players' bench just before the end of the game with plenty of other over excited litle kids that could just barely reach my hip. Odd as I may have looked, my head peaked high above the rest I anxiously waited shoving and pushing 10 year olds to get the best spot for my autograph. When the players came out madness ensued as every little thing violently thrust their bats through the crowd, and but of course I did the same. So I got a few autographs and pleased I was until I spotted Henriques coming out of the lockers. OMG this was the autograph I just simply had to have, what happened next I never dreamed of nor care to repeat unless Johnson cares to do the same thing at the end of a test match. Henriques spots me, not hard to do in a sea of prepubescent guppies and tosses his jersey high in the air for me to catch. I stab my hand into the air and grab it tightly but as I come down I find that some little kid has his had on it as well, not on my watch. I pull the jersey foward with a jerk, punch the kid in the fce with my elbow, fall back on the bleacher seats and emerge with the jersey! I was pretty certain that a little kid was severly injured under that seat bleeding out whimpering for help if not dead, but that wasnt what was important, I had to have it signed. To end this ostensibly embarrassing tale I did get the jersey signed and I have worn it out in public with a strong sense of pride, not for whose name and autograph I bear on my back but for the fact that all those years of torture and embarrassment by my mother has paid off and I can now without resentment say thanks mom for making me strong enough to beat up little kids for signed cricket memorabila.

Good on You

So to gradually bring you back into my Aussie experience I will start by briefly saying that Thanksgiving was absolutely phenomenal! The turkey (all thanks to me) was incredibly edible not to mention delicious! We unfairly subjected all the boys to a round of thanks-passing the so called mic from person to person and they gave their graces and told everyone what they were thankful for this year-of course they all said me, really in all seriousness it was a great time.

Since then I have been working full time as a nanny pushing a pram around Darling Harbour and teaching little Jas how to say socks and shoes. We talk it out instead of crying as I say sharing is caring and crying is a tad bit wingy or irritating, I didnt really have a clever rhyme for that one. I do revel in the fact that everyone seems to be a tad bit jealous of my job as I dont really ever have to buy groceries for during the week anymore and I get to take in all the harbour sites whilst still having three full days off during the week.

Stephen's birthday was celebrated over the weekend and what an amazing celebration at that! We followed a night on the piss with a quiet evening at his mother's house for a good German meal.

Lastly last night was my last night of tag until the new year, sad as it may sound there is a happier note! Andy and I were asked to try out for the rep team for a tourney! So wish me luck, though try outs are not until February I need all the help I can get learning to stay on my feet and grabbing flags not the boys shorts.

Stubbornness not curiosity, will that kill the cat or girl in this case?

I pride myself on the fact that one day I will be able to tell my children that I walked home 10 miles in Sydney's temperamental weather, wind and rain, wearing extremely tight dress shoes after work because I took the wrong bus home and refused to pay for a second ride when I should have got it right the first time. Damn my stubbornness.

Tear in my Car Seat: an Asian thank you

As the holiday season approaches I have been mulling over the various ways in which I can subject my Aussie friends to the absurdity that is American culture and namely Thanksgiving. Chris and I have been collecting recipes and jotting down a far from short list of all the ingredients necessary to make a perfect Thanksgiving holiday. Chris and I will slave away in the kitchen cooking for hours on end only to produce a dry Turkey masked by somewhat edible gravy and a half way decent green bean casserole slightly soggy yet in no way less delightful. The boys in turn have been informed that it is their job to watch some mundane sport all day while drinking copious amounts of beer preferably millers lights or paps though we will have do without those here in Oz, and at the end of it all they will have to bear turkey carver in hand and pretend as though they know what they are doing and slice the turkey half ass and in various shapes and sizes. Will post the results of said holiday which is to take place on Sunday when the whole family is home.

In other news I begin work tomorrow. I must put away all my tools of leisure that I will no longer need to fill my long lonesome days, namely my Jo Bro blankie (Aussie's love adding ie's to everything) for I will no longer be needing to take nap midst day because I'm so tired from working hard at doing nothing.


A pool was swam in last night and though I cannot disclose what the contents of the pool were because I am more than positive it was more than a little water and chlorine, I had a good time. This pool however is in no way to be compared to the spectacular thing that is the rock pool here in Australia, a clever idea to carve a pool out of the rocky coastline along the beaches. See below:


Lastly a big Happy Birthday to Brianna who turned an Aussie 22 today and an American 22 tomorrow, and an even bigger Happy Birthday to Jason who will turn an Aussie 21* tomorrow and an American 21 on Tuesday! I love you guys and miss you terribly, have a grog or two or a case for me in celebration!

*big deal in the states however unfortunately according to Aussie standards Jason is behind by 3 years, or is he?

Darling Harbour

Went out to dinner and drinks on Thursday night to revel in a little comradery and take in the gorgeous sites. I felt it was my duty to finish all the wine that everyone so thoughtlessly neglected at the table as they went for a smoke break. Awww the pains of being the only non smoker in the group-you wake up with a huge headache. Great night with a somewhat unclassy story at the end of it all. You do feel a little better when you get a call from your mates in Singapore who are also hideously drunk and are sitting on each other in chairs.

All play and no work makes Michelle a nerdy girl

When true friendships are forged-strong bonds that get you through those sometimes dreary times, it is a truly magical thing. I don't use the word 'magical' here lightly for this friendship, this bond was discovered in a realm of fantasy. Contrary to what you might be thinking at this moment this a not a courtship with an imaginary companion, no I don't leave the seat next to me empty, giggle to myself and offer beverages to a friend no one else can see, this is a real friendship with a real person, but before I bring you to the day we first realized this strong force that was overtaking us both I will relay all the fantastic, not fantastical things Mr. Hall has introduced to me: mall massages that leave on sore and bruised just shortly after, proper sushi etiquette meaning how to tell them hello-donttouchamymustache and thank you-tearinmycarseat, race car construction for Gran Tourismo from couch cushions, and the simple joys of car duets and dance to House. I KNOW I KNOW this is proving already to be an amazing friendship but now enough small talk let me indulge you in the magic that is the union of Stephen and Michelle:

It all began on a hot somewhat muggy Sydney arvo. I was already perspiring and Stephen's face was glistening from the relentless Oz sun. The mall would be our refuge from the heat and as we pulled up to the 6 story Westfield we only had one mission-buy a steering wheel, pedals and a race game for PS3. Simple and would only take less than an hour right? WRONG. Leaving a store for intense gamers complete with acne and pale skin compliments of hour upon hour of level completions in one's dark living room, we happened to glance over at a store that promised worse than the boys helping Steve and I purchase some virtual entertainment.

On display were miniature scenes straight from dungeons and dragons, Lord of the Rings, and various other fantasy worlds and scenarios. Steve and I chuckled and made comments about how pathetic one would have to be to enter that store. We mulled over that thought for a few minutes and though one would think we would have walked on to complete our real life mission, we did just the opposite. I looked up at Steve with an innocent naivety pretending to just want to look at the detailed figurines. It didn't take much coaxing as Steve seemed to agree with me before I even finished my sentence. We hurriedly entered the store in fear other mall goers would spot us, and once safe inside the inner nerds came out and we were completely mesmerized with what our eyes beheld.

A virgin in his mid-twenties named Deak in a Metallica t-shirt and wide black bell bottomed jeans dangling at the sides with chains approached us. If we had 15 minutes to spare he said he could show us how to play a simple game of War Hammer using the tiny figurines on display at the front of the store. At this moment we could have still saved our dignity but Steve's and my face lit up and we shuffled to the table with terrible excitement. Before entering the battle scene of dwarf miners and spider riding goblins on a plain outside a dark ominous castle with a graveyard and a desolate crop field, Steve and I looked up at each other and simply smiled, we smiled a wide child like grin on Christmas day, we smiled a guilty devilish smirk as though we were hiding a horrible secret. Di after Di were rolled-a 6 and my dwarf's head was split open revealing it's blood spotted brain, a 4 and Steve's goblin was hacked with a miner's pick, gushing blood from the abdomen, luckily for him he miraculously rolled a 2 and saved his goblin with a magical healing elixir from unicorn's blood. So entranced by the game an hour passed before we were brought back to this Earth.

Deak offered to show us how to paint a dwarf and a goblin if we had just 15 minutes to spare. I felt all giddy inside, I really wanted to painted one but Steve more than likely has had enough. I looked up to relieve Steve of this painful adventure when I noticed he wasn't there. I quickly looked out of the store but he wasn't there either, he hadnt left so where was he? I glanced to my right and all I saw was Steve's 6 foot 4 figure hunched over a kids craft table, clutching a goblin, tongue protruding intensely trying to keep the silver paint in the lines. During our arts and crafts a wave of contentment washed over me-WOW I have found a best friend in OZ, a friend who will enjoy my guilty pleasures, a friend who is a nerd just like me-Steve. After an hour of painting proceeded by another 15 minutes of us promising the other that we would never speak of this day again (sorry Steve), we entered his car and left to go pick up Chris. With the House turned up, and our goblin and dwarf drying in the cup holder we raced up Pacific Highway completely at peace with our day and happy to have found another closet War Hammer lover.


Next Thursday we are going to walk by the store to see the big gaming tournament, just to look of course!