treasure: Stuart Lind Taylor, 30 year old person

Stu,

I forgot your birthday card, but I hadn't written it yet, so it's ok. This way I get an extended word limit.

Stuart Lind Taylor. It’s your 30th birthday today, and I have known you since before I remember. You (I imagine) were the first person to help me to realise there were other people in the world as important as I was. You burst that only child bubble I lived in, in (most likely) the best possible way, and forced me to grow up and be better, to lead you and boss you into shape, to defend and protect someone else.

I like to imagine once I got over the shock of you, I boasted about you constantly; an extension of me after all, and between the two of us a force to be reckoned with. There’s actual video footage of me not sharing my toys with your curious hands - now, I choose to spin that into a valuable life lesson about pushing hard for what you want, because in the end you did have that one wooden block in your determined grasp. While it’s strange to imagine a world without our third part, Hugh Lind Taylor, that time did exist, and you (probably) taught me some of the most important things about loving someone without wanting anything from them. About good company that comes guaranteed, free of charge.

We’re so glad for Hugh - I'm sure that his arrival taught you the same things you taught me. This short love story I’m telling is almost as much about Hugh and me as is it about you, Stu, because we’re all different bits of the same thing.

We grew up and learned ways to stretch each other’s arms, legs and imaginations - where I bossed you into reading, your bravery forced me onto bikes down hills with no hands, and up trees without thinking about what girls were meant to do. We produced short films and dramatic recreations of Titanic, and you willingly obeyed my direction on countless weekends. You and Hugh were my favourite people to boss.

When I try to remember you as a teenager I honestly mostly draw a blank - that was the time I was facing inwards, and taking for granted you’d appear at the dinner table every night. I’m sure we were both cause for the other’s eye-rolls on more than one occasion, but I’m also sure we co-existed (mostly) pleasantly. With my fiery self, I’m sure this peace was down to you, because it’s the peace we all still find in your company; the peace that holds power, and acceptance, and patience.

Stu Taylor, you sort of amaze me. You’re always there, even when you’re 12 hours deep in night shift, or on the other side of the world on adventures. You’re there with us, talking shit and building the base from which your two (slightly less peaceful) siblings can launch into whichever rant we choose. You let us be exactly who we are, and you love us for exactly that. You allow us to celebrate all the victories you’ve arrived at. We get to hear your stories, to know more and more about you, and it’s treasured knowledge.

I’m biased, but you’re golden, and I won’t be challenged on that point. I keep learning things from you, and when I’m not quite sure about anything, there you are. Setting the earth straight.

Stu Lind Taylor. All three of us share that middle name, the one that used to embarrass me to explain or say out loud. I love that we all have it now - you and Hugh are my best friends and the ones most likely to be held up in the shape of an example by which the rest of the human race are measured.

I really can’t hope for more than for you to know how well loved and admired you are - by me, forever, and by everyone who’s lucky enough to know you. I hope you know, Stu, and feel that love as the world turns to wish you a happy 30th birthday.

If this is what you can do with 30 years, I can’t wait to be there with you for the next 30.

Lots of love for all the days

Helen Lind Taylor

treasure: families

i am a lucky enough girl to have plenty of families. there are the families we are born into, and the families we make for ourselves. i've spent the past 6 weeks immersed in family.  'tis the season for family, Christmas and New Years', and man oh man did we win at it.

i hereby provide exhibit a: photographic evidence.

 

 

Thanks to Karin, Mitch & Mark for borrowed photography

exhibit b: stories and contemplation

it was just the right amount of fun and downtime, and my love for all these people only grew in the time i was lucky enough to spend with them. it was the first time in probably 2 years that me and the whistler gang had all been together, looking each other in the eye instead of over Skype, or on Facebook and Instagram. i think the main thing i noticed was just how much we appreciated each other, and just how much of a family we were.

when you're in whistler, you're in the thick of things- part of what i loved about that was you tend to live in the 'right now' of your life, without too much thought past the next payday. it's a kind of freedom you don't tend to get for a long time in your life, and should be whole-heartedly enjoyed. what i never did a lot of at the time was to appreciate what long-lasting friendships i was setting up with every potluck dinner, every day on the mountain, every night out dancing at Bill's, every moment dressed up in costume. this is the stuff true love is made of; people who are on your wavelength, who agree with you (and disagree with you too), who laugh with you and commiserate with you and fill your days up with company.

when you leave whistler, and go your separate ways, you suddenly realise how lovely that all was, with the pang of retrospective contemplation and a realisation that Other People (people that haven't been to whis) do not think it's ok to have a double caesar for breakfast on your days off.

meeting up again 2 years later for the wedding of kate and phill was just a wonderful choice. it made me realise how we have all grown and changed, but miraculously we're all still awesome in slightly different ways. the world outside of whistler has been bearing down on us and we've all risen to the challenge. we're all proud of each other the way family is, and fiercely so. we all partied and wore the shit out of our dragon onesies (an awesome purchase and another wonderful choice), drank double caesars for breakfast and ate eggs benny, a Karin Rofors speciality. we re-lived some of the best bits of whistler, but it was really about us being together. and together we were. in cars, on beaches, in planes and on trains, in houses, in tents, in hammocks, on decks, in marquees, on dance floors, in limousines, in vans, in tow trucks, in beds, in cabins, on SkyDeck, on Facebook and Instagram.

we were everywhere in our togetherness.

now, we are apart again. it's a little bit sad, but truthfully the together part was so much fun and so powerful in its ability to make me feel both grounded and filled with helium excitement that i can't feel too sad for too long.

i think life is about the people you miss as a flipside of togetherness. there are always people to miss - it's the life of a traveller, and we all love to travel. it's the people that you meet that make you who you are, and these people are all parts of me, in their sticky happy fizzy ways.

sending you love, dragon and non-dragon friends. all of the love.

do you even know how much i love you?

Friday Feminism - going global

I guess I'm starting big by encouraging you to think global, but it's a timely thing (and yes, I know it's not technically Friday- let's call this a special edition). My cousin, Sarah Taylor, has worked for days, weeks, months and years at this amazing project of hers, White Circles. She has put the project out to crowdfunding (that's you, me, and everyone else) to ensure its continued development and success, and there are 10 days left for her to hit her goal.

Sarah has been working to help women in the village of Nangi in Nepal. White Circles is in partnership with the Nangi women's group to ensure support and development of a trade of their own, namely papermaking. This becomes a source of income in the community which has an immediate and noticeable impact for the people of Nangi Village. The money raised is helping with support for the local higher secondary school- it pays teacher's wages. Also, this income is helping to build an ecotourism lodge, which offers the possbility of more income.

Why is this a Feminist issue? A number of reasons.

1) The obvious benefits of education through a school which is put together by Nepali people themselves ensures bright futures for young minds who deserve to be nourished, in a way that is in keeping with their culture and way of life. Feminism aims to support people bettering themselves on their terms, offering knowledge and equality on a level that is respectful of the individual.

2) The nourishing input of women into their community has been a fact of life for countless time, but it is also a form of input that is unpaid or unrecognised, as a simple expectation. A project that encourages and builds upon the input of these women gives them a certain recognition of their value. Teaching these women skills that can be re-taught, skills that become part of their lives, affects real change to each pair of hands used in the teaching, and the making. Sarah observes that in working with these women, she can see a ripple effect, where these women have their children, family and community firmly at the forefront of their minds. As a result, this input has undeniable impact in a great many lives. Community building and connectivity are enabling forces which can grow and support these women, their families, their village, their country.

3) The vision of this project implicitly values creativity, which is often associated with women and therefore given less value. Creating something that is received and appreciated on a global level (their products are sold in Australia right up to corporate level) carries a value far beyond dollars and cents.

4) The product itself is the paper; it is made from the Lotka, a plant which can be sustainably harvested every two years without depleting the resource. Feminism sees sustainability as an alternate way to live on the earth that doesn't over-use all the resources; it is a way forward that does not value destruction and depletion, offers up a respectful and balanced relationship with our natural environment, and is really our only option if we want to keep living on our planet!

Giving money to this project offers this amazing, selfless, driven person (yep, that's you, Sarah) not only the chance to continue her work, but to expand and offer this model up to neighbouring villages. In our world, offering up a few dollars translates as so much more to a small village in Nepal.

Not only would you be doing a good thing for the women of a third world country with your donation, you would be sending Sarah herself a message that we see all she is doing, as a young woman, and that we value her and her work, and her incredible energy. That we believe in her.

And I think that's what Feminism is all about.



Helpful links:

Crowdfund through StartSomeGood - choose your reward from anywhere between $6 and $460. Crowdfunding means that until the tipping goal is reached at the end of the fundraising period, the money doesn't come out of your account. Your donation actually depends on Sarah's success with this crowdfunding goal - so brag about it to your friends and family once you've pledged your financial support!

White Circles website - for all details great and small on White Circles.

For the Love of Nepal - Sarah's blog, which offers some wonderful personal insight on her journey into developing this project, as well as some great photos and information.

The intention of this is to support the community and most importantly, it's higher secondary school. In the last 3 years we have trained and employed more than 15 women. We have generated enough funding in Nangi Village to account for the teacher's wages and helped in the building of an eco tourism lodge. - See more at: http://startsomegood.com/Venture/white_circles_global_trading/Campaigns/Show/continued_support_for_nepali_women_and_education#sthash.UPqD9Doq.dpuf

The intention of this is to support the community and most importantly, it's higher secondary school. In the last 3 years we have trained and employed more than 15 women. We have generated enough funding in Nangi Village to account for the teacher's wages and helped in the building of an eco tourism lodge. - See more at: http://startsomegood.com/Venture/white_circles_global_trading/Campaigns/Show/continued_support_for_nepali_women_and_education#sthash.UPqD9Doq.dpuf

The intention of this is to support the community and most importantly, it's higher secondary school. In the last 3 years we have trained and employed more than 15 women. We have generated enough funding in Nangi Village to account for the teacher's wages and helped in the building of an eco tourism lodge. - See more at: http://startsomegood.com/Venture/white_circles_global_trading/Campaigns/Show/continued_support_for_nepali_women_and_education#sthash.UPqD9Doq.dpuf

#30daychallenge day 19: disrespecting your parents

So here's some thoughts more on generational issues than on parents in particular; could mean coworkers, older family friends, aunts and uncles, grandparents ... relationships. Tricky.

I don't think it's news to anybody that close relationships operate a lot better when everyone respects each other. It leaves room to disagree, without things getting ugly.

I think it's important to note that in the case of adult relationships, the respect thing has to go both ways. It's interesting, to come back to your hometown as an adult and have to renegotiate that particular relationship. Once you factor in the generation gap, there are plenty of negotiations to be made; a balance between support and independence, the push and pull of meeting expectations and being free of them, the space to pursue whichever path your life is taking that particular week and the confidence to make decisions of your own.

It has been interesting for me to get into this analysis of Generation Y for one of my assignments; there was certainly the heartening discovery (or I should perhaps call it a reassurance) that it is typical of our generation to lack the financial capital to purchase a house at the earlier age that our parents did; that we pursue further education and career changes constantly throughout our lives; that different world events have moulded our perceptions of ourselves, our peers, our parents, our lives, our family. While our families watch our lives unfold, chances are there's going to be a disconnect between those living this stage of life and those of a different generation who are watching. There's just not a lot of point saying "by the time I was your age I had this and had done this and this", because really, it's just not that relevant anymore. Nor are we, the Generation Y (oldest of us in our early 30s, youngest of us just 13) particularly fond of hearing it. We're not failures for doing things differently.

A feeling of disrespect might often be as simple as miscommunication, but for Gen Y where communication is everything, this probably has a significance to us that it may not have had to our parents and friends when they were at our age. We are social media kids, and so we are used to having a voice. It's less and less the case that children are meant to be seen and not heard. For instance, I use my 'voice' loudly, on a daily basis, and I expect to be listened to. The earlier generations can grumble about how it used to be, or they can realise that time has passed and things are done differently, and marvel at how much people like me who are writing are willing to share with them.


I mentioned in this post that one of my highs of this year was getting to know my parents and be friends with them, and it's certainly true. It's always a bit weird to sort out how everything should work when you still want them to make you feel better when you've had a bad day, but you also don't want them to know all the details of your life (and they probably have a point where some things might become Too Much Information). I like to think I've got it figured out, so far, for now.

To lighten your mood and leave on a sweet note, I also like to use 'kids these days', ironically or otherwise. And to completely embrace my inner Gen Y, here are some more hipster cats. I know you love them, even if you're too cool to say so.

#30daychallenge day 4: my views on religion

firstly i really have to acknowledge that when i personally speak of religion, at this point that goes not much further than christianity. having done some small, back-cover-of-book reading to investigate buddhism in particular, i concede i am not a knowledgable source. i don't actually even know that much about christianity, really. so.

i have a rather loose and liberal view on religion. we weren't really raised any one way; much like the political 'upbringing' i mused upon in an earlier blog, our religious knowledge was almost something we came upon on our own. in fact it was so transparent i'd be interested to know what my brothers have come away with from that shared experience.

we were taught that some people believed different things, that it was ok to be different, that we should find out for ourselves. i realise we were given a fairly broad spectrum and that while this gave us less to be suppressed by, it also gave us less to rebel against.

i knew my paternal grandparents went to church, and when they were older, some man person would come to the house for some reason, and we'd play quietly in another room. we never really talked about this, but i assumed it was some adult thing meant not for me, and happily went back to my book. similarly with scripture at school, i enjoyed thursday mornings for their diversion from regular schoolwork, but once i got past a certain age made no hesitation in asking for permission to read in the library while scripture lessons happened to the others. perhaps that's why i love books so much - they took the place of this jesus guy, and the god guy, and moses, and something about a baby in the reeds? and a sea got parted at some stage. oh, and noah with the animals on the ark. plus, carols at christmas and a whole lot of talking and hymns at easter.

that's about the brunt of it, as far as my childhood self was concerned.

i've made no secret of that fact that i got dumped for jesus at the end of my first serious relationship (i hesitate to say first adult relationship, as that would require actual adults). i can very easily make a punchline of it, but suffice to say the way i was treated and the things that were said to me turned me quite a bit off organised religion and christianity in particular. i understand ultimatums as a way to get your kids to bed, for example 'go and get into your pyjamas or no more tv for you' may be effective, but the thing is, delivering ultimatums about something so important and personal (as in, really-not-your-business) seemed problematic at best, and a plain old shitfight in reality. especially since i'd done my best to understand what i was dealing with, read up on some new testament, all that.

the next guy i dated was an atheist.

honestly though, that didn't work out so well for me either. i tend to think religious beliefs may not be the only factor, and instead focus on others such as 'do you actually make me happy?' or 'exactly how many things about myself have i changed so we can continue to date each other?' or even 'what are your prospects?'.

as time as passed i have met and made friends with people of all shades of religious fervour. the yoga-centric whistler world was a lot about deep breathing, muscles and a touch of something spiritual and sparkly off in the distance. one of my lovely long-distance friends practises a deep love of the earth, of animals and her lovely dog, of crystals and humanity. some of these things i had previously scoffed at, mainly as my mum has this sort of background herself.

i've come full circle, i think. while i suspect that organised religion is not for me, and perhaps a divine power in the shape of a person or thing is a bit of a stretch, i feel that you can be spiritual without being religious. hear me out - speaking as i often did with my aunt Sally about my granny, we touched on her beliefs a little bit. as i noted above, there was this sort of closed-door whispery church behaviour happening, but what made granny believe in and feel closer to her version of god was being outside, under a blue sky, in the garden. if you can believe in the good of things, i think that's a great start. it's hard to do in this world we live in.

we'll leave it at agnostic for me, thanks. as my facebook profile says, i believe in karma. and snow. karma because i think it's important to be nice and do nice things for people. snow because, well, have you sat at the top of a mountain before? that's a kind of magic that is undeniable.

for further information on my kind of religion, see below- 

treasure: my granny, Patricia Taylor

One of my favourite bloggers, Pip from Meet me at Mike's, has suggested a blog-along about grandmothers today. You can read hers and be inspired maybe to write something of your own, as I am today.

I think often about my Granny, who it turns out has been a huge influence on many of us Taylor folk, one way or the other. The only thing I ever occasionally let myself feel sad about in relation to Granny is that I'd just love to sit down with her now, at 27, and have a good old chat about things. Now I understand a little more. Now I'm an adult. Now I've met more of the whole wide world, and consequently realised just how wonderful she was, not just as my Granny (for she was given instant 'wonderful' status ever since I can remember) but as a woman.

Of course, I never knew Granny as a mum, but from what I gather she managed 5 kids and a husband on a NSW sheep farm quite adequately, not to mention the governesses, the jackaroos, and the rest of the surrounding family. As a Granny, she was kind and strong, and somehow managed to make each of her 14 grandkids feel special to her. Until I was 10 or so, she lived just down the hill from us, so close that Mum was able to stand at the top of the hill and watch me toddle down to see me arrive safely in Granny's waiting arms. From there, she took me inside and I was fed shortbreads and hardbiscuits (a family recipe, an oat & golden syrup combination that are infamous), as well as allowed to help out with baking and making butter. I got sat on the edge of the kitchen bench while she went about this business, and was occasionally granted my very own little ball of new butter to put on toast, or eat then and there, delicious and creamy, popped straight into my little mouth.

It sounds a bit odd as a treat for a child, but I must say it was my absolute favourite thing. What I wonder about now is what her and I talked about, for I'm certain I would have chatted away happily with her for hours (genetic trait, the chatting- Granny was the best chatter I know) about all my secrets and thoughts. I imagine I may even have bored her with my chat, having since discovered that once kids figure out how to make themselves understood, they Do. Not. Shut. Up.

Growing past this rosy-cheeked child stage, I know I missed having Granny and Grandfather so close by when they moved into town. Our family moved into the homestead, and all the mystical places that had hidden secrets inside when Granny and Grandfather lived there were opened up and brought to light. Furniture was moved out and empty space left for our family to move on in. The 'good' lounge room stopped being a closed space in the dark, and Grandfather's dressing room stopped smelling of mystery and was instead painted blue, becoming a bedroom for my little brother Stuart.

Their new house in town became the place for Christmases and family get togethers, and while those were always special, it was the one-on-one times with Granny that I remember that house for. I cannot remember ever watching television there, instead we'd drink countless cups of tea and I'd read my book, or tell Granny about highschool, or whatever else I felt like chatting about. I can't remember ever trying out teenage rebellion on her; while I was a well-behaved girl, I had a truly awful temper with which I would constantly tear strips off my parents, but I'm pretty sure I never tried that out on Granny. One wouldn't.

As always with the passing of time and the gaining of maturity, on reflection I feel truly amazed by the legacy and impact Granny had upon me, and I don't doubt, all of the other Taylors I know. I think of her now as my conscience; when I act well, true to myself, when I help others or resist making an easy choice in favour of a better choice, I feel quietly proud of myself in the same way that I imagine Granny might. When I make a mistake, or a knowingly act in a way that I regret later, I shake my head, try not to beat myself up too much and instead think "Next time, I'll do better". That's what Granny has given me. I expect a lot of myself, which I know is a 'Taylor' trait with which we all have been blessed/cursed.

In the end, I only have a few tangible objects which have come from Granny. One is a green glass bead necklace, another is her copy of "Alice in Wonderland" from back when she was a Fraser instead of a Taylor, and the last, a happy discovery of just this month, is that the curtains that hang in my beloved van Queen Maude are made from scraps of sailboat fabric that Mum was given by Granny. So I have a little piece of something of hers to travel about with every single day. That is truly lovely.

Another treasure is a rhyme that has stayed with me for many many years, and I'm sure all the Taylors are reciting it in their heads while reading this. This Mabel Lucie Attwell poem hung on a towel rail in Granny's bathroom from since way before I can remember, and it will always remind me of having baths at her place, having my little body rubbed dry with a towel by Granny in her more limber days on her knees by the bathtub; it will remind me of the countless times I read it when visiting the toilet, moving the hip-friendly toilet seat out of the way. In a way I guess it is Granny, through and through. Tidying up after yourself and thinking of others, meeting your responsibilities head on.

Sending all my love, not only to Granny, but to all of us who love and miss her - Patricia Taylor, you're one heck of a lady to live up to, but all of us, we're doing our best (which I'm sure is all you'd really expect of us anyway).

treasure: tash, mat, iggy and a baby

it's my experience that through life, friends come and go. i learned long ago that it doesn't do to dwell on the friends you've lost contact with. everyone i've had the honour of calling a friend knows, i trust, that they pop into my head at times and i smile and send some love their way. things happen, in life - you move, you grow up, you change your approach to the world, you re-prioritise. i am one that loves making new friends, but am best at maintaining friendships with people i see often.

i was lucky enough to get to know mat and tash around the time of my 21st birthday. i will be 28 in october, which means i have been friends with these two folk for 7 years (that's maths, right mat?). these are friends that i have never lost touch with. they're a rarity. they're awesome, and i'll tell you why.

i have an extremely hard time allowing people to help me out, because i worry about what it means that i need help, yet every time i visit melbourne, these two share and help in every way they can. when i first got back to australia, more than a little lost, they actually organised to get me down to visit melbourne. penniless and sheepish, i accepted their offer- the visit filled me with enough certainty and purpose to march through the next 3 months til life settled down again.

i refer to these two as my 'adult friends' - simply meaning they've made commitments to things that i hope to one day have in my reach too. they have a house in a great spot, and plenty of plans for it. they have a gorgeous iggy, and a lovely sweet new baby who was just born this week.

i don't have much in the way of means, but i'd do anything in my power to help them out if they ever needed me. because they've offered me the same thing. post break-up i had a gorgeous text from tash offering to help me move to melbourne, or at least get me down there for some distraction. holy shit i am a lucky motherfucker to have friends like these.

in my opinion, the ways in which they're awesome: they have a 3 door merc that i'm allowed to borrow when i visit. they always feed me fancy whiskey from tasmania when i visit. they're both bloody hilarious. they are extremely cool parents. tash gives me hints on awesome bands i should listen to. mat made a point of reading my blog last week (tash may have told him to, but that's another point in the awesome column as far as i'm concerned). i just recently figured out that mat is actually quite clever by reading a blog (his) that i found to be in another language (a higher, more intelligent language than the ones i know)- so now i'm intimidated by him. another hugely favourite thing is tash's ability to drop the c-bomb in a reasonably classy way. she has earned my respect.

i don't know exactly how i convinced them i was ok- they met me because i was dating an old friend of theirs. i abandoned him and the whole relationship for canada, and yet, here i am years later proudly claiming them as good and close friends. i must have made some good jokes at the right time.

the only thing that sucks about these two is that i don't live in the same city as them anymore. everything else is good.

mat and tash, this week, with a new one in your lovely family, i just want you to know about how much i love you all and that i can't wait to meet the new one. i'm certain he'll be as gorgeous as the rest of you. you all deserve all the happiness and good things in the world.

love, me.

travel: the things i like about america (or, sunday softball & 99c cheeseburgers)

I started to write a travel entry on my visit to the states last year while I was there. I wasn't doing anything other than trying to figure out how to do long-distance relationships, watching quite a lot of grey's anatomy and hanging out with my family, but I still managed to not write any more about the experience than this:

i've decided the key to really relaxing on a vacation is to take bulk amounts of time at one place. well actually, i'm not on vacation, just unemployed. but my point still stands- bulk. time.

yesterday i went to an evening of good old-fashioned american fun. my cousin moya took me to a softball game so we could cheer on the 'halibats' (geddit?), a team full of her friends in various states of tie-dye and skill level. 

The reason I wanted to write something about this part of my travels was to acknowledge the America that happens outside of the big cities, for as an Australian you sort of tend to think of the place as this giant city made up of New York, Los Angeles and Seattle, or at least I did.

I did write about West Coast Oregon and Portland last year, as well as New Orleans and all the things that happened there, but as I'm contemplating a return to the states in 2015 (if I can swing all the requirements of the working visa), AND seeing as it's a year since I was there last, I have to say that the US of A has been on my mind.

I am lucky enough to have family living in Corvallis, Oregon, who kept welcoming me with open arms each time I swung by during my 3 year stint in Canada. It ended up being home, in a reliable, always-food-in-the-fridge sort of way where I felt loved and welcome and all those things you need sometimes when you're very far away from the homeland. Sally, Bob and Moya all looked after me in various and lovely ways.

strangely enough to admit in a travel blog, the thing I liked about Corvallis most the last time I was there was how much it felt like home - Armidale is a small town with a university and a strange population that grows and shrinks depending on the time of year. there are coffee shops and all the fixings of a smaller population, it was pretty and leafy in the spring, easy to navigate, full of those newer to the area and the older more knowledgable folk who all seem to know each other from a stint at Bombs Away, a bar that I most certainly enjoyed while I was there.

Over the course of 3 years worth of visits, I got to do all the "American" things I'd grown up seeing in the movies. Cap'n Crunch, s'mores, diner-style breakfast, Twinkies (RIP), root beer, bourbon shots (or maybe that was a Moya tradition rather than wider America), beer in the supermarket, Trader Joes, and of course, 99c cheeseburgers. I don't think I've eaten a cheeseburger since that one I had this time last year, and so it will always remain in my memory the most tasty and low-priced of treats. Prices of fast food in the states is so much lower than it is in Australia, but then so is the minimum wage.

I was definitely made aware that I had an accent too- being an Australian in Whistler was barely worth blinking at, but in Corvallis, I sounded funny. It's bizarre to actually hear it- to hear how different you sound to everyone else. I never thought I had an accent.

The things I liked most about America were those Corvallis times. I was part of all the regular activities in my family's lives; I went along to a few lovely summer parties of friends of Moya's, I enjoyed $2 beers at Bombs a few times (more than a few times), I had very tasty amazing dinners with my aunt and uncle and their adult friends, I lay about in the garden reading books, I snuggled up with Moya to consume seasons of Friends at a time. So much lovelieness.

I'll be back next year for a quick hello after my friends get married in Whistler, and then hopefully the year after that, sometime between April and October 2015, I'll have a visa and be able to work and whatnot in a legit fashion. I'm hoping for Portland and maybe even some other parts of that great huge country. That, my friends, is the future for which I live in hope.

secret: everything was beautiful, and nothing hurt

It's nearly the end of April. Our family beach holiday has set us down by the Pacific Ocean, a salty liquid body that laps up upon other shores far from here.

There's been sun and pleasant weather for days on end, an array of foods, coffees and beverages. Sometimes too many of the red wines, but their medicinal quality by way of sleep excuses me from having to justify them. Perhaps it doesn't, actually, but with incredible strength of character I might save that chestnut for another day.

Large expanses of water seem to make me rather pensive. I've been working the contemplative stare into the ocean in a big way this week. I like to think it makes me appear mysterious and beautiful, like I'm a girl in a movie. I've figured things out too, so it's not all for show.

For instance, it's a lie that everything is beautiful, and that nothing hurts. But it's a beautiful lie; a motivation, a goal. Sometimes I wonder if my little brothers have made it there. For my brothers, life is a series of selfies in amazing places, beers, beautiful women and adventures. I don't think I'm them, though. My abs are not anything like their abs.

I've been thinking today that I fancy myself as a romantic. I've been pissed off for months now about how sensibly my last relationship ended. I made a somewhat adult decision and now instead of trudging through an increasingly shitty deal, I get the chance to be free and happily single. It sounds good, and it probably will be, I just have to adjust my idea of myself from someone who believes in love above all else to someone who believes in myself above all else. And that's an idealistic love situation too.

Self motivation comes across as a bit hokey, but I think I'm sitting peering into the Moment of Truth, that precipice of adulthood that not even all adults get to, and I'm just trying to give myself the nudge to jump. Actually, that's a terrible metaphor, but that's all you're going to get.

I think I'm going to shoot for Sensible Romantic, a Romantic of the kind that can draw on an oversensitivity to melancholy to write and create, working in and allowing for some poetic staring into the night time ocean, hoping I get a chance at love that makes everything beautiful with nothing hurting.

The Sensible part is the part where I hold down a full time job while working towards a Masters, rid myself of the headaches and weak ankles, maybe pay a bill on time, be a friendly friend type, and save money for global adventuring.

All this staring at the ocean has set out these parts to myself in a comprehensible fashion, given me a deep breath in and a goal or five. If I breathe out a quiet "everything is beautiful and nothing hurts", then time by the beach has been time well spent.

Or something.

treasure: family holiday

We're on a family beach holiday. We arrived this afternoon, my brother and me, after an airport greeting and a stop for groceries and a drive north along the Pacific Highway that brought us to Seal Rocks.

We've not done this family holiday thing before, and the novelty itself is entertaining. The beach is below us, within walking distance, a pretty bay for swimming and sitting to look at from a deck with a table and chairs provided for putting feet up on, faded outside cushions for lounging on after morning swims.

I will be reading all the books, swimming at least 2 times a day (and maybe at night) and having naps. I will mend myself, the bits that make my brain sore and hold me back from the satisfaction I demand.

All the books.

secret: whimsy

my crazy sunday night: into town at 10pm. one beer which lasts til 11.30, one sneaky smoke outside, making faces and random chitchat with friendly pretty blonde quebecans who work with my housemate nic, leave the bar at 12.20am, cup of earl grey london fog from moguls, where the boys look at me like i'm an alien (or am i just projecting 'i'm an alien'? don't know), one bus ride home and a walk up a hill listening to john butler's "revolution".

subsequent whimsy occurs. or maybe i just enjoy the word subsequent.

i really miss my little brothers. i am aiming to stop missing people that aren't around. to be. or should i say, to Be.

i watched 'eat pray love' yesterday. i always watch or read things and get a head filled with ideas, travel plans, ways to Be ... like for instance, go to india and live in an ashram for a month. or several. or, to go to Bali and meet a hot foreign man with a strong nose (strong is a nice way to say big. i like big noses).

i would quite like to be a little more enlightened. for now i shall just accept my need to stare at the full moon on a cloudy night and wish i could play guitar like john butler.