It's a writing prompt sort of day, so I have Catherine Deveny's pre-recorded Write Here Write Now session playing in the background, providing me prompts. I'm not feeling overly inspired at the moment.
What three things do you want to buy?
The first things I would like to buy, as a collective, is the ingredients for French Onion Soup. It's winter. I love French Onion Soup and there is something about that thick soup, with croutons and lots of melted Gruyere cheese on top that is just the bomb. Unfortunately, I couldn't find any Gruyere at Coles. I suppose a trip to the cheese shop would make this happen. Or a decent sharp cheddar would do the trick.
Next things I would like to buy is a long holiday to somewhere. Whether that somewhere is Japan, or Vietnam and Cambodia, or heaven forbid a trip back to England and France, we will have to see.
The last thing that I would like to buy is a pair of bright red brogues. I'm not sure where I would get them from. Is saw a great pair on the interwebs, but I have too many shoes as it is, so I didn't buy them. They were nice though.
Ten ways you could write about fire:
My hatred of fireworks
When Dad set the sheds on fire.
The power of candlelight.
Sitting in front of the television with a video of a fire playing at Christmas, in Australia
The smell of distant bushfires.
Lighting up a cigarette with the other pariah-smokers
Incense sticks in a Hindu temple.
The mystery held by the backyard incinerator when you were a kid
The firepit at modern places
The pyres at Harishandra Ghat in Varanasi.
Write about one of these scenarios for five minutes.
I had no idea what to expect. It was the part of the trip that unsettled me the most. A walk along the Harishandra Ghat in Varanasi, a place where the funeral pyres burn all day, every day, stoked by the bodies of locals and tended to by people referred to as untouchables. Fires which take these souls back to Nirvana.
I had no expectations, other than I was going to overcome my fears, not that I could tell you why this was such a difficult experience.
We were lead to the back of the ghat on our way to a boat, which would take us to a Sunset ritual.
"Avert your eyes," was the advice of a travelling companion.
"I'm not sure if I want to. I'm not sure if I can," I told him as we approached the entrance to the ghat. We were passed by a group of men supporting a bier, a fabric draped body tied to its poles.
"Shit just got real."
"Yes, it has. "
What struck me, as I passed the pyres, was the intense heat of the flames. You don't think about what it takes to burn a body to ash. They've been doing it here for hundreds of years, placing the corpses under mounds of dry wood, the more fragrant the wood, the more expensive the funeral.
But there were no funeral smells. It was more like an open fire burning sandalwood, the fires making their own thermals, sending the smoke skyward.
My companion and I looked into the flames from our respectful distance. I spotted what looked like a pair of feet sticking out from one pyre's coals. These were pushed back in by one of the attendants.
And with that small act of final kindness, the spectacle of the fires made sense.
This was life. The end of life. This was the making of the ashes. This is what will happen to us all.
I have a free weekend and I'm just back from Sound Meditation. Now, before I go out for dinner-, I get to write about one of my favourite things: Travel.
1. Have you traveled abroad? Where have you been? If you haven't been overseas, which country would you most like to visit?
Have I travelled overseas. I'm Australian. Travelling overseas is in our blood. I was overseas, in Europe last October.
Where have I been? Take your pick. I have been to:
New Zealand (Many times)
The United Kingdom (many times, and lived there for many years)
France
Spain
Italy
Greece
The Netherlands
Ireland
The United States
Indonesia (okay Bali - a number of times)
Thailand (twice)
Malaysia
Singapore
India
Hong Kong
2. Where did you go on your last trip? Talk about where you went and what you did.
Last weekend I was on a Writer's Retreat down the Great Ocean Road, about three hours out of Melbourne.
The view from where I was writing last week.
My last proper holiday was the writer's retreat in France last year. It was awesome.
3. What is the best place for a vacation in your country? Why is it good?
I'm very happy when I go down the Great Ocean Road for a long weekend. But if you're holidaying in Australia, I thoroughly recommend my hometown Adelaide - but get out of the city. Adelaide has so much to offer. Beaches, wineries, great food, laidback people and lots of experiences. I am biased.
4. What is the longest time you have been away from home? Did you feel homesick?
Eight years. Did I get homesick. Very rarely.
5. How long should a vacation be? How long does it take you to really relax?
At least two weeks. If you're travelling distances, then a bit longer. I don't start relaxing for at least a week. Then I settle into holiday mode. I know I'm on holiday when I'm having breakfast beers - or is that just in Bali?
6. What forms of transportation do you prefer to use when you travel?
I'm on planes regularly, but if I was travelling the way I'd love to, then I'd go by boat. I love being on boats - big boats that is. But then again, I'd be up for staying on a barge on a canal. I reckon that would be wonderful.
7. How do you choose where to go? Are you inspired by other people's travel stories? Or photos? Or advertising?
My holidays are dictated by funds, then by other people's experiences. On my current wish list are the following places:
Japan
Vietnam and Cambodia (I really want to go to Angkor Wat)
Mumbai and Rajasthan in India
France and Spain
I can see me going to one of the top two in the next year, with any luck, and some savings. The other part of me wants to find a portable job and work from Paris for six months. Just because.
8. What's more important to you when you travel - comfort and relaxation, or stimulating new experiences?
First up is safety. I like to feel safe - or at least give myself a chance of being safe - so that's things like going on tours in third world countries, or being with friends who are locals. Then I go for experiences, then finally for relaxation. If I want a "toes up" holiday, I go to Ubud in Bali for a week.
9. Do you like to try local foods when you go somewhere? Have you ever had something really delicious?
Of course, I love trying the local fare. That's what holidays are for.
Some favourite discoveries include:
Kadai Paneer in India
Everything in France
Yum Cha (Dim Sum) in Hong Kong
Street food in Thailand and Malaysia
Tapas in Spain.
I'm an adventurous eater, and finding new foods is half the fun.
10. Things can go wrong when you travel. Have you had any bad travel experiences?
Thankfully all of my misadventures on holiday have been minor, from things like missing a connection, or travelling with the wrong people (Greece) to a bout of food poisoning in Singapore, to being humped on a bus by a local in Florence. All inconvenient, but all minor and thankfully over quickly and easily sorted.
11. Do you take a lot with you when you travel? Or do you try to pack light?
I'm a medium packer. As I travel for work at the moment, I've learned to keep things to a minimum, but if I'm in a different climate for more than a week, I like options. Also, as I'm bigger, finding clothes in some countries is harder than it looks.
12. Which places in the world do you think are too dangerous to visit? Why are they dangerous?
Any place with ongoing conflicts are places I wouldn't go. I wouldn't go to Israel or Ukraine at the moment. I'd be reticent to go to parts of Africa. I have to say, if Trump gets in as President again, I don't think I'd want to travel to America. The vibe is not good.
13. What is the best age to travel? Can children appreciate the experience?
Any time is a good time to travel. For kids, I think once they're about seven or eight they can start to appreciate all that travel can provide - but you have to be prepared and plan well.
14. What are the advantages and disadvantages of traveling alone?
I have pretty much only travelled alone. I love that you can do what you want to do, when you want to do it. You have your own agenda. You meet more people, make your own fun. The only disadvantage that I know of is when you have the urge to share the experience with somebody. I've been many places where I wish there was somebody I could just sit and wonder about the places I've been with.
15. What kind of accommodation do you like to stay in when you travel?
That depends on where I am. Weekend breaks in other cities I try and find the cheapest five-star accommodation I can get - and there are ways of doing this. I'm very good at sniffing out a bargain.
Anywhere else, budget-friendly, clean and well-serviced is good. When I was in France we had a couple of excellent AirBNBs. I like to think I do my homework.
16. Do you like to talk to the local people when you travel? Why or why not?
I'm from Adelaide. I talk to anybody. I love talking to the locals. In France, speaking reasonable French as an absolute godsend. Again, if you get weird vibes off people, then you don't talk to them. Simples.
17. Would you like to go to a big international event, such as the Olympics or an international film festival? What would be good or bad about attending such an event?
Um, depends on the event. I hate crowds, but I think going to an International Film Festival would be fantastic. I've travelled interstate for concerts and plays (I'm doing that in a few weeks). I know I was lucky enough to see a favorite actor (Andrew Scott) on stage in London. But the Olympics doesn't float my boat. Also, we're lucky here in Melbourne. We get a lot of international acts coming here.
The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert came out in 1994 - thirty years ago in August.
Trying, and winning at staving off a migraine today, I found myself on the couch watching this gem of a film once again. I know I've seen in multiple times, but it never gets any less enjoyable.
I remember seeing this for the first time in London when it came out and I was utterly blown away by it.
Doing a rewatch of this tonight, here are my takeaways.
How did it ever get made in 1994?
Guy Pearce and Hugo Weaving were brilliant back then, but have got better with age.
Nothing is better than an English actor going against type. Terrence Stamp is as poignant as he is funny.
The campervan thing wasn't as big as it is now. Who knew converting buses would really take off?
Way back when drag was seen as a subversive thing - where as now, it's become mainstream. I think Priscilla might have had something to do with this.
One scene I particularly loved was when stranded in the bush, the group encounter a party of indigenous people - and the boys are welcomed to the party. It says a lot.
Bill Hunter. National treasure. Vale.
It's one of those films which always makes the lists of best Australian films, ever. It still stands.
"Good night, Felicia!"
"Just what Australia needs. A cock, in a frock, on a rock."
The film makes the outback look incredible.
Even in 1994, ABBA wasn't cool, but they played it.
The other thing I didn't remember was the awful views of racism and homophobia, which was so relevant at the time - some would say that some if it is still there. And the inherent ageism shown to both Bernadette and Bob were awful And it touches on the abject loneliness of living in regional Australia.
But this doesn't age. It's still a riot, and funny and sweet.
I'm going on a road trip to Katherine, down the track from Darwin, in a couple of weeks. I wonder if I can get my travelling companion to frock up for the journey. I have a funny feeling the answer will be no. (And the small SUV is no match for that bus - which was recently found after disappearing).
It's one of those films which make you proud to be Australian.
As life has settled back to normal and things are pretty boring, I'm struggling to find things to write about. I don't write about work in this blog (unless is very general). I haven't seen any movies or plays - we're saving that until next week. The news is rather bleak, and I wrote about Julian Assange last night. I can only write so many blogs about ironing or my cat. So, I've turned to my trusty journalling cards for help.
I drew this one:
Describe your 'God'.
Oh, a big one.
And strangely apt considering I've done a bit of thinking about God, and religion, and spirituality over the last week.
See, I do believe in God - or something bigger out there, whether that be one being, or the universe, or lots of Gods, like the Greek and Roman Pantheons, or the stable of Hindu Gods. In many ways, I find them all the same.
Don't get me wrong. I don't do religion. I identify as a wiccan with some kabbalistic tendencies? What does this mean? I celebrate and to a point venerate nature and the elements. But I like the structure of the kabbalah and that gives me a lot of solace. I'm definitely not a Christian, nor Jewish. My faith is in something larger than myself. Not the dogma attached to religion.
Ask me to describe my god, and I can't. I like the thought that God is in me, and God is me, just as everybody has something of God in them. It's like a spark that's in people.
God is also big and small. They're in every sunrise and sunset, down ever river, and in the ocean, in every morsel of food we eat, in every breath of air we breathe. God is the stars, and the planets and the universe.
Interestingly enough, on the weekend, I conducted an atheist ritual at the writer's retreat I attended. I was asked by the convenor to keep the ritual strictly atheist. It was their retreat; I was happy to comply.
"So, I can't refer to the Goddess?" I'd asked.
"No. But the Universe is fine," they told me.
See, to me, there is no real different between the Goddess and the Universe. You can tip in here Spirit too - they all are equal in my eyes. It's something bigger than all of us, and it's something we all have an attachment to, whether to choose to believe or not.
As somebody who's agnostic, I don't subscribe to any pure vision of god. I'm good that god is different for everybody. For some, like the Hindus, there are many Gods. For others, there is one.
The most palpable feeling of God can be found in places of worship, where you can sense the prayers of millions as they have sat in contemplation over the centuries. If you want to get a real feeling, go into an old cathedral and place your hands on the nave columns.
To me, God is a feeling. They are not overly benvolent - I mean, they took my niece with leukaemia. They allow wars, and disease and suffering.
But there are plenty of ordinary, everyday visions of God. Think of a baby's laugh, or the smile of an old person. A perfect rose. A friendly dog. That parking space you find on a busy road. Those small coincidences that happen. Moments of joy. Moments of sadness.
God is everywhere. You don't have to tie them down.
Julian Assange came home tonight after 15 years, either on the run, or incarcerated in a maximum security jail. A whistleblower, he's paid for his actions over the last 15 years in various ways - shut up in the Ecuadorian Embassy in London for many years, where he claimed asylum from the Americans.
Then, after some legal squabbling's, he was kept as a prisoner of the King at the high security Belmarsh Prison, where he was kept in near isolation for five years.
And then they put him on a plane to the Northern Marina Islands, a US Territory, where he's pleaded guilty to Espionage charges and let free after time served. There was no way he was going to set foot on US Mainland soil. The Yanks would never let him go.
And now he's back in Canberra.
There were a lot of people watching the Skyscanner, seeing if his plane would actually make it.
But we are Australia. Not Russia, where dissidents have a strange tendency to fall out of the sky.
But he's back.
And whether you believe that he did the right or wrong thing, he has to have been through conditions that nobody every wants to be put in.
And the man we saw come off the plan looked rather broken. Mind you, he went into this a healthy bloke in his late 30s. He's now in his early 50s and has been treated to the finest the British Penal system can provide for the last five years.
Part of me believe the US Government would be happy if he was still there.
It's one of those situations where everybody's going to have a different opinion. Me, I take my hats off to the whistleblowers for the things they do. I'm not sure I'd have the cohunes to do what he did. I'm not sure I agree with everything I did.
But like so many people who've been in the public eye for nefarious reasons, with any luck, like Schappelle Corby, may he find some peace and be left alone once the initial media circus is over.
I find it funny that people don't know what to do with you when you self-identify as a witch.
It's not like I'm going to turn them into a frog or curse them or anything. Like, I'm a white witch - I deal with the good juju. I don't go near anything from the other side. It's not in me to tinker with bad energy. It goes against every fibre of my being.
Because witchcraft is about intention.
Intention and being at one with the universal energies - earth, air, fire and water.
It's nothing to be scared of. You just get used to feeling the world around you, rather than just seeing it. You feel at one in nature. Lots of people do that. Many find that animals, kids and old people gravitate towards them. I'm one of those people. You get used to it.
And sure, when you're a witch, you have some different and interesting items and things in your life. But:
I own a black cat because I love him and black cats are often the last to get adopted at the shelters - so I took pity, and we got on.
I have lots of candles around the place, because I like them.
Yes, I've got a little broom - but that gets used for energy work - it's more symbolic than anything else, but it does calm me sometimes.
For years, my menstrual cycle was aligned to the cycle of the moon
Same goes for the temple bells, but lots of faiths use them. They're great of testing chakras and clearing the space.
And I've been reading tarot for around 30 years. It's something I do - I've trained with the old head of the Tarot Guild for years.
Most of my 'witch shit' as I call it, comes from what I call the Chinese Shit Shop - also known as the Two Dollar Shop. They are great for incense and candles and other things. Tarot cards come from online or some of the specialty shops in town.
It is what it is. I'm pretty sure in years gone by I'd have been a midwife or somebody in the healing arts. In times past I'd be ostracised, thrown in jail, hung or burned.
But now, as a witch, and somebody who makes no secret about it, but not advertising the fact, I look and act like everybody else. I don't smell of patchouli. I'm not covered in pentagram tattoos. I don't wear a pointy hat and robes.
I'm just a little witch - and like being a freemason, it's a personal choice, it doesn't hurt anybody and I rather like this about me.
This is the second part of the new French take on The Three Musketeers. I saw the first part, D'Artagnan a few weeks ago and really enjoyed it, so it felt it a good thing to see the second part, particularly as this film would have a bit more focus on the mysterious Milady (Eva Green). Even more so after Milady's departure in the first film.
As much as I loved the first film, this second part of the franchise left me somewhat cold. I found this film far more disjointed than the first, which made watching it a little bit of a chore.
The film continues on from the first film, where D'Artangnan (Francois Civil) has gone to meet his lady love, Constance (Lyna Khoudri) only to see her being dragged off by thugs. He is then unceremoniously bonked on the head and is being taken off to the baddies to receive whatever is coming to him. Which is more sword fights. There are lots of sword fights. Of course there are. It's a movie about the Three Musketeers.
At this point, France is gunning for war. The other three musketeers are preparing for battle. Athos (Vincent Cassel) is preparing his son for the fact that he might not come home. Aramis (Romain Duris) and Bathos (Pio Marmai) are doing a lot of drinking, while Aramis is looking to sort out the person who knocked up his sister who is currently working in a nunnery.
Oh, and we work out pretty quickly that Milady is back, which is a bit strange because at the end of the last movie she did a swan dive off the White Cliffs at Dover... and now she's back. Who knew? Can't kill her. WITCH!
This was a hard film to follow. There's a lot going on. It's hard to ascertain just who are the good guys. Of course, you know that Cardinal Richelieu (Eric Ruf) is an absolute prick. You're not sure if the Duke of Buckingham (Jacob Fortune-Lloyd) is working for the good to the ill of the Protestants.
And of course, there is Milady. Yes, you learn her back story, but her fingers are in so many pies. And then there's her relationship to Athos - like what went on there.
All of this makes the film very hard to follow at times.
What I did like about this, aside from the difficulty following the plot, was the scenery and fight sequences. 17th Century France has never looked so lovely. That some of the scenes were filmed at St Malo made it even more special for me, as I was there last year. The setting and costumes are phenomenal, and in many ways realistic. Nobody looks like they've had a bath or a decent haircut in years.
Martin Bourboulon's direction is as punchy as ever. In some ways the humour that comes out with the side story of Aramis and his sister brings a lighter energy to what could have been a heavy film. And of course, the action is top notch.
However, the script is really hard to follow, and this did detract from the general enjoyment of the film.
As a sequel to the first Three Musketeers film, it's great, but I don't think I would like to see this one without seeing the other one first. There are too many things to keep track of without knowing the history of what has happened before.
I'm out of Melbourne living my best life down the Great Ocean Road. And life is good. I'm surrounded by a group of amazing people, who are all writing about their first experiences with art.
Me - I'm doing the weekly questions and getting them out of the way before I start working on my novel yet again. Time to pick that baby up again.
Unfortunately, yes. But it depends on who's doing the touching.
3. Cookies, cakes, or donuts?
All three. I have a notorious sweet tooth. I love a good donut - but not Krispy Kremes - more the ones you get from country bakeries with proper icing and sprinkles. Cake is just wonderful in moderation. Cookies are the one I can give or take.
4. Did you go to prom?
Prom wasn't a thing here in Australia. It's a big thing now - but I think the call them formals. In any case, I remember going to the odd school dance, but as I was a bit of an outcast at high school, I don't remember enjoying myself. It wasn't my thing.
5. Do you bite your nails?
No, that's one thing I don't do. Never have - I know it's a nervous habit and I have plenty of friends who do it.
6. Do you enjoy dancing?
I love dancing in the way that Gen-X dance. That stomp and shrug thing that we all do. I was dancing this morning at the first session of the day - a rock up in your pyjamas and shake off the night arrangement. It's well cool. But as I come from that generation where we were taught square dancing at school and that was about it, I have no idea how to dance "formally".
This is an exemplification of Gen X dancing. If you go on Youtube and type in "Ask your parents how they danced" you'll see what I mean.
7. Do you forgive easily?
For the most part, yes. No point bearing grudges. Wasted energy.
8. Do you prefer to bathe or shower?
I love a good bath, but I only have a shower at home. One of my favourite things to do is go to a swanky hotel and have a read, and a gin and tonic while in the bath, that has lots of hot water.
Showering outside when it's warm (and in places that have outside showers - like Bali) is the best.
9. Does your name have any special meaning?
Pandora, according to the internet, means "All gifts. Pandora is a girl's name is of Greek origin meaning "all gifts.” In Greek mythology, the first mortal woman, Pandora, was created beautiful and delightful by the gods, such that every man was attracted to her."
That doesn't sound like me.
10. Have you ever gone camping?
Not really. I'm sorry, it's not my thing. If there isn't hot running water, I'm not really interested. I have friends who love it. It's just not for me. Caravanning is about the nearest I've got to camping - and it's okay.
11. Have you ever won something?
I'm a bit lucky - and have won a few things. These include:
Two airline tickets to anywhere in the world
$700 bucks on a television game show
A couple of short story competitions
A couple of hundred dollars on lotto from time to time
Movie tickets - lots of movie tickets.
And books - good at winning books.
It's the attitude of gratitude. It comes back to you. It's lovely.
12. What did you last eat?
I was fed breakfast this morning. The wonderful Emma made us this amazing frittata, which was seen off with some yoghurt, blueberry compote and granola. Very nice breakfast. Oh. and a coffee.
13. What's your longest relationship so far?
55 years. My relationship with myself. I'm being cagey - don't feel like talking about that that at the moment.
14. Have you ever been on a diet?
When am I not on a diet? Oh. Now. Somebody else is feeding me this weekend - and it is great.
15. Do you enjoy DIY or crafts?
Yes, very much so. I knit and crochet and love doing both. I do enjoy painting - not that I'm any good at it, but it's good fun. I'm pretty creative. As for DIY - I've pretty adept at putting together IKEA flat packs. And I can fix a lot of things - but that is the extent of it. I'm Generation X - I am resourceful.
I'm down the Great Ocean Road at a place called Seacroft, an old monastery near a glorious beach near Apollo Bay. I come on these retreats twice a year - it was three times last year if you take into consideration I did the Gunnas International trip to Paris, which was extraordinary.
Anyway, I'm fed, I've had a couple of necessary beers and now it's time to write. So, this is my writing blog for this evening.
Who am I?
I am Panda. I have a real name, but I am Panda. It's a good name, but not the one on official documents.
Things that I am:
A writer
An Adelaide Crows supporter
A cat owner
A thumbsucker (in private)
A little lost-
A FIFO worker
Bilingual - well I'm working on this.
Never up to much good
Left leaning
Probably masking ADHD or some low-level autism
An introvert - despite being sort of social
An iPhone photographer
Ambidextrous
A free-range witch
A Freemason
Kind
Why am I here?
I am here at this writer's retreat to hang out with some like-minded people. People who like to write. People who like ideas. People who get me.
What do I want to get out of this weekend?
I want to find some joy again. I've not been feeling the joy of late, time to get that back.
And lots of hugs. The people here give great hugs - and few people hug me in my day to day life - not counting the cat.
What gets you writing?
Normally, the "mood" gets me writing. But I write every day - sometimes more than others. I want to be writing my stuff - and not the corporate drivel I write ad nauseum between 9-5.
What prevents you writing?
Lots of things. Time. Motivation. Procrastination. Doom scrolling. Odd jobs. Life. The feeling that I'm no good at this. Self-doubt. Self-loathing. The fear of failure. The fear of success. I've been missing doing work in my novel.
How do I feel when I don't write?
Miserable
How do I feel when I do write?
Alive. Worthy. Connected.
Ten things I'd like to say to people right now:
I'm going to put this from the perspective of the characters in my novel:
Arkie: To Michael - why did you never tell me what you felt about me?
Michael: To Arkie: How could you live a lie for so long?
Bede: To Arkie: Why do you hate yourself so much?
Arkie: To Bede: When are you going to get yourself some proper running gear?
Michael: To Bede: How could you take her home for the night? She's mine.
Arkie: To Tom: Why couldn't you love me?
Tom: To Arkie: Why couldn't you love me?
Caroline: To Michael: Why did you choose me over her?
Michael: To his daughters: How could I be a better dad to you? I am trying.
Arkie: To herself: Why have you put yourself in this situation.
Nine things about myself:
I'll do this about me.
1) I love the feel of exercising. Strangely, I love feeling strong and fit. It brings me joy.
2) As a teenager I was very good at pool. I miss playing pool.
3) I prefer the company of animals to people most of the time. I love most animals.
4) I think I'm British on the inside. Always have. It's like geographical displacement.
5) I am not an atheist. I don't do religion, but do believe, loosely, in God. Don't ask me what God is - but I like to think something is out there.
6) I'm not sure I've ever truly been in love.
7) I love my ankles and fingernails. They are shapely.
8) When I win lotto I want a house with two big dogs and another cat, but I know Lucifer won't like it.
9) I'm saving up to get assessed for ADHD. My doctor is on board.
Eight ways to win my heart:
Be kind to me
Feed me
Cuddle me
Lend me your dog so I can take them for a walk - or let's go for a walk with the dog.
Let me lie on your sofa and watch telly with me
Be really intelligent
If you take me to bed, be generous
Buy me an ice cream
Seven things that cross my mind a lot:
This project is bizarre (work thing)
I should make time to exercise more.
I wish I was tidier
I love ironing.
I hope nobody comes into my place, the kitchen is a mess.
Have I fed the cat yet?
When am I going to finish that novel?
Six things I wish I never had done:
Read the last two books of The Hunger Games - never getting that time back.
Watched the movie Se7en. Had nightmares for a week.
Oh, that Albanian. Another story for another time. Nothing bad.
Talked to the charity muggers the other day. I am too polite.
Discovered Hector's Deli around the corner from where I live. Look at the link - you will understand.
Not taken couple of pieces of advice many years ago. Then again, I wasn't ready to hear it back then.
Five people who mean a lot to me:
In no apparent order:
Jonella
Blarney
Barney
Geetangeli
The Gunnas.
Four turn offs:
Men who wear clothes that should have been washed again after leaving them in the machine too long.
Men who wear lip balm constantly
People who are rude to waiting staff
People who grab at you / tough without asking.
Three Turn ons:
Fine mind and sense of humour
A hairy chest
Clean men who smell like apricots and sunshine.
Two words that describe your life right now:
Busy
Ambivalent
One thing that I wish people knew about me.
I'm sensitive and I'd like to stay that way.
Write for ten minutes about desire:
I'm an ex-Methodist. What would I know about desire? It's something that is often suppressed in people of my breeding stock. You're not supposed to want things. It's not good to want too much, or have too much, but it is good to have enough.
And now I am tired and I have to go off and lead a Midwinter/Full moon ritual, so I will ponder this a bit more.
I've learned now - ring around before. Find out if, and where, there might be these HRT patches, which appear to be made of unicorn piss and rocking horse pancreas, might be.
The calls were made this afternoon.
Priceline had none.
The independent chemist up the road laughed in my face, before asking if I was suicidal or psychotic.
I had some luck with Chemist Warehouse. There were three boxes of the alternative patches in the state.
One box in Wangaratta.
One box in Safety Beach.
And one box in Preston.
I called Preston and asked for the box, (which appears to be a knock off of a knock off, but the TGA is allowing them through) to be put on hold for me.
After work, I made the drive out to Preston - somewhere I've spent very little time. It's about half an hour's drive away. 25 minutes on a good run.
I made it into the chemist.
I went to the counter.
I scanned my phone for the script.
Only to remember that the script was given to me in paper form and was sitting on my dressing table.
Fucked by technology yet again - I'm so used to getting my prescriptions off of my phone.
The nice girl behind the desk has put them on hold for another day.
Still.
A wasted trip.
Into the suburbs.
At night. For nothing.
Grrr.
At least the car heater is working well.
And I'm leaving work at 2 pm to go down to Apollo Bay for the weekend.
I was completely destroyed by Chuck tonight in our personal training session tonight. Worked me to the point that I got a bit giddy - which might be because I worked from the office and hadn't eaten. I feel like He's worked my back and shoulders into oblivion - and when I call him a bad and nasty man, he just laughs at me.
So, I don't feel like writing.
I have things to plan and masticate. These include:
Going to buy a few more white candles for the ritual on the way home from the dentist tomorrow.
Working out if I'm just going to sloth around in my pyjamas and dressing gown at the retreat
Pondering retribution on Chuck after he drove me into the ground today.
Stop feeling guilty about leaving Lucifer at home alone for two days (He is being fed twice a day while I'm away)
And thinking about what to write on retreat, or do I take a book and camp out in front of the fire for the weekend and bugger the writing.
Regardless, not feeling it tonight, so that's that. Time to put some clothes in a pile for the weekend.
I've been asked to take part in a Full Moon/Winter Solstice ritual in a few day's time and my brain is in overdrive.
I mean, I get to go into witch mode, which is something I rarely do these days. It's never far from the surface, and I do a bit of "witch shit" as I like to refer to it, in my own time, but rarely do I stray into doing ritual work with others.
Like, do these people know how to set a sacred space? Do they know the theories of earth, air, fire and water? Can they work with the energies?
I'm getting the accoutrements ready. The black candle to start things off, white candles for bringing in the light. The salt to set the space. I'll have to find some incense for the air part of things - I'm in town tomorrow so a quick trip to the witch shit shop (yes, there is a witch shit shop in central Melbourne - been going there for years). We'll need a receptacle for doing some ritual burning - for what is a ritual if you can't burn stuff - in this case, slips of paper....
It should be fun.
As a free-range witch, it's always interesting to share the energy with others. I've been working by myself for a long time.
I love today's song, although, until yesterday, I could not tell you who sang it, nor what it was called.
It's a song that I've been dancing along to since the mid-nineties, and like many mid-nineties songs, it would have been playing at the pub in London and I wouldn't be able to tell you the band.
The song's been stuck in my head many times over the years. The chorus gets you. The riff gets under your skin. It's bouncy and danceable. It's a song called Flagpole Sitta. Who knew?
It's ever so nineties.
And Harvey Danger is a one hit wonder.
And what is a Flagpole Sitter? I mean, sitting on a pole for hours, if not days at a time used to be a test of endurance. Now, do we even notice flagpoles, unless the flags are at half-mast. Sitting on a flagpole all seems a bit pointless.
But the other day, while wandering through the aisles of Coles, where the best music plays most of the time, this came on, and I got out my phone and tapped on the Shazam icon, because I really had no idea about it.
Thank goodness for Shazam. It's informed me the names of songs, like UB40's Food for Thought song (I always thought the lyrics started out as "I'm a Primadonna" not "Ivory Madonna". Classic mondegreen. And I still have a dream of finding somebody to dance with me to this song. LOVE IT).
An American band out of Seattle. Born in the birthplace of Grunge, but the band isn't grungy. The song isn't grungy either - it's more rock/pop.
But it is SOOOOOOO GOOD.
I think this might have to make my road trip play list.
Road trip, you ask.
Stay tuned for more information coming soon. The car was booked today. Just looking for accommodation and all will be well. Love me a road trip. As long as there is a car stereo. And somebody who don't mind me singing along, riding shotgun - or doing half the driving.
In the meantime, I give you Harvey Danger with their wonderful song, Flagpole Sitta.
So much for getting this out early. I made some time, and it all went away. I did, however go to the gym and donate a pint of blood before going out to see Blarney and Barney before they take off to Japan. I even got the book group book for next month out to her. I have done what I set out to do.
My kindness. I'm known for it and don't know how to be anything else. I do, however, have pretty firm boundaries, meaning I'm not a walkover.
3. A movie that makes you happy.
I'm thinking of a movie that I've watched again and again and just love, and it comes down to two films. Both are English films. I adore both of them.
The first is Pride, about the Miner's Strike in Britain in the eighties and how the LGBTQIA+ community got behind them.
The second is About Time. It's just gold.
But there are many films that could be on this list.... When Harry Met Sally... You've Got Mail... Four Weddings and a Funeral.... Death at a Funeral (the English version)... The Hunt for the Wilderpeople... Camilla, Queen of the Desert...
4. Something that excites you.
The knowledge that I'm heading down the Great Ocean Road on a writer's retreat next weekend. I can't wait.
5. Something that worries you.
Everything worries me. I'm an overthinker.
6. Actions you admire.
People who go out of their way to stick up for people, in any way, shape or form. I like it.
7. What year has been your best so far.
1991 was pretty good - I moved to England and started the process of finding myself. 2018 was good because I turned 50 and had a good year that year.
8. Who do you trust?
Ah, nobody? I have a couple of friends I do trust, but there are still a few things I hold back on. But I do trust Jonella and Blarney with most things.
9. A Song from Your Childhood.
As a child of the seventies, there are so many good songs to choose from. I was a Skyhooks fan from a very young age. Nobody out of Australia has heard of Skyhooks, and Australian Rock pub band. Love them. They were out there. My mother hated them. Vale Shirley Strachan...
10. What you wore today.
I went to the blood bank today, so after getting out of my gym gear, I put on a pair of black jeans, a stripy white t-shirt (so the phlebotomist could get to my vein) and a black zip up hoodie, with white runners on my feet. Urban wear for a Sunday where you have to get your arm out for a bit.
11. A book you are currently reading
I always have two books on the go. One on audiobook, the other on paper/kindle. I'm listening to Kristin Hannah's The Nightingale, which I thought I'd dislike, and despite the not great narrator, I am really enjoying it. The paper/kindle book is The Measure by Nikki Erlick, which needs to be finished by Tuesday night for Book Group. I'm over halfway through it, so I will get it read on time.
12. What do you want less of?
Work that seems to have a doubling charm on it. Everything I touch appears to double at the moment. Fun.
13. A question that needs to be asked.
Why did the elephant paint their toenails red? They didn't do it to hide in the strawberry patch - surely. (It's getting late - I can't take anything seriously.)
14. The best idea you’ve had this week.
Oh, that might be at work, not that I talk about work in any detail on this blog. But I think I've got the testing team to put in a step at the end of their User Acceptance test cases where they will verify my technical documentation.
Sounds very dry? It is.
It also sounds better than concocting a ritual for the solstice/full moon for the Writer's Retreat, but you don't want to hear about that either.
As a big fan of Pixar's movies and a fan of the original Inside Out, I was always going to see this. Unfortunately, like most sequels, this doesn't quite live up to the magic of the first film. Very few sequels to reach the giddy heights of their predecessors. The Incredibles II, Deadpool II and most of the early Marvel films did it. Sadly, this one didn't quite get there. But it's not too far away.
One thing about this film - if you don't know the premise of the first film, don't bother going - it would be too confusing. Knowing what went on in the first film is critical for understanding the second.
In the first film we meet the emotions who run Riley (okay, well all of us) when we are children.
There's Joy (Amy Poehler), Anger (Lewis Black), Disgust (Liza Lapira), Fear (Tony Hale) and Sadness (Phyllis Smith), Riley's primary emotions who have negotiated her life for the last thirteen years.
But Riley is now thirteen, about to embark on a hockey camp with her best friends and life is looking good.
Until puberty kicks in - and the emotions are at a loss with what to do with emotions who have just turned up on the doorstep. Bring in Anxiety (Maya Hawke), Envy (Ayo Edebiri), Embarassment (Paul Walter Hauser) and the wonderful Ennui (Adèle Exarchopoulos) take over the joint. I really loved Ennui - she was great.
Much of the film is spent getting the original set of emotions back in their rightful place, running the Riley show.
What is good about this film is that it portrays the tumultuous time that puberty tends to be. It also puts Anxiety in sharp focus, and gives an accurate portrayal of what this horrid emotion can be like if it's not tempered by other, less problematic emotions.
Looking at RottenTomatoes.com, this movie is seen to be a stellar film by the critics (92% Fresh). Their comments relate that Pixar has made a movie that keeps the charm of its predecessor while tackling more difficult and complex emotions. I see their point but think that some of the original charm is lacking.
This is a film you could take younger children to as it only runs for an hour and a half and most of the heavier stuff would wash right over them. For me, I did like that the film portrayed the way emotions can change with lightning speed as you learn to deal with them. Ennui, in particular, is brilliant.
Being a Pixar film, all the colour and movement in the animation was there. As I was a little late to the cinema I did not see a short, which Pixar used to release with their films, however, there is a post credit release worth sticking around for, which could portend to a third film in the offing.
Oh, and there was no Bing Bong. Bing Bong was the best thing to come out of the first film. (The film about imaginary friends, IF, has lots of characters like this.)
I won't say I was disappointed with this film, or even let down by it. I just didn't think it quite met the standards if it's stellar predecessor.
Maybe I'm getting picky in my old age? This really isn't a bad film. I just feel it has a touch of "sequelitis." Getting a second film in the series just right is notoriously difficult.
Until: 13 July - season extended, but tickets are scarce.
Julia Gillard. Love her or hate her. And depending on your feelings about the 27th Prime Minister of Australia will probably sway how you feel about this play.
I've long been a Gillard fan, so there was a fair chance I was going to like this.
To be fair, it's awesome. But if you don't like the woman, which the bloke next to Jay clearly didn't, there might not be much point going.
The play is ostensibly a single hander, with Justine Clarke playing Julia through various stages of her life, from her childhood in Barry, Wales, to her schooling in Adelaide, her law degree and student politics and the rise up the ranks of the Labor Party. The play starts just before Question Time on 9 October 2012, moments before she is about the deliver one of the most memorable and hard-hitting speeches ever delivered in the Australian Parliament - and it goes on from there.
Justine Clarke is stunning. Yes, this is the Justine Clarke from Home and Away and Play School. She embodies Gillard, playing with her accent - using her own moderate Australian accent, occasionally delving into Julia's distinctive nasal voice at times. Her costume is pretty simple. Flared tailored trousers and a shirt - with a jacket for effect every now and then. Clarke is not just a mimic, as her fabulous take off of both Kevin Rudd and Tony Abbott goes to show. She embodies Julia - and it is wonderful to see.
It all comes to a head near the end of the play, when Clarke expertly dons a red wig, and the well-known accent, and delivers the Misogyny Speech without missing a beat.
She's incredible. I give them rarely, but this performance was worthy of the standing ovation she received from most of the audience. Funny the number of men still on their bums.
Joanna Murray-Smith is one of Australia's leading playwrights. She's hit this one out of the park. Sarah Goodes direction on this occasionally incendiary, rather funny, though provoking play is peerless. The minimal set, which uses lights, projections and mirrors to great effect, is simple, but it only supports Clarke's amazing performance.
This is one of the best plays to come out of this already good season at the MTC.
Loved it.
And if you can't remember what the Misogyny Speech is all about - here it is, set to music with a professional choir. Just magic.
If you want to feel naked, have your watch strap break.
Yep, the trusty Apple Watch, which has sat on my wrist for four years, the watch strap broke. Broke to the point that even though it's can be fixed, it is falling apart. As somebody who likes a leather watch band, they do have the tendency to perish over a couple of years, and this one is nearly dead. I've had a hair tie in place of the little bit of leather that keeps the end of the watch strap in place.
Why leather? I like the feel of leather. It's very much a sensory thing. I've also got a sensitivity to rubber and I really dislike the feel of metal straps, so leather it is. Leather straps are also a bit steam punk - edgy - classic - but they do get manky.
Regardless, I've been walking around without a watch and I've felt naked.
I have no idea if I closed my rings, something I've been taking pride in. (Your rings tell you if you standing, exercising and moving enough through the day).
While exercising after work at the gym, I couldn't easily check on my heart rate.
I tried to pay for my eyebrow waxing at Myer with my bare wrist, and then pay for lunch ten minutes later with it as well. Thankfully, I had my phone on me to pay for things. Then I remember the time when you had to get your wallet out and find a credit card - or heaven help us, cash.
Regardless, I've felt naked for most of the day. Thankfully I have a spare watch strap at home - the old leather one will be given a decent send off, and I can stop having this pending sense of doom because my life is being disrupted by the small computer on my wrist not being there for a few hours.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a cat's mother, on a cold day, will take a trip down to KMart to buy her cat a new blanket.
At $4.50, this is a steal.
Will he be grateful for the purchase? Of course not.
Will he be kept a bit warmer? Yes.
Will he see it as his divine right to be spoiled rotten? Of course. I am his slave after all.
I think he looks happy enough on his throne, on his bed, under his blankie.
Of course, he gets tucked in at regular intervals.
I'm such a bad cat mother. The poor, half-starved, under-loved, neglected beast. You can see it in his eyes. Just dreadful. No consideration for the cat at all.
As I do most weekends, I popped out to Blarney and Barney's today for a cup of tea this afternoon. On arrival, I found Blarney in the kitchen helping Chance, one of the twins, do a school project for Food Science. He wanted to make a Croque Monsieur.
First of all, what is Food Science? What happened to cooking, or home economics as subjects, and when do you, as a year eight student make something as poncy as Croque Monsieur? Why not make a grilled cheese sandwich and be done with it.
I have to admit that I love Croque Monsieur. I love the bechamel, mixed in with the Swiss and Gruyere, with the ham and Dijon mustard, which is then baked, then grilled. And unlike the Croque Madame, it doesn't have a fried egg on top of it.
Croque Monsieur is a favourite thing of mine.
Photo thanks to RecipeTinEats.com.au.
The again, I grew up a child of the seventies with something called Cheese Osh-Mi-Gosh, which was really just cheese sauce on toast. And Cheese Savouries, also known as Savoury Toast, which I have long, involved discussions about the addition of tomato sauce and whether the bacon goes on top or is put in the mixture, and how much is too much Worcestershire Sauce. (There is never too much Worcestershire Sauce). We also won't tell any god-fearing Tasmanian that the really just a bastardisation of Wesh Rarebit.
Call me a cheese on toast fiend. I'll own it.
Regardless, I watched as Chance turned his hand, under Blarney's make the bechamel. For a first effort it was excellent. I hate making anything like that - too much stirring.
Then they assembled the sandwich, spreading over the bechamel, then some Swiss Cheese, some ham, some Dijon mustard, which was found at the back of the fridge where all good mustards go to die, then the gruyere. The sandwich is then buttered, a grated cheddar and parmesan mix is sprinkled on top, and the whole thing is then baked for a few minutes before being put under the griller for a few minutes.
To me this is bliss.
To Blarney and Chance, it's not worth eating because there is mustard in it.
"Are you going to at least try it?" I asked.
"Suppose so."
"But it's one of my favourite things. How could you not love Croque Monsieur?"
"Mustard. Disgusting."
"Well why did you put it in? You can leave it out. And Dijon mustard is the mildest of all mustards. It just gives a bit of tang." I will say that being of Cornish stock, mustard, pickles and any sort of tangy condiment is just up my alley.
Blarney and I have polar opposite palates. It's okay.
Regardless, I was very happy. Both Blarney, Barney and Chance tried a bit of the Croque Monsieur and I got the rest.
I left happy, signing off on Chance's Food Science assignment saying that his version was better than he ones you get at Patisserie Laurent. Blarney said it would have been even better with ham off the bone. I reckon what he put up was ten out of ten.
It made for a good public holiday.
When the family come back from their holidays, I think I might have to go over and cook them dinner to say thanks.
After a red-eye flight yesterday morning, and an eleven hour sleep last night, I'm working out what time it is and where I am. It's a bit cooler than Darwin down here. Maybe that's why I slept so well last night.
Now for this week's questions before I put myself back to bed.
No. Am I afraid of what goes on during the night, also no, but I know I am a lot more wary of walking the streets at night around here. In Darwin, I won't go out alone after dark.
2. Can you curl your tongue?
Yes. I have that genetic mutation.
3. Can you wiggle your ears?
No.
4. Did you ever participate in a talent show?
Not that I can ever remember. They're not big things over here.
5. Do you have any piercings or tattoos?
Yes. Both my ears are pierced and I have a small tattoo of the Chinese symbol for love on my hip.
6. Do you prefer Mac or PC?
As much as I love Apple products, I have only ever owned PCs.
7. Do you still have your wisdom teeth?
I have two of my wisdom teeth. The top and bottom ones on the right are gone, both taken out in the chair in my 20s in different sittings. The one at the bottom got a dry socket - some of the worst pain I've ever experienced. The other two are still there and are fine.
8. Do you watch cartoons?
Not now. I used to really like cartoons as a kit, and was a big fan of Rugrats and X-Men in the 90s when they played on telly on Saturday morning in England. It was perfect hangover viewing.
9. Have you ever been hospitalized?
Yes, but all were planned and it wasn't for long. I've had two overnight stays after having a gynae procedure and once when having my gall bladder out in the last five years. I'm lucky.
10. Have you had braces?
No. I missed out on that rite of passage.
11. Were you ever a Girl or Boy Scout? (Or a brownie)
I was a brownie for about three months, just before we moved to the country, where they didn't have scout or girl guide troupes.
12. What is one food you refuse to eat?
I can't think of anything I'd refuse to eat as I'm a pretty adventurous reader, though I think Century Eggs, a Chinese delicacy, would be pushing those limits. I'm also no fond of bananas or lasagne. The former is about the texture and that there is about a three-hour window when they are just right. I don't like the latter because I got really bad food poisoning from a lasagne many years ago and I've not been able to look it in the eye ever since.
13. What's the most expensive item of clothing that you own?
I bought a wonderful silk kimono in Darwin that was a lot more than I pay for most clothes. I love it. It's an art piece. But it won't be worn until summer now.
14. What's your favorite foreign food?
Define foreign. In Australia, food is food, and being a very multicultural place, we have all sorts of cuisine that makes it onto our tables. But here are a few things I like.
Indian food - Kadai Paneer
Vietnamese food - Bahn Mi (good bahn mi - pho is good too)
Japanese food: Any dessert with yuzu in it. Sake's deconstructed yuzu cheesecake is amazing.
Spanish food: Patatas Bravas if you please.
Chinese food: Yum cha (also known as dim sum)
French food: There's a long list here, but steak tartare and anything with French butter in it. Love French Butter.
Greek food: Glactoboureko
I also love the spice palate of Middle Eastern food.
And flat rice noodles that hail from Thailand and Indonesia
Oh and for Malaysian food, there's Char Kway Teow, and their satay's are to die for.
In New Zealand there is this feijoa soda which is incredible....
Do you want me to go on?
15. Who's your favorite fictional character?
At the moment I have a little thing for Benedict Bridgerton. Just because...
Firstly, I was hoping to see The Way, My Way at the Deckchair Cinema in Darwin, but by the time I went to get tickets it was sold out.
Secondly, the Camino de Santiago is very high on my bucket list. And like the protagonist, I can't quite tell you why I want to walk 800 kilometres across the top of Spain, but it sounds like a good thing to do, and I've got numerous friends who've walked it and have said that it's a transformative time.
Thirdly, this is a bit different to other Camino films, the best known being The Way starring Martin Sheen.
What makes this film different is that it comes across as a memoir or docu-drama.
Regardless, I really enjoyed this.
Very quickly in the movie you learn that Bill (Chris Heywood), a film maker and baby boomer, is a bit of a prick. We learn that while on a motoring holiday with his wife he encountered Camino pilgrims and became a bit obsessed and took the journey on, despite a dicky knee and with no real distance walking experience.
I think if I'd met Bill on the camino, I'd be giving him a wide berth. Regardless, Bill meets a lot of very different people along the way, from Balacz, who's coming to terms with his wife's terminal diagnosis, the religious Laszlo, who's trying to find himself, the Gabriella, who's inbetween careers, to Laure, who's trying to find some self-forgiveness.
What is really cool is that some of the players are the actual people Bill met on his camino. Oh, and on screen, Jennifer Cluff plays herself as Bill's eminently sensible wife, Jen.
This movie shouldn't be seen as a documentary, nor a drama. It comes into that strange genre of film memoir.
And other than spending the first half of the film wanting to throw something at Bill and scream, "piss off, boomer," (possibly because he reminded me of a boomer work mate who drove me up the wall) it was great to watch him develop, even if anybody remotely sensible would have packed it in and taken a taxi with this wretched knee.
The film gives a real look about what the camino is really about. And with the scenery, and the complex characters and the stories being told, it's made me want to pack my swag and head for Biarritz to start the journey at St Jean Pied de Port...
I'm saving now.
Definitely a film for Camino boffins or those interested on the road in front of them.
Why is it that you mention to somebody in Melbourne that it's 28 degrees, sunny, without a trace of humidity in the air and a lovely breeze, that people tell you to...
go away (this happened)
shut up (this happened)
fuck off (this happened)
go to hell (this happened)
stick a thistle up your bum (this happened)
or just hang up the phone on you? (and yes, this happened too)
All of this has happened to me this week.
Is it because it's cold and wet and rainy in Melbourne?
Darwin in June is a marvel. The weather is almost perfect. It's not too hot. Not too wet. Nice and sunny. Cool nights, warm days. People are happy. You're not drained by the humidity. You can sleep at night.
It's good.
But I'm going home in a few hours. Back to cold Melbourne and a stroppy pussycat, who will be happy to see me after he's given me an hour or so of sass, abuse and a solid dose of the "poor me, you left me with that child, you bitch." (He's a cat, that's what they do.)
I'm a bit torn.
As much as I'm looking forward to my own bed, my friends, a long weekend and the knowledge I can walk the streets at night safely, I'm going to miss the wonder that is turning up to work in light cotton dresses and Birkenstocks. I will be wanting to go and get an ice cream in the evening because it is warm and it is what you do. I'm not going to like having to put on ugg boots and a thick dressing gown when I get up first thing in the morning.
Then I realise how lucky I am to have this job and that I get to live two lives.
Tonight is my last full night in Darwin. I'll be arriving back in Melbourne very early Saturday morning.
I hope my cat is still alive.
I'm looking forward to the cool. I find it strange that the air conditioning in this one-bedroom flat is set to the same temperature that I have my heating on at home (22 degrees). As it's now the dry, I'm finding it's not as necessary to have the air con on full blast. There's even a very thin doona on the bed, which also fills me with joy, but it's not the thicker one I have at home.
Tonight is odd jobs night.
I had dinner with a colleague down at the hotel restaurant. The barramundi is good here.
I've done my ironing, after doing the washing last night. And yes, I even iron when I'm up here in Darwin.
I'm half-packed
And now I want to go to bed.
The week has been good. I've kept the pact with myself and managed to do more than 10,000 steps a day - which the warmer weather makes easy. A loop around the waterfront each night has been great. No swimming this trip, but that is okay. Finally, the hotel pool looks like it will be ready to swim in in the next few weeks.
But it's been a big week, and a tiring week, so I think I will leave this for tonight.
The nasty Uber driver man made me feed my ice cream to the crocodiles.
We had had a lovely night down on Stokes Hill Wharf, where a number of small restaurants are housed at the end of the pier. We'd been told that the tacos were really good at this hole in the wall Mexican place - and they were good. One colleague had chicken tostadas, which they loved. The other had a bowl of loaded fries that could have fed four. Me, I tried the pork and fish tacos, which were very tasty (But I think I preferred the fish tacos I had at the other Mexican place on the waterfront - but they were still good.)
A nice cheap and cheerful dinner.
We'd ambled down there after work. It's always good to get a decent walk, even better when you have a bit of company.
After dinner, we found an ice cream place. I was happy. Hokey Pokey ice cream and Macadamia ice cream are two of my favourites. Rather than selecting one, I paid the exorbitant price of $12 for a double scoop. And it was worth it. (One of my colleagues got the same mix in a cup).
We wandered slowly back down the pier, talking about how we were getting home. I was up for a walk. I had an ice cream to walk off - and Darwin is not somewhere you walk alone at night. My colleagues wanted to Uber home. I was outnumbered.
The Uber was ordered.
I continued to enjoy my cone.
The Uber turned up. A very nice Haval car. Large and comfortable.
We made our way to the car. I still had the cone left.
"No eating in the car!" came a booming voice from behind the wheel.
Dammit.
I am one for not disobeying Uber drivers. I have a very respectable 4.83 Uber score - I'd like to keep it.
And yes, it's his car, his rules, and I was not up for a fight. (He was a very nice Uber driver, all things considered)
But what was I to do? Stay behind and get another Uber for myself? Scoff down the rest of the cone and give myself a cold headache? Race to the nearest bin, which was a good 100 metres away?
In the end, it was simple. Being foodstuffs, with no plastic or wrappings, there was one solution. The cone and the last of the ice cream was thrown off the pier into the water.
It felt horrible.
I gave up my ice cream to go with the flow.
It was so unfair.
Macadamia ice cream is one of life's joys. It shouldn't be fed to the fishes and the crocs.
I got home and had a compensatory gin and tonic to soothe my weary soul.
It is, however, lovely being in Darwin, where it's warm enough to have an ice cream after dinner. With the breeze, and the light and sunset, and tacos and ice cream, life is not bad at all.
There is something to say of business trips to Darwin, where there is music, and beer, and easy company.
Being away from home brings the opportunity to do different things, particularly as the weather is warm and dry and life appears to be pretty good.
My evening started after work, when I donned my exercise gear and a pair of runners and did a lap of the Darwin Waterfront, fulfilling my need for some exercise. I've made a pact with myself to do at least an hour's exercise or 10,000 steps a day. It's nearly midnight and my watch says I've done nearly 14000 steps, so this requirement is fulfilled.
On the way back to the hotel, I grabbed some dinner - a Subway wrap. A healthy version with grilled chicken and lots of vegetables. Cheap and easy dinner.
Then it was a quick visit to the Smith Street gym to see what sort of FIFO packages they have going. I was quite pleased as I miss the gym while I'm up here and there's a decent package that runs over six weeks which will fit the bill. Just being able to go to a gym while I'm up here would be great.
Then home. Eat the Subway wrap. Have a quick shower. Dress. Then head out to a dodgy bar down Mitchell Street for some live music with a colleague. We were joined by his boss and the big boss.
Beer is a great leveler.
It's difficult to get drunk on beer.
And in the warmth of a Darwin night, just sitting in a dodgy bar, drinking beer, not talking about work was great.
There were no plans, other than to see whoever was on at The Tap.
And that was the night.
Coming home, we watched as some happy, tiddly backpackers drive a couple of girls along a shopping trolley along the footpath.
"Youth is wasted on the young," my colleague reminded me.
"But in our youth we wouldn't have had such a fun, mellow night."
It's the second doctor's appointment I've had in about six weeks about this.
HRT patches, at the moment, in Australia, are in short supply, which means many middle-aged women who are managing menopausal symptoms are scurrying to find their medication, if, they can find them at all.
I went to see the shopping centre doctor because I'd managed to track down another brand of patch, but even though it's the same strength, same chemical compound, same way of using the patch, I had to get another prescription. No such thing as a generic oestrogen patch it appears.
That was $60 out of the holiday budget I won't see back.
Being told in the weeks before that these patches are in short supply, I started looking for my next round of patches early, because the thought of being hot, sweaty, grumpy, leaky, dry, sleepless, exhausted and partly psychotic doesn't really interest me, and knowing that you can't get your patches means you can make choices.
So, I had a telehealth appointment with my doctor today, to look at the options.
It's a daily pill, or a gel.
"How can they let patch production dwindle to a point where we're running out? What are the TGA, or whoever controls when these things come in and out thinking about letting these crucial strips of plastic, which you plaster to your body twice a week be not available.
Oestrogen is a life force for many of us.
It provides more than just a comfortable body temperature.
It helps regulate your moods.
It stops your pelvic floor from dropping out from between your legs.
It keeps your skin feeling a bit more pliable.
It allows you to have sex comfortably for all concerned, especially keeping your vagina from tearing or feeling like a sandpaper encrusted vice.
It helps you keep the psychos at bay - whatever your flavour of psychosis may be.
And yes, you can tell me that this is all a part of life.
But if menopause was happening to a man, we would have had a lot more solutions, which would not go into shortage at regular intervals. I mean, when was the last time you heard about a Viagra shortage?
Talking to my lovely doctor, she recommended a gel, still topical, but not the set and forget of the patch, more a daily application to the upper arms and thighs once a day. A bit messy, but at least the oestrogen will get in. And it's available.
Of course, the messy option is readily available.
There is also a tablet form, but that could play with my blood pressure, so we're not going that route.
It galls me that this crucial, non-PBS medication, which makes life worth living for so many women, is allowed to sell out.
It's fucked.
/<rant>
On the other side of things, as I was signing off from the phone call with the doctor, sitting in the tea room, at work, looking out over the Darwin duck pond, she raised the other point.
"So, when are we going to talk about you getting that ADHD/austism diagnosis. You don't know what can help if you don't know."
"When I get more than a few weeks back in Melbourne and I've saved up the $1000 it costs to get yourself assessed."
"Not yet." (My doctor and I talk about what's on Netflix - we have very similar taste in streaming telly.)
"Well, if you watch in, when you see Harriet Manners, know that her thought processes mirror mine. It's a hard relate. Just without the modelling and maybe a little more self-awareness."
"Okay."
"Hey, I'm neurodiverse. So, I don't quite know what flavour that is. I like the wine. I maybe don't need the label."
