I like music. I like singing loudly and out of tune (cars and showers being my specialty). I like dancing like a loser. I like overly bright Hawaiian shirts.
Too uncoordinated for the piano or the guitar
Not serious enough for the flute or the violin
Lungs not big enough for the trumpet, trombone, tuba or French horn (also, incapable of doing the buzzing thing required for them to make a sound)
Definitely not cool enough for the drums
And have way too much pride for the triangle and the recorder.
If only there was an instrument that suited me!! Oh wait, there is!!
Drum roll.....
....... THE UKULELE!!
My only problem with it is that for some reason it has become cool to play the ukulele; and I'm not really ready for all that pressure to be cool.
But never fear, I have found a way to de-cool-ify the ukulele!!
I have joined the hospital ukulele band. That's right. There is such a thing! 8 middle aged researchers with their over-zealous, over-ambitious, slightly-mad-scientist-crazy conductor, come together every Friday lunchtime to practice for 90min over hot cups of tea and coffee. They even play in competitions and put on shows with PowerPoint presentations featuring lasers (just like playing in a real rock band! Ha. Ha.)
Downside: they play songs by old bands I don't know, like the Carpenters (who apparently were this crazy brother-sister band who were madly in love with each other)
Upside: not knowing the songs gives me an excellent excuse to be terrible at them! Winning!
I know exactly 4 chords now, which pretty much makes me a ukulele expert, and I have to say it is a damn fine instrument.
Housemates, start looking forward to my endless strumming of the same chords and excellent monotonal singing voice. I know you'll have as much fun with this new adventure of mine as I will!
Ah, life is so happy! Ukulele happy!
Friday 5 April 2013
Tuesday 2 April 2013
Today I Learnt.... Of the World of IPhone Dating Apps
This year I have decided to "actively date" (whatever that means, but, yay for me!) and so considering I don't know people up in Darwin, I have decided to check out the world of IPhone Dating apps in all of their glory.
I have learnt many things through this process. Mostly, that I'm extremely (and borderline unreasonably) picky with my taste in men. Oh and also, I'm a very superficial person when it comes to choosing possible "matches" as these apps like to call them.
Seriously though,
-- Anyone who uses "me" instead of "my" in their 'about me' section ("I love me job") ..... No Deal
-- Anyone with "niceguy" or "shyguy" or "lookingforlove" as their username ..... No deal
-- Anyone who manages to write three paragraphs with no fullstops or commas .... No deal
-- Mullets, missing teeth, sleeve tattoos, multiple piercings ...... All no deal
-- Over 27 or under 21? .... No deal
-- Anyone whose top hobbies are shooting, fishing and BMX riding (99% of Darwin men).... No deal. (Seriously, what is with the need to fish here?)
Now most of those I can possibly justify, but then there are my restrictions which really are just unnecessary:
-- Come off needy or desperate ... No deal
-- Too blokey? Not blokey enough? .... Not deal
-- Too tall? Too short? Overweight? ..... No deal
-- Wearing a backwards cap in all photos ..... No deal
-- Describing themselves as a "true Aussie bloke" ... No deal
-- Even crooked teeth = probs not going to make the cut.
I'm taking a wild guess here in saying that maybe IPhone Dating Apps are not going to be my most successful avenue. I swear I'm not this bad when I meet people in real life! Part of me believes I can be this picky because it's the Internet, and then a part of me realises just how many good guys I'm potentially culling.
It's a good thing I'm having fun reading all these profiles though (there are some weird characters on these apps!) , if nothing else, it's an excellent way to procrastinate!
Tuesday 26 March 2013
Today I learnt..... I like to dance. On Buses.
I know my last few posts have all been about bus rides, and yes, this is yet another event that took place on my morning route to the hospital. It turns out most amazing things that happen to me up here, happen on the bus!
So I got on the bus this morning to find a group of aborginal people, still slightly drunk from the night before, playing their music off their phones attached to speakers. They were having a jolly time, so I sat near them so that I too could enjoy the wide variety of music they were pumping out.
Then one of them began to dance in his seat. Then the others started to dance. And so I'm sitting there smiling and enjoying the show; and the rest of the bus is just politely ignoring them.
Then one of them yells to me:
"Ey, Sister, Why you white people not dance?"
And so I contemplate this, and figure, why not?? And I join in. I whip out all of my best moves; the sprinkler, the shopping trolley, the box, the mr.bean, the body roll. Which they all found both hilarious and entertaining. Some even tried to copy me. I thought about telling them most of my moves come from television ads, but I decided against this and took credit for all of them.
Then the most amazing thing of all happened. An elderly lady down the front of the bus started clapping along to the music. And then someone in the middle seats started dancing too. And suddenly everyone was dancing!!! Well, not everyone, there were a few stiff-suit wearing- business focused people who sat there shaking their heads. Clearly either they were against dancing completely, or 7am was just too early to get up and boogy. These folks had music for everyone, heart felt ballads, bolllywood, showtunes, disco, pop; the lot!
And the bus driver? what was he doing while all of this madness was going on? He was just laughing his head off and tapping his fingers against the steering wheel in time to the music.
Everytime someone got onto the bus everyone cheered them! And everytime someone had to depart everyone made a sad "awww!" sound.
It was fantastic! It was like life said "Bron, you're most likely going to have a boring day of research ahead of you, so let me make your morning so incredible you'll be able to smile the whole day".
And by golly it did!
So I got on the bus this morning to find a group of aborginal people, still slightly drunk from the night before, playing their music off their phones attached to speakers. They were having a jolly time, so I sat near them so that I too could enjoy the wide variety of music they were pumping out.
Then one of them began to dance in his seat. Then the others started to dance. And so I'm sitting there smiling and enjoying the show; and the rest of the bus is just politely ignoring them.
Then one of them yells to me:
"Ey, Sister, Why you white people not dance?"
And so I contemplate this, and figure, why not?? And I join in. I whip out all of my best moves; the sprinkler, the shopping trolley, the box, the mr.bean, the body roll. Which they all found both hilarious and entertaining. Some even tried to copy me. I thought about telling them most of my moves come from television ads, but I decided against this and took credit for all of them.
Then the most amazing thing of all happened. An elderly lady down the front of the bus started clapping along to the music. And then someone in the middle seats started dancing too. And suddenly everyone was dancing!!! Well, not everyone, there were a few stiff-suit wearing- business focused people who sat there shaking their heads. Clearly either they were against dancing completely, or 7am was just too early to get up and boogy. These folks had music for everyone, heart felt ballads, bolllywood, showtunes, disco, pop; the lot!
And the bus driver? what was he doing while all of this madness was going on? He was just laughing his head off and tapping his fingers against the steering wheel in time to the music.
Everytime someone got onto the bus everyone cheered them! And everytime someone had to depart everyone made a sad "awww!" sound.
It was fantastic! It was like life said "Bron, you're most likely going to have a boring day of research ahead of you, so let me make your morning so incredible you'll be able to smile the whole day".
And by golly it did!
Tuesday 19 March 2013
Today I Learnt..... Buses are Dangerous Places
I got on the bus this morning to go to the hospital (because my bike is still missing a pedal) at 6:50am, which is really too early for anyone to be awake let alone already be on a bus! It was pretty much empty so I took a seat near the window and sleepily gazed out at all the crazy people wandering the streets going to work this early.
Just minding my own business, in my own little world when.......
CRASH!!!!!!!!!!
Suddenly my head is hurting and the guy opposite the aisle from me is pissing himself laughing. I, extremely confused and disorientated but now wide awake, flailed around with exaggerated arm movements, sort of like I was drowning. Which only made the guy laugh harder.
What happened you ask?? Good question!! I'll tell you what happened, the entire 1.5m plastic light covering fell off the ceiling and landed on me. Yep, thats right, it was like the sky was falling.
Eventually the laughing guy gets up and picks up the large piece of plastic, of which I was still battling (I personally think I was winning), and together we put it in the aisle.
What did the bus driver do you ask?! Absolutely nothing. Didn't even notice. As the bus pulled up to the hospital the guy and I picked up the plastic light covering and took it to the driver:
Me: "Ahhh, the light fell down?"
Bus Driver: "Oh yeh, that tends to happen, just put it over there"
Fantastic. Guess this is a regular occurence on the Darwin public transport!
On the upside I wrote a very polite email to the NT public transport department and secretly I hope I get free public transport for the rest of the year to cover my "emotional suffering".
P.S - Apart from a cut and slightly bruised eye, I was otherwise uninjured in this event. Although, all sympathetic comments and concerned texts are still welcome after this traumatic event i've had to endure.
Just minding my own business, in my own little world when.......
CRASH!!!!!!!!!!
Suddenly my head is hurting and the guy opposite the aisle from me is pissing himself laughing. I, extremely confused and disorientated but now wide awake, flailed around with exaggerated arm movements, sort of like I was drowning. Which only made the guy laugh harder.
What happened you ask?? Good question!! I'll tell you what happened, the entire 1.5m plastic light covering fell off the ceiling and landed on me. Yep, thats right, it was like the sky was falling.
Eventually the laughing guy gets up and picks up the large piece of plastic, of which I was still battling (I personally think I was winning), and together we put it in the aisle.
What did the bus driver do you ask?! Absolutely nothing. Didn't even notice. As the bus pulled up to the hospital the guy and I picked up the plastic light covering and took it to the driver:
Me: "Ahhh, the light fell down?"
Bus Driver: "Oh yeh, that tends to happen, just put it over there"
Fantastic. Guess this is a regular occurence on the Darwin public transport!
On the upside I wrote a very polite email to the NT public transport department and secretly I hope I get free public transport for the rest of the year to cover my "emotional suffering".
P.S - Apart from a cut and slightly bruised eye, I was otherwise uninjured in this event. Although, all sympathetic comments and concerned texts are still welcome after this traumatic event i've had to endure.
Monday 18 March 2013
Today I Learnt.... Footy Is Better In The NT
Yesterday a friend and I fly to the Nguiu, one of the Tiwi Islands
Now I know nothing about AFL and therefore tend to avoid it at all costs. Well, I don’t know nothing. I know that the whistle gets blown a lot, every time someone catches the ball everyone jumps on them, the players like to punch each other and that if you kick the ball through the middle two posts its 6 points; but that’s about it.
Now I know nothing about AFL and therefore tend to avoid it at all costs. Well, I don’t know nothing. I know that the whistle gets blown a lot, every time someone catches the ball everyone jumps on them, the players like to punch each other and that if you kick the ball through the middle two posts its 6 points; but that’s about it.
But everyone told me that this event was not to be missed, so I paid my $320.00 for a 20min flight and got excited to learn about AFL (finally).
Nguiu is an indigenous-only island and a government dry zone (no alcohol) which is not open to non-residents except for this one day a year. So I was really looking forward to going there.
The footy itself was pretty much the same as in Victoria
It could have been the passion of the Indigenous residents cheering on their team,
or the little white boy who asked the Indigenous elder who was yelling fanatically at the players “are you so crazy because you have no teeth?”,
or the indigenous girl who asked me “if you stay in the sun and all of your spots (freckles) join together, will you have skin like me?”,
or the overzealous lady who had to be escorted off the ground the ground due to foul language (“what do you mean I’m f**ing swearing? You f**ing f**wit!! I’m not f**ing being an f**ing swearer),
or the Indigenous boy who, after asking where I was from and I responded “Melbourne” , then went to on to say “You’re from Melbourne! Do you know Emma? Or Uncle Ricki? Or Aunty susan?” and just kept going until I decided to say “Yes” instead of “No” which seemed to make me his best friend
or the fact that the indigenous players didn’t even notice the stray dogs running on the field and simply played around them
or that you can buy 2L of cold water for $1
or maybe it was simply the fact that I won a free paddlepop icecream
or maybe it was all of the above.
All I know is that it turns out AFL isn’t such a bad sport to watch after all!
Thursday 7 March 2013
Today I Learnt.... That I Am Not A Hero
I take a lot of online quizzes, just for the fun of it. Once I took one that told me that I was "emotionally brave" and another one told me I was "courageous enough to change the world". The problem with these quizzes is that you answer the questions the way you see yourself, and in fact, the reality of who you are is so very different.
I got on the bus this afternoon, paid for my ticket, sat in my usual spot and idly stared out the window, not really taking notice of the people coming on and leaving. Two Indigenous people got onto the bus, I only noticed because of the immediate tension that filled the air, one young woman and an older looking guy.
Were they a couple? Were they father and daughter? Were they family or friends? I could not tell. What I could tell was that the young woman was obvisouly uncomfortable. The guy made her sit against the window and then sat next to her, blocking her escape. The whole bus was uncomfortably watching this encounter, where the man would lean into her and she would lean as close to the window as possible to get away from him. She slapped his hands away, and muttered uncomforatbly to him, and he took no notice. He touched her and whispered in her ear and aggressively pulled her toward him when she was defiant. I was sitting a fair way behind them so I could not see the extent of what was happening, but the feeling in the bus told me enough.
They got off at the same stop as me, the man leading the young woman down the park path with a firm hand. The woman did not cry out, or fight or scream, she just half heartedly tried not to be pulled by him into a place she clearly did not want to enter. And I was left there, alone, standing in the middle of the footpath watching. And then they were gone.
I so badly wanted to be like superman and save her. Do something or say something, just flagging to everyone that this wasn't right. Anything. It was more than just something I wanted to do, it was something I knew I should do, it would have been the right thing to do. The brave thing.
But I didn't. And for a while I pondered why, which was really just a way to make excuses for myself. It wasn't my place to get involved. There was a cultural barrier. I wasn't even sure there was a problem. Someone else would have said something if we were meant to. There was nothing I could have done.
But let's face it; I was scared.
Those quizzes lied. I was not emotionally brave and I certainly was not courageous enough to change the world.
I should have been a hero today. Instead I just blended into the crowd of bystanders whispering "that poor woman", full of regret and realising that on this day reality shattered my quiz filled fantasy of my identity.
I got on the bus this afternoon, paid for my ticket, sat in my usual spot and idly stared out the window, not really taking notice of the people coming on and leaving. Two Indigenous people got onto the bus, I only noticed because of the immediate tension that filled the air, one young woman and an older looking guy.
Were they a couple? Were they father and daughter? Were they family or friends? I could not tell. What I could tell was that the young woman was obvisouly uncomfortable. The guy made her sit against the window and then sat next to her, blocking her escape. The whole bus was uncomfortably watching this encounter, where the man would lean into her and she would lean as close to the window as possible to get away from him. She slapped his hands away, and muttered uncomforatbly to him, and he took no notice. He touched her and whispered in her ear and aggressively pulled her toward him when she was defiant. I was sitting a fair way behind them so I could not see the extent of what was happening, but the feeling in the bus told me enough.
They got off at the same stop as me, the man leading the young woman down the park path with a firm hand. The woman did not cry out, or fight or scream, she just half heartedly tried not to be pulled by him into a place she clearly did not want to enter. And I was left there, alone, standing in the middle of the footpath watching. And then they were gone.
I so badly wanted to be like superman and save her. Do something or say something, just flagging to everyone that this wasn't right. Anything. It was more than just something I wanted to do, it was something I knew I should do, it would have been the right thing to do. The brave thing.
But I didn't. And for a while I pondered why, which was really just a way to make excuses for myself. It wasn't my place to get involved. There was a cultural barrier. I wasn't even sure there was a problem. Someone else would have said something if we were meant to. There was nothing I could have done.
But let's face it; I was scared.
Those quizzes lied. I was not emotionally brave and I certainly was not courageous enough to change the world.
I should have been a hero today. Instead I just blended into the crowd of bystanders whispering "that poor woman", full of regret and realising that on this day reality shattered my quiz filled fantasy of my identity.
Sunday 3 March 2013
Today I Learnt..... The Wildlife Here Will Kill You!
Today I learnt that the wildlife here is 1. Everywhere and 2. Will kill you. In fact, there's a whole museum dedicated to it! There's also an iphone app.
Firstly, you've got your salt water crocodiles which get up to 7m long and are found anywhere from the local swimming pool to your back garden. Everyone here has a "salty" story it seems. Mostly they are of near misses, but some are not misses at all. I asked how you can distinguish them from the harmless fresh water crocs and was told "The freshies are smaller. And don't look like they want to eat you".
Then you have the "sea wasp". This is a wasp that hangs out on the Darwin beaches. If you're stung by it you're apparently dead within 10min. End of story. Guess I won't be going to the beach!
If you decide to risk the crocodiles and go for a swim in the sea, you've also got to avoid the deadly box jelly fish and these tiny octopuses (?octopi) that will, just going with a theme here, also kill you.
Decide you don't want to risk your life on the beach or in the water? Think you're safe on land? Wrong! You now have to deal with the endless species of swooping birds whose sole purpose in life seems to be to knock you off your bike. You can get these funky looking hats to wear here to "scare off the birds" but then you just look ridiculous. Probably less ridiculous than screaming your lungs off and fleeing from your bike (I may have done this).
This is of course just disregarding the numerous posionous spiders which seem to occupy your room, bed, shower and are probably camping out under the pillow i'm sitting on right now. Because, in Darwin, they simply aren't dangerous enough to even make the list of ways the wildlife will end your life.
If you manage to survive surrounded by all of these deadly creatures, it's the tropical diseases that will get you for sure!
You've got: Ross River Fever, Farmer's Fever and of course Dengue Fever. You've even got this new one called "Nightcliff Fever". I live in the suburb next to Nightcliff. Yes, that's right, Darwin discovered it's own unique bacteria that rises up from the soil in the rain and enters cuts in your feet and guess what? It will also kill you. Fantastic.
Guess I'll just stay inside my room and never leave! Oh wait, what's that? A snake chilling on my bed? Why yes it is! Guess I'm not safe anywhere!
Firstly, you've got your salt water crocodiles which get up to 7m long and are found anywhere from the local swimming pool to your back garden. Everyone here has a "salty" story it seems. Mostly they are of near misses, but some are not misses at all. I asked how you can distinguish them from the harmless fresh water crocs and was told "The freshies are smaller. And don't look like they want to eat you".
Then you have the "sea wasp". This is a wasp that hangs out on the Darwin beaches. If you're stung by it you're apparently dead within 10min. End of story. Guess I won't be going to the beach!
If you decide to risk the crocodiles and go for a swim in the sea, you've also got to avoid the deadly box jelly fish and these tiny octopuses (?octopi) that will, just going with a theme here, also kill you.
Decide you don't want to risk your life on the beach or in the water? Think you're safe on land? Wrong! You now have to deal with the endless species of swooping birds whose sole purpose in life seems to be to knock you off your bike. You can get these funky looking hats to wear here to "scare off the birds" but then you just look ridiculous. Probably less ridiculous than screaming your lungs off and fleeing from your bike (I may have done this).
This is of course just disregarding the numerous posionous spiders which seem to occupy your room, bed, shower and are probably camping out under the pillow i'm sitting on right now. Because, in Darwin, they simply aren't dangerous enough to even make the list of ways the wildlife will end your life.
If you manage to survive surrounded by all of these deadly creatures, it's the tropical diseases that will get you for sure!
You've got: Ross River Fever, Farmer's Fever and of course Dengue Fever. You've even got this new one called "Nightcliff Fever". I live in the suburb next to Nightcliff. Yes, that's right, Darwin discovered it's own unique bacteria that rises up from the soil in the rain and enters cuts in your feet and guess what? It will also kill you. Fantastic.
Guess I'll just stay inside my room and never leave! Oh wait, what's that? A snake chilling on my bed? Why yes it is! Guess I'm not safe anywhere!
Tuesday 26 February 2013
Today I learnt..... About manly things
I decided that today I would catch the bus to the shopping centre and pick up a bike, which turned out to be harder than expected! I learnt many manly-things; and a few womanly-things too!
I caught the bus and had a very manly conversation with the guy next to me about AFL. I actually know nothing about AFL so it was less of a conversation and more of a nod-and-smile-and-occasionally-agree kind of encounter.
Then I went to Kmart and Big W and had many manly conversations about bikes, tyre tread, tyre thickness, optimal materials and braking systems. Then I did a womanly thing, and picked the bike based almost solely on colour.
I also had to ponder many manly questions such as "are adjustable wrenches and adjustable spanners the same thing?" And "what exactly is an Allen Key? How do you spell Allen Key? And where would I find one in this store". Then I got lost and in a manly fashion, didn't ask for directions.
I also had a womanly learning experience while I nodded and smiled politely at the sales lady as she tried to explain to me the importance of the "thread count" in the sheets I was going to buy. I still don't quite understand about it, if anyone knows, feel free to enlighten me!
Then I got home (via taxi because a DIY-bike-in-box is much too big for a bus) and had to draw upon all my new man knowledge for the greatest manly task of the day, building the bike. I read the "warning, in the interests of safety this bike must be assembled by an experienced cycle mechanic" and ignored it. I also ignored, in typical man fashion, the instruction manual.
I did read the pamphlets though, which turned out to have all kinds of important information such as "when riding, a red light means you must stop" and "assembly mechanic available for $16.00" (which was crossed out with a red marker and had "recently quit" written over it. There was also a note that said " IMPORTANT the left pedal goes on the left side and the right pedal goes on the right side!" Which of course is true, but considering the left pedal was already attached to the bike I don't really see how you could put the right pedal anywhere else.
So I tossed them all aside, picked up my Allen Key and Adjustable Wrench (that I decided could indeed be an adjustable spanner) and set to work; and I'm proud to say that 4 hours later I had built a bike. This is made more impressive by the fact that I have owned my car for 2 years now and still have not figured out how to open the bonnet.
I got to take it for a ride then, and quickly I realised that I may have forgotten to tighten a few of the bolts (the handle bars may have fallen off), but never fear because today I was a man and carried my tools in my backpack. So I quickly tightened things up and went for a 2hr ride (must have been going very slowly because the sign said it would only take 45min) to celebrate!
What a good learning day!!
Side Note: yes, I know this post is stereotypical and largely inaccurate. Yes, I do believe in gender equality. No, I don't believe only men know about bikes, tools and building stuff. And No, I don't believe only females know about thread counts (I actually believe no one does).
I caught the bus and had a very manly conversation with the guy next to me about AFL. I actually know nothing about AFL so it was less of a conversation and more of a nod-and-smile-and-occasionally-agree kind of encounter.
Then I went to Kmart and Big W and had many manly conversations about bikes, tyre tread, tyre thickness, optimal materials and braking systems. Then I did a womanly thing, and picked the bike based almost solely on colour.
I also had to ponder many manly questions such as "are adjustable wrenches and adjustable spanners the same thing?" And "what exactly is an Allen Key? How do you spell Allen Key? And where would I find one in this store". Then I got lost and in a manly fashion, didn't ask for directions.
I also had a womanly learning experience while I nodded and smiled politely at the sales lady as she tried to explain to me the importance of the "thread count" in the sheets I was going to buy. I still don't quite understand about it, if anyone knows, feel free to enlighten me!
Then I got home (via taxi because a DIY-bike-in-box is much too big for a bus) and had to draw upon all my new man knowledge for the greatest manly task of the day, building the bike. I read the "warning, in the interests of safety this bike must be assembled by an experienced cycle mechanic" and ignored it. I also ignored, in typical man fashion, the instruction manual.
I did read the pamphlets though, which turned out to have all kinds of important information such as "when riding, a red light means you must stop" and "assembly mechanic available for $16.00" (which was crossed out with a red marker and had "recently quit" written over it. There was also a note that said " IMPORTANT the left pedal goes on the left side and the right pedal goes on the right side!" Which of course is true, but considering the left pedal was already attached to the bike I don't really see how you could put the right pedal anywhere else.
So I tossed them all aside, picked up my Allen Key and Adjustable Wrench (that I decided could indeed be an adjustable spanner) and set to work; and I'm proud to say that 4 hours later I had built a bike. This is made more impressive by the fact that I have owned my car for 2 years now and still have not figured out how to open the bonnet.
I got to take it for a ride then, and quickly I realised that I may have forgotten to tighten a few of the bolts (the handle bars may have fallen off), but never fear because today I was a man and carried my tools in my backpack. So I quickly tightened things up and went for a 2hr ride (must have been going very slowly because the sign said it would only take 45min) to celebrate!
What a good learning day!!
Side Note: yes, I know this post is stereotypical and largely inaccurate. Yes, I do believe in gender equality. No, I don't believe only men know about bikes, tools and building stuff. And No, I don't believe only females know about thread counts (I actually believe no one does).
Monday 25 February 2013
Today I Learnt..... About Accommodation Darwin Style
See I'm living in a commune, which is apparently all the rage here in Darwin. It's considered trendy and "hip", but really, it's where 10+ people live together on a property and take the whole "sharehouse" thing to a new level! For me, this "property" is a rainforest. Not just a little on either, an acre of one. Don't worry, they told me they very rarely find crocodiles near the house, it's just the snakes that I have to watch out for. That was comforting.
This is the view from my room:
I live in a room, adjoined to two others, in a sort of bungalow which looks sort of like those cabins you used to stay in during school camps. Or even just a shed. It probably more looks like a shed:
With no air conditioning, no proper bed, no curtains, no actual windows, no kitchen, no shower and no toilet. Who needs these things anyway!!
See you walk (read: get disorientated and lost) down a rainforest path to an "outside kitchen":
And a little further to the outside "bathroom":
Yes, that's right, there are no curtains, four walls or a real door. Goodbye self consciousness!!
No only that but it also comes with a few extra friends....... frogs in the shower!!!
(I did tell one of the girls about the frogs and she was like "Only 2? How sad! I wonder what happened to the rest of them." Guess its the norm around here)
It does have a pool though:
People come and go every few weeks, and at the moment there are 8 people camping out in sleeping bags on the main house verandah. It certainly isn't boring!! Pretty sure when I come back to Melbourne I will be a converted hippy! Also, my landlord is her own special kind of character. And even that is the understatement of the year. But that is a blog post for another day.
I've decided to embrace this living style; I feel that it will be character building. Or soul destroying. It could go either way. I'm hoping for the former! Plus, I came to Darwin for a change in lifestyle, and boy am I getting it already!!!
This is the view from my room:
I live in a room, adjoined to two others, in a sort of bungalow which looks sort of like those cabins you used to stay in during school camps. Or even just a shed. It probably more looks like a shed:
With no air conditioning, no proper bed, no curtains, no actual windows, no kitchen, no shower and no toilet. Who needs these things anyway!!
See you walk (read: get disorientated and lost) down a rainforest path to an "outside kitchen":
And a little further to the outside "bathroom":
Yes, that's right, there are no curtains, four walls or a real door. Goodbye self consciousness!!
No only that but it also comes with a few extra friends....... frogs in the shower!!!
(I did tell one of the girls about the frogs and she was like "Only 2? How sad! I wonder what happened to the rest of them." Guess its the norm around here)
It does have a pool though:
People come and go every few weeks, and at the moment there are 8 people camping out in sleeping bags on the main house verandah. It certainly isn't boring!! Pretty sure when I come back to Melbourne I will be a converted hippy! Also, my landlord is her own special kind of character. And even that is the understatement of the year. But that is a blog post for another day.
I've decided to embrace this living style; I feel that it will be character building. Or soul destroying. It could go either way. I'm hoping for the former! Plus, I came to Darwin for a change in lifestyle, and boy am I getting it already!!!
Sunday 24 February 2013
Today I Learnt..... Karma is Real
A few days ago I was standing in line at Max Brennar (A chocolate bar) waiting to order one of their amazing milkshakes. I noticed an elderly lady in front of me pulling out all her coins and dumping them on the counter, she too was ordering a milkshake.
The cashier counted the coins and said "I'm so sorry, you're 50c short" and so I found 50c in my purse and put it on the counter. Now this elderly lady was so appreciative, it was like she never thought anyone would part with 50c. She was so so happy and said "You, young lady, have made my morning". And I smiled, even though I was just giving 50c.
Today, I desperately needed to buy a stamp to post a letter, but there was one slight (actually, large) problem; today is Sunday. Sunday means that all the post offices around me are shut, as well as the newsagents, as well as every store that might sell stamps. But I drove to them all anyway, just in case they were open on this particular Sunday. And when they were all shut I started driving around the supermarkets to see if, by any chance, they sold stamps.
After a trying a million stores this happened:
The cashier (like all the others) said "I'm so sorry, we don't sell stamps" and the lady behind me said "I have a few stamps in my purse" and put one on the counter. Now it was my turn to be so appreciative, I never thought anyone would part with their stamp. I was so so happy and said "Thank You, you have made my morning". And she smiled, even though she was just giving me a stamp.
Karma really is real!!!
The cashier counted the coins and said "I'm so sorry, you're 50c short" and so I found 50c in my purse and put it on the counter. Now this elderly lady was so appreciative, it was like she never thought anyone would part with 50c. She was so so happy and said "You, young lady, have made my morning". And I smiled, even though I was just giving 50c.
Today, I desperately needed to buy a stamp to post a letter, but there was one slight (actually, large) problem; today is Sunday. Sunday means that all the post offices around me are shut, as well as the newsagents, as well as every store that might sell stamps. But I drove to them all anyway, just in case they were open on this particular Sunday. And when they were all shut I started driving around the supermarkets to see if, by any chance, they sold stamps.
After a trying a million stores this happened:
The cashier (like all the others) said "I'm so sorry, we don't sell stamps" and the lady behind me said "I have a few stamps in my purse" and put one on the counter. Now it was my turn to be so appreciative, I never thought anyone would part with their stamp. I was so so happy and said "Thank You, you have made my morning". And she smiled, even though she was just giving me a stamp.
Karma really is real!!!
Saturday 23 February 2013
Today I Learnt.... About A Craze I Could Actually Do
Today I was taken out to lunch by my friend's parents to an amazing buffet place in Crown, and on the car ride there I was introduced to this new craze called the "Harlem Shake". Basically, if you don't already know what this is, it's the latest craze based on a song where one person does a dance for the first part while everyone is ignoring it and then it cuts to everyone doing it.
Here's an example of one (which may be the original?)
Here's an example of one (which may be the original?)
Now I love this craze, I really do, for so many reasons. Firstly, its the first one I could potentially involve myself in. I mean, I couldn't get into "shuffling" because let's face it, you have to have coordination for that one. I couldn't get into planking because that one required balance, and I couldn't get into DubStep because I still don't know what it is or understand it in any way. But I can get into the Harlem Shake, because if there is one thing I'm good at, it's dancing like an idiot.
In fact, people of all ages can get into it:
The second reason I love it, is that you never know who is going to turn up in the whole group scene, and what they'll be doing, so you're surprised every time:
Thirdly, it's a world wide phenomenon, in fact clubs, groups and even the army are onto it:
And lastly, I love it because it makes me laugh a ridiculous amount. And watching the endless YouTube videos is yet another excellent procrastination tool.
On a side note, The Conservatory at Crown is an amazing place to go for lunch. The food is incredible and they have not 1, not 2, not 3, but 4 different types of chocolate fountains. I even maintained the appropriate social etiquette (except for accidently hoarding cutlery from my many courses) that was required of me.... until I walked out with 7 of the giant lollipops I stole for later. So close, but yet so far.
Friday 22 February 2013
Today I Learnt..... Kids' Parents Hold Grudges
So I have these awesome kids I get to babysit; two adorable 6 year old twin boys and a fiesty 3 year old girl. Last week Friday I picked them up from school for the very first time, and while it was awesome, that day I learnt how to immediately piss off a parent. Once I had finally found my way through their school to their assembly (from where I had to pick them up) I had to start searching through the 200 odd students to find them.
Which I did. Actually they found me. They bounded up to me with huge smiles, introduced me to their friend and told me he was coming with us for a sleep over. Now their mother had told me that there was a friend coming for a sleep over, so I wasn't really surprised. So all of us headed out into the playground ready for the walk home, when I saw the boys' prep teacher. I thought I may just check that I didn't have to sign them out or something like you have to do at kinder.
So I approached the prep teacher, explained who I was (she was lovely by the way, prep teachers are real saints) and who I was taking home. I explained the whole kid sleeping over thing, really just making sure that it was okay for me to take this kid home, and she was like "his mother is actually just there, we should check with her". Meanwhile all the kids are like "Bron, it's fine, we've already checked with his mum!" and "Bron, let's go, we can just ring his mum if we have to check again".
I went with the prep teacher to the boy's mum and the prep teacher goes "Is it okay that Bron takes your kid home, she's the boys' babysitter, and I understand he's going for a sleepover".
And then the mother cracks it.
She turns to her boy and goes "What sleepover? Your dad is waiting for you in the pick up line! You were meant to be at swimming 10min ago" and the boy runs off to his dad. She turns to me and goes "You can't just take children you know!" and then she turns to the prep teacher and goes "I can't believe you would let my kid go home with a stranger". And then she stalked off.
Yes, that's right, I pretty much just stole a child. It turns out the friend coming for a sleepover was a different kid and was being dropped off after dinner. So I felt a bit guilty about that, not as much as I should have considering I almost committed a crime
Anyway,
Today I had an awesome day with the 3 year old girl, fielding all sorts of important questions, such as:
(While she's hungrily eating her lunch) "Bron, why do we have to wee? It's so annoying, I just want to eat my sushi" and then runs off to the toilet.
And "Bron, our pool is blue and the sky is blue. If I can float in the pool, why can't I float in the sky?"
Both excellent questions considering they came from a kid that spent a large amount of time today completely covered in a towel pretending to be an egg.
We went and picked the boys up, just like last week, and it all went smoothly this time. We played on the playground for a while and while they were playing I saw the mother a few metres away from me. She looked at me. And I smiled. And she death-stared me.
Turns out parents don't forgive and forget when you try and steal their child.
Lesson learnt.
Which I did. Actually they found me. They bounded up to me with huge smiles, introduced me to their friend and told me he was coming with us for a sleep over. Now their mother had told me that there was a friend coming for a sleep over, so I wasn't really surprised. So all of us headed out into the playground ready for the walk home, when I saw the boys' prep teacher. I thought I may just check that I didn't have to sign them out or something like you have to do at kinder.
So I approached the prep teacher, explained who I was (she was lovely by the way, prep teachers are real saints) and who I was taking home. I explained the whole kid sleeping over thing, really just making sure that it was okay for me to take this kid home, and she was like "his mother is actually just there, we should check with her". Meanwhile all the kids are like "Bron, it's fine, we've already checked with his mum!" and "Bron, let's go, we can just ring his mum if we have to check again".
I went with the prep teacher to the boy's mum and the prep teacher goes "Is it okay that Bron takes your kid home, she's the boys' babysitter, and I understand he's going for a sleepover".
And then the mother cracks it.
She turns to her boy and goes "What sleepover? Your dad is waiting for you in the pick up line! You were meant to be at swimming 10min ago" and the boy runs off to his dad. She turns to me and goes "You can't just take children you know!" and then she turns to the prep teacher and goes "I can't believe you would let my kid go home with a stranger". And then she stalked off.
Yes, that's right, I pretty much just stole a child. It turns out the friend coming for a sleepover was a different kid and was being dropped off after dinner. So I felt a bit guilty about that, not as much as I should have considering I almost committed a crime
Anyway,
Today I had an awesome day with the 3 year old girl, fielding all sorts of important questions, such as:
(While she's hungrily eating her lunch) "Bron, why do we have to wee? It's so annoying, I just want to eat my sushi" and then runs off to the toilet.
And "Bron, our pool is blue and the sky is blue. If I can float in the pool, why can't I float in the sky?"
Both excellent questions considering they came from a kid that spent a large amount of time today completely covered in a towel pretending to be an egg.
We went and picked the boys up, just like last week, and it all went smoothly this time. We played on the playground for a while and while they were playing I saw the mother a few metres away from me. She looked at me. And I smiled. And she death-stared me.
Turns out parents don't forgive and forget when you try and steal their child.
Lesson learnt.
Thursday 21 February 2013
Today I Learnt..... I Have A Problem
I have a problem. Well more of an addiction. Actually no, it's an obsession.
Hi, My name is Bron and I obsessively follow TV Shows I don't even like.
Recently I have fallen prey to My Kitchen Rules, one of the many reality TV shows in which pairs of people cook off against each other and win the right to open their own resturant, some money and of course a reputation and publicity.
Do I like cooking? No
Do I like the contestants? No
Do I like the judges? No
Do I like reality shows? No.
Actually the last one's a lie, I freaking love reality TV. I have no idea why, when I figure it out i'll blog about it.
And yet, when my friend and I arranged to meet up after dinner before I move away, my thought process went something like this:
"Oh no, I'm going to miss MKR. I have to know what happens to these new contestants. I guess I can always download it. No, that's not the same at all. Maybe I'll cancel on my friend. No I shouldn't do that, what would I say. Yes I'll cancel. No I won't. Yes I will. No I won't. What am I doing, I don't even like this show!! But maybe...."
I would love to say that MKR was the only one. But blogs are about the truth, and that would be a lie. There are plenty of TV shows I obsessively follow and love:
Scrubs- yes, even season 9 where they made it about medschool. It was axed. But it was quality
Friends- I balled my eyes out watching the finale the first time I watched it. And the second. Hell, every time I watch it
Dexter- Because he made serial killing okay. Just kidding. But really about liking the show
Big Bang Theory- It teaches me about Star Wars and Star Trek and pretty much every series I should have watched but never have.
And more recently, Elementary - even though it has Lucy Lu in it. And I thought Watson was a guy?
I'm not talking about these ones. I'm talking about: The Block, The Biggest Loser, The X Factor, Australian Idol, American Idol, Australia's got talent, The Voice, Farmer want a Wife, So you think you can dance. The list is endless.
I shudder to think about the possibility I made life choices around these shows.
I'm sure its not healthy. There should be a suport group. I can't be the only one right?!
Hi, My name is Bron and I obsessively follow TV Shows I don't even like.
Recently I have fallen prey to My Kitchen Rules, one of the many reality TV shows in which pairs of people cook off against each other and win the right to open their own resturant, some money and of course a reputation and publicity.
Do I like cooking? No
Do I like the contestants? No
Do I like the judges? No
Do I like reality shows? No.
Actually the last one's a lie, I freaking love reality TV. I have no idea why, when I figure it out i'll blog about it.
And yet, when my friend and I arranged to meet up after dinner before I move away, my thought process went something like this:
"Oh no, I'm going to miss MKR. I have to know what happens to these new contestants. I guess I can always download it. No, that's not the same at all. Maybe I'll cancel on my friend. No I shouldn't do that, what would I say. Yes I'll cancel. No I won't. Yes I will. No I won't. What am I doing, I don't even like this show!! But maybe...."
I would love to say that MKR was the only one. But blogs are about the truth, and that would be a lie. There are plenty of TV shows I obsessively follow and love:
Scrubs- yes, even season 9 where they made it about medschool. It was axed. But it was quality
Friends- I balled my eyes out watching the finale the first time I watched it. And the second. Hell, every time I watch it
Dexter- Because he made serial killing okay. Just kidding. But really about liking the show
Big Bang Theory- It teaches me about Star Wars and Star Trek and pretty much every series I should have watched but never have.
And more recently, Elementary - even though it has Lucy Lu in it. And I thought Watson was a guy?
I'm not talking about these ones. I'm talking about: The Block, The Biggest Loser, The X Factor, Australian Idol, American Idol, Australia's got talent, The Voice, Farmer want a Wife, So you think you can dance. The list is endless.
I shudder to think about the possibility I made life choices around these shows.
I'm sure its not healthy. There should be a suport group. I can't be the only one right?!
Wednesday 20 February 2013
Today I Learnt .... That Orientation is Never Good
Orientation days, especially compulsory ones, are exactly as useful as the "general feedback sessions" we get after an exam where they don't actually go through the exam. Not only did I not learn anything for the majority of the day, I am also now terrified about my year ahead.
Actually I shouldn't say I didn't learn anything, that would be a lie, I actually learnt a lot.
From the head of the management committee I learnt that the university would prefer it if we didn't get arrested.
From the OH&S dude I learnt that nearly every activity is a hazard (seriously, one of my friends had to watch a video on how to walk down the stairs) including typing on a laptop in bed and not sitting up straight when using a microscope.
From our faculty advisor I learnt that her door is always open, unless we have a question, in which case we must first refer to our FAQ section of our handbook.
From the ethics lady I simply learnt that I would hate to be on an ethics committee, oh and also that its my supervisor's job to keep me ethical and hand in forms (I liked that learning point).
From the psychologist I learnt that research is going to steal my soul.
And from past students I learnt that I will have the most stressful year of my life unless I'm proactive and start tasks 3 months before they're due. Judging by my procrastination skills I'm pretty sure I'm in for a stressful year. They did say that when they finished they realised that "it was so much fun" and a "great learning oppurtunity" but I have a feeling they were told to say that.
And that was just the morning session.
Then we had lunch.
And then 4 hours of a library session teaching me how to "write an answerable question" and then "search this question". Not quite sure what I learnt there considering we've done that session every year. I did then learn about EndNote though! If you don't know what EndNote is, download it, it's the most amazing referencing thing I have ever seen. Its actually genius.
Day 1 out of 2 down. Bring on Day 2! I wonder what I'll learn tomorrow?!
Actually I shouldn't say I didn't learn anything, that would be a lie, I actually learnt a lot.
From the head of the management committee I learnt that the university would prefer it if we didn't get arrested.
From the OH&S dude I learnt that nearly every activity is a hazard (seriously, one of my friends had to watch a video on how to walk down the stairs) including typing on a laptop in bed and not sitting up straight when using a microscope.
From our faculty advisor I learnt that her door is always open, unless we have a question, in which case we must first refer to our FAQ section of our handbook.
From the ethics lady I simply learnt that I would hate to be on an ethics committee, oh and also that its my supervisor's job to keep me ethical and hand in forms (I liked that learning point).
From the psychologist I learnt that research is going to steal my soul.
And from past students I learnt that I will have the most stressful year of my life unless I'm proactive and start tasks 3 months before they're due. Judging by my procrastination skills I'm pretty sure I'm in for a stressful year. They did say that when they finished they realised that "it was so much fun" and a "great learning oppurtunity" but I have a feeling they were told to say that.
And that was just the morning session.
Then we had lunch.
And then 4 hours of a library session teaching me how to "write an answerable question" and then "search this question". Not quite sure what I learnt there considering we've done that session every year. I did then learn about EndNote though! If you don't know what EndNote is, download it, it's the most amazing referencing thing I have ever seen. Its actually genius.
Day 1 out of 2 down. Bring on Day 2! I wonder what I'll learn tomorrow?!
Tuesday 19 February 2013
Today I Learnt..... How To Have a Happy Day
Today I learnt the 20 easy steps to having a happy day:
1. Wake up without an alarm; realise its 10:30am
2. Have cake for breakfast
3. Plan the day in your head with all your "must be done" items
4. Have a cup of tea
5. Check facebook
6. Remember that you have a lot of things that need to be done
7. Have a cup of tea while you ponder this
8. Download a chickflick (or 3) to watch "later"
9. Watch the first one staraight away
10. Make some popcorn
11. Start the second movie
12. Have a cup of tea
13. Finish the second movie
14. Change into running clothes to feel sporty
15. Watch the third movie
16. Do one of the items on your "to do" list and feel extremely productive
17. Reward yourself with a cup of tea
18. Go for a casual stroll to justify the change of clothes
19. Have dinner
20. Grab a book and head to bed for a long night of reading
Too eay, pity I actually have to go to uni tomorrow and learn how to analyse statistics!
1. Wake up without an alarm; realise its 10:30am
2. Have cake for breakfast
3. Plan the day in your head with all your "must be done" items
4. Have a cup of tea
5. Check facebook
6. Remember that you have a lot of things that need to be done
7. Have a cup of tea while you ponder this
8. Download a chickflick (or 3) to watch "later"
9. Watch the first one staraight away
10. Make some popcorn
11. Start the second movie
12. Have a cup of tea
13. Finish the second movie
14. Change into running clothes to feel sporty
15. Watch the third movie
16. Do one of the items on your "to do" list and feel extremely productive
17. Reward yourself with a cup of tea
18. Go for a casual stroll to justify the change of clothes
19. Have dinner
20. Grab a book and head to bed for a long night of reading
Too eay, pity I actually have to go to uni tomorrow and learn how to analyse statistics!
Monday 18 February 2013
Today I Learnt.... Fitting My Life Into 23kg Is Not Easy
It's only 7 days until I move, and I now I face the dilemna of packing. I have exactly 23kg of baggage allowance (which has to be all in one bag), plus an extra 20kg for textbooks.
I wasn't really worried about packing, I didn't really think I owned a lot of stuff and when I moved up to Traf this year I managed to do so in one car load. So I started this morning optimistically and decided that the best way to pack was to take everything out of my wardrobe, and everything out of my room, and dump it on the lounge room floor (my mum was thrilled at this idea). That way I could just make two piles: "to Darwin" and "Not to Darwin"
Unfortunately, two things became obviously apparent:
1. I do, in fact, own a lot of clothes
2. Clothes, despite being individually very light, accumulatively are extrememly heavy.
But even these two things weren't my biggest problem. My biggest problem was that the stuff I wanted to take (every soccer shirt I own and my bouncy ball collection) were not necessary, and the stuff I didn't want to take (shoes, hospital clothes and textbooks) unfortunately were very necessary.
So I was stuck.
And thats where I am now, writing this blog post from the only lounge room chair not covered with my stuff, surveying everything I own. Not even my mum's threats of "no dinner unless this floor is clean by the time I get home" can move me. I think I'll have to compromise; take half stuff I want and half stuff I need (even though I don't want to. If I was three I would totally throw a tantrum and yell "its not fair" multiple times. Apparently I can't do that because I'm an adult now).
Oh, and I need to find a way to cleverly smuggle my guitar onto the plane. I'm hoping I just happen to stumble across a person on the same flight as me with no checked in luggage and who would be happy for me to use theirs for it. Unlikely I know, but still possible!
The silly thing is that if my baggage allowance was 5kg I would have no problem at all, because really I don't need all that much (I mean, I wear the same clothes over and over anyway), it's the choice that's messing me over.
I wasn't really worried about packing, I didn't really think I owned a lot of stuff and when I moved up to Traf this year I managed to do so in one car load. So I started this morning optimistically and decided that the best way to pack was to take everything out of my wardrobe, and everything out of my room, and dump it on the lounge room floor (my mum was thrilled at this idea). That way I could just make two piles: "to Darwin" and "Not to Darwin"
Unfortunately, two things became obviously apparent:
1. I do, in fact, own a lot of clothes
2. Clothes, despite being individually very light, accumulatively are extrememly heavy.
But even these two things weren't my biggest problem. My biggest problem was that the stuff I wanted to take (every soccer shirt I own and my bouncy ball collection) were not necessary, and the stuff I didn't want to take (shoes, hospital clothes and textbooks) unfortunately were very necessary.
So I was stuck.
And thats where I am now, writing this blog post from the only lounge room chair not covered with my stuff, surveying everything I own. Not even my mum's threats of "no dinner unless this floor is clean by the time I get home" can move me. I think I'll have to compromise; take half stuff I want and half stuff I need (even though I don't want to. If I was three I would totally throw a tantrum and yell "its not fair" multiple times. Apparently I can't do that because I'm an adult now).
Oh, and I need to find a way to cleverly smuggle my guitar onto the plane. I'm hoping I just happen to stumble across a person on the same flight as me with no checked in luggage and who would be happy for me to use theirs for it. Unlikely I know, but still possible!
The silly thing is that if my baggage allowance was 5kg I would have no problem at all, because really I don't need all that much (I mean, I wear the same clothes over and over anyway), it's the choice that's messing me over.
Thursday 14 February 2013
Today I Learnt.... Why Valentines Day Is Awesome
Today is Valentines Day. This is awesome.
Because of all the flowers?
The endless facebook status' about love?
The excuse to eat as much chocolate as you like?
The random guy in the shopping centre today who gave me a hug?
The corny cards with teddy bears and puns about flowers?
Photos of couples sharing their life together?
Hell NO!
Valentines day is awesome because its the one day in the year when all radio stations set aside the top 100 they usually play, and turn into "love song dedications". Which in my world means, excellent car sing-along time. All day.
I'm known to occasionally (or not so occasionally) belt out a passion-filled rap or kesha number and dance wildly while still keeping my car on the road.
But my true talent lies within the heart-felt, gut-wrenching ballad that can be sung (read, wailed) at the top of my lungs to my steering wheel.
Today is the day I get to be a star!
Because of all the flowers?
The endless facebook status' about love?
The excuse to eat as much chocolate as you like?
The random guy in the shopping centre today who gave me a hug?
The corny cards with teddy bears and puns about flowers?
Photos of couples sharing their life together?
Hell NO!
Valentines day is awesome because its the one day in the year when all radio stations set aside the top 100 they usually play, and turn into "love song dedications". Which in my world means, excellent car sing-along time. All day.
I'm known to occasionally (or not so occasionally) belt out a passion-filled rap or kesha number and dance wildly while still keeping my car on the road.
But my true talent lies within the heart-felt, gut-wrenching ballad that can be sung (read, wailed) at the top of my lungs to my steering wheel.
Today is the day I get to be a star!
Wednesday 13 February 2013
Today I Learnt.... Gyms Are For Everyone
This blog was meant to be lighthearted. A casual way of informing others of my day-to-day life and the little things I learn; small and comic. Today, though, I learnt something important, and so this post has a slightly more serious message.
I met up with the superviser of my research project today for lunch. I arrived early, which by the way never happens, and so I sat down outside the cafe to wait for her. While I was waiting I noticed a group of people standing around chatting.
I noticed them for three reasons:
1. They were all wearing the same thing
2. They all had clipboards with pens and paper
and
3. They all had extremely amazing bodies ... except for one of them.
As it turns out they were from a well known gym chain here in Melbourne, trying to promote the gym and sign up people for membership. They all split up and approached people on the street and talked to them. Usually, I'm sure, all eyes would have been on the majority of the group who were so insanely good looking, like elite-athlete-bodies-with-supermodel-faces good looking, it was crazy. Today not so much. My eyes were not on them at all, my eyes were on this one girl who looked nothing like the rest of them.
Why? Because you couldn't help but look at her. She exuded not just happiness but confidence and grace and strength, and well, pretty much every characteristic every woman wants to have. I could actually feel myself smiling when I looked at her. If there was one person that would make me want to sign up to that gym, it would have been her; even though she wasn't particularly fit looking and she was no where close to having that "ideal" body gyms usually promote.
Watching her, luckily along with other people otherwise I could have been considered borderline creepy, I heard her enthusiasm for the gym, exercise in general and living the healthy lifestyle. She mentioned nothing about losing weight and trying to look like the others.
Now, she may just have been very good at her job and actually hate all things exercise related, but I don't care. I would like to congratulate this gym, and all other gyms, who promote people of all kinds; who put all people on their posters, on TV, and in the streets. Fat, thin, tall, short, wide, narrow, male, female, muscled, flabby. Whatever. Firstly, it's a very smart advertising move, because it says they welcome all people and that all people enjoy being there. Secondly, and more importantly, it is sending such an important message; exercise is for everyone.
The gym, and exercise in general, is definitely not about looking a particular way. Its not even about looking good really. It's about feeling good. Feeling stronger, feeling fitter, feeling healthier, feeling thinner, feeling more confident.
Now, this isn't a novel brand spanking new idea. People have told me this for ages! I just never truly believed it until I saw this girl. I have never been, nor will I ever be, a daintly built girl. I could exercise every hour of every day and still not have that small, size 8, body. Knowing this, however, never stopped me from turning up to gym classes, seeing these smaller girls and thinking that if I kept working hard and exercising a tonne, I could look like them.
But I can't. And that girl can't. And most people out there can't. And thats okay.
Because exercising is fun, gym is fun, the people who do it are fun; and it makes me happy. It took me a long time to realise this, but in the end, that's all I need from it.
I met up with the superviser of my research project today for lunch. I arrived early, which by the way never happens, and so I sat down outside the cafe to wait for her. While I was waiting I noticed a group of people standing around chatting.
I noticed them for three reasons:
1. They were all wearing the same thing
2. They all had clipboards with pens and paper
and
3. They all had extremely amazing bodies ... except for one of them.
As it turns out they were from a well known gym chain here in Melbourne, trying to promote the gym and sign up people for membership. They all split up and approached people on the street and talked to them. Usually, I'm sure, all eyes would have been on the majority of the group who were so insanely good looking, like elite-athlete-bodies-with-supermodel-faces good looking, it was crazy. Today not so much. My eyes were not on them at all, my eyes were on this one girl who looked nothing like the rest of them.
Why? Because you couldn't help but look at her. She exuded not just happiness but confidence and grace and strength, and well, pretty much every characteristic every woman wants to have. I could actually feel myself smiling when I looked at her. If there was one person that would make me want to sign up to that gym, it would have been her; even though she wasn't particularly fit looking and she was no where close to having that "ideal" body gyms usually promote.
Watching her, luckily along with other people otherwise I could have been considered borderline creepy, I heard her enthusiasm for the gym, exercise in general and living the healthy lifestyle. She mentioned nothing about losing weight and trying to look like the others.
Now, she may just have been very good at her job and actually hate all things exercise related, but I don't care. I would like to congratulate this gym, and all other gyms, who promote people of all kinds; who put all people on their posters, on TV, and in the streets. Fat, thin, tall, short, wide, narrow, male, female, muscled, flabby. Whatever. Firstly, it's a very smart advertising move, because it says they welcome all people and that all people enjoy being there. Secondly, and more importantly, it is sending such an important message; exercise is for everyone.
The gym, and exercise in general, is definitely not about looking a particular way. Its not even about looking good really. It's about feeling good. Feeling stronger, feeling fitter, feeling healthier, feeling thinner, feeling more confident.
Now, this isn't a novel brand spanking new idea. People have told me this for ages! I just never truly believed it until I saw this girl. I have never been, nor will I ever be, a daintly built girl. I could exercise every hour of every day and still not have that small, size 8, body. Knowing this, however, never stopped me from turning up to gym classes, seeing these smaller girls and thinking that if I kept working hard and exercising a tonne, I could look like them.
But I can't. And that girl can't. And most people out there can't. And thats okay.
Because exercising is fun, gym is fun, the people who do it are fun; and it makes me happy. It took me a long time to realise this, but in the end, that's all I need from it.
Tuesday 12 February 2013
Today I Learnt..... How To Eat Out Alone
Today I was bored. My mum was working, my brother (now leading a nocturnal life in a typical teenage boy fashion) was sleeping, all my med friends were on placement and all my non-med friends were working. Usually, at times like these, I go for a run. But I already had two and a half hours of exercise planned for the evening, and because I'm trying to moderate my exercise from fanatical down to sustainable I decided, why not go out and eat food instead?
That's right. Eating food. In public. By myself.
I actually do this quite often, and those who know me already know this, but today was different. See, I always pretend to be completely comfortable going out and doing things by myself, but truthfully I'm always just that little bit aware of it. I go to the movies by myself; but I always take my phone and scroll through facebook or text people while I'm sitting in that cinema seat waiting for the lights to dim and the movie to start, careful to avoid the eye contact of others around me. I often get coffee or go out for lunch by myself; but I always bring a book, my ipad, or study stuff so that I can look busy and less alone, hoping no one will notice.
It's silly really, because if I was out having lunch with a group of friends and saw someone eating by themselves I would firstly, probably not even notice, and secondly, if I did notice, I wouldn't think anything of it. So surely, knowing this, I should feel completely comfortable doing the same myself right?
Wrong.
Because in my head I feel people are looking and saying "Look at that girl, by herself, she must be lonely, the poor thing".
But today I forgot my book and my phone went dead. So I went into the resturant, asked for a table for one, ordered a coffee and some food and then just sat there. By myself. Enjoying the atmosphere, the scenery, the people chatting around me, the music.
There were two girls, probably a few years younger than me, having lunch a couple of tables down. Because the resturant wasn't all that loud, I could hear every word of their conversation.
Girl 1: "That girl is here by herself" (talking about me)
Girl 2: (looking over) "Yeh"
Girl 1: "God, I wish I could do that"
Girl 2: "Yeh, me too, I always feel so judged"
Girl 1: "It must be nice to be so confident in yourself you don't care"
Girl 2: "Maybe we should give it a go"
Girl 1: "Yeh, maybe"
That's right. I ate alone and I was respected for it.
Who would have thought?
That's right. Eating food. In public. By myself.
I actually do this quite often, and those who know me already know this, but today was different. See, I always pretend to be completely comfortable going out and doing things by myself, but truthfully I'm always just that little bit aware of it. I go to the movies by myself; but I always take my phone and scroll through facebook or text people while I'm sitting in that cinema seat waiting for the lights to dim and the movie to start, careful to avoid the eye contact of others around me. I often get coffee or go out for lunch by myself; but I always bring a book, my ipad, or study stuff so that I can look busy and less alone, hoping no one will notice.
It's silly really, because if I was out having lunch with a group of friends and saw someone eating by themselves I would firstly, probably not even notice, and secondly, if I did notice, I wouldn't think anything of it. So surely, knowing this, I should feel completely comfortable doing the same myself right?
Wrong.
Because in my head I feel people are looking and saying "Look at that girl, by herself, she must be lonely, the poor thing".
But today I forgot my book and my phone went dead. So I went into the resturant, asked for a table for one, ordered a coffee and some food and then just sat there. By myself. Enjoying the atmosphere, the scenery, the people chatting around me, the music.
There were two girls, probably a few years younger than me, having lunch a couple of tables down. Because the resturant wasn't all that loud, I could hear every word of their conversation.
Girl 1: "That girl is here by herself" (talking about me)
Girl 2: (looking over) "Yeh"
Girl 1: "God, I wish I could do that"
Girl 2: "Yeh, me too, I always feel so judged"
Girl 1: "It must be nice to be so confident in yourself you don't care"
Girl 2: "Maybe we should give it a go"
Girl 1: "Yeh, maybe"
That's right. I ate alone and I was respected for it.
Who would have thought?
Monday 11 February 2013
Today I Learnt.... What Happens When You Live Out Of Your Car For A Year
I traveled a lot last year, lived between my house out in Trafalgar, my mum's, my dad's, my step mum's and my friend's houses. Also, I'm lazy. What happened because of this? Well, everything I own slowly ended up in my car. As well as most of the soccer pitch.
Now there are many benefits of living out of your car:
1. You always have a change of clothes
2. You never have to worry about not having the right pair of shoes with you
3. You are prepared for pretty much everything minus a nuclear war
and
4. You know where everything is
But there are a few downsides as well, such as losing an incredible amount of socks and your car smelling of the combination of dust + old coffee + feet.
So today I tackled the seemingly impossible task of cleaning my car, inside and out; and I learnt many things.
1. When you let dirt settle for a year it seems to attach itself with surprising strength to the paintwork of your car. Subsquently even though my car is now sparkling I still have my sister's name and "Wash Me" engraved on the back.
2. It's nice to see the original colour of your car return. In my case this colour is "guava" (welcome back you sparkly not-quite-orange-not-quite-pink colour that makes my car so easy to spot in a carpark)
3. I am now rich in coins
4. I consumed a lot of coffee last year
5. I no longer have to go stationery shopping for the year, in fact, I can probably open my own shop
6. I now own way too many socks. Also, there is surprising joy in uncovering socks one at a time, thinking "Oo I think I found the other one in this pair a few minutes ago", searching through your pile of lone socks, finding the one you're looking for, and then reuniting the two.
And
7. Finding long lost objects is like finding gold. (Hello, guitar tuner, how I've missed you!)
So now my car is all clean, my day has been successful and I have learnt many things. Truthfully, though, I miss my messy car with its oh so distinctive smell. Its okay though, I have the whole year to do it all over again.
Now there are many benefits of living out of your car:
1. You always have a change of clothes
2. You never have to worry about not having the right pair of shoes with you
3. You are prepared for pretty much everything minus a nuclear war
and
4. You know where everything is
But there are a few downsides as well, such as losing an incredible amount of socks and your car smelling of the combination of dust + old coffee + feet.
So today I tackled the seemingly impossible task of cleaning my car, inside and out; and I learnt many things.
1. When you let dirt settle for a year it seems to attach itself with surprising strength to the paintwork of your car. Subsquently even though my car is now sparkling I still have my sister's name and "Wash Me" engraved on the back.
2. It's nice to see the original colour of your car return. In my case this colour is "guava" (welcome back you sparkly not-quite-orange-not-quite-pink colour that makes my car so easy to spot in a carpark)
3. I am now rich in coins
4. I consumed a lot of coffee last year
5. I no longer have to go stationery shopping for the year, in fact, I can probably open my own shop
6. I now own way too many socks. Also, there is surprising joy in uncovering socks one at a time, thinking "Oo I think I found the other one in this pair a few minutes ago", searching through your pile of lone socks, finding the one you're looking for, and then reuniting the two.
And
7. Finding long lost objects is like finding gold. (Hello, guitar tuner, how I've missed you!)
So now my car is all clean, my day has been successful and I have learnt many things. Truthfully, though, I miss my messy car with its oh so distinctive smell. Its okay though, I have the whole year to do it all over again.
Saturday 9 February 2013
Today I Learnt..... Well, Rediscovered..... The Perfect Lunch
Toast + Margarine + Vegemite + Grated Cheese = The perfect lunch
Now, I bet you're wondering what is so good about the simple combination of vegemite and cheese on toast. Surely there are much better lunch options out there right?!
You are indeed right, I can think of many more favourable lunch options.
But cheese and vegemite holds a special place in my heart.
Is it because I had it for lunch nearly everyday of my high school existence?
Is it because it's impossible to spread vegemite without shredding the bread and making a hole in the process?
Or is it because it simply tastes so damn good?
Probably all of the above really. All I know is that I've had this combination for the past three days and it makes me so happy its actually ridiculous. As soon as I bite into the deliciousness that is my lunch I am filled with memories.
The time my tennis partner spent hours over this same breakfast teaching my dad how to plait my hair
The first time I babysat when I was 13 and could only offer the kids this for lunch
How every time I felt sick in the tummy when I was young, vegemite toast was my mums answer, and she was always right
How I literally lived on toast with basic spreads the whole first year I moved out of home
The endless camps I led on, surrounded by people and children who were so hungry from a jam packed day that they ate these sandwiches like they were the best things they've ever had
And most recently, two days ago, spending time with a friend who is the closest friend I've ever had, and realising just how much I've grown over the last few years and how much I've changed.
Memory Food. Making ordinary food extraordinary.
Now, I bet you're wondering what is so good about the simple combination of vegemite and cheese on toast. Surely there are much better lunch options out there right?!
You are indeed right, I can think of many more favourable lunch options.
But cheese and vegemite holds a special place in my heart.
Is it because I had it for lunch nearly everyday of my high school existence?
Is it because it's impossible to spread vegemite without shredding the bread and making a hole in the process?
Or is it because it simply tastes so damn good?
Probably all of the above really. All I know is that I've had this combination for the past three days and it makes me so happy its actually ridiculous. As soon as I bite into the deliciousness that is my lunch I am filled with memories.
The time my tennis partner spent hours over this same breakfast teaching my dad how to plait my hair
The first time I babysat when I was 13 and could only offer the kids this for lunch
How every time I felt sick in the tummy when I was young, vegemite toast was my mums answer, and she was always right
How I literally lived on toast with basic spreads the whole first year I moved out of home
The endless camps I led on, surrounded by people and children who were so hungry from a jam packed day that they ate these sandwiches like they were the best things they've ever had
And most recently, two days ago, spending time with a friend who is the closest friend I've ever had, and realising just how much I've grown over the last few years and how much I've changed.
Memory Food. Making ordinary food extraordinary.
Friday 8 February 2013
Today I Learnt..... My Potential New LandLord is Definitely Crazy
This actually happened yesterday, but anyway.
In exactly 23 days I'm moving up to Darwin for 10 months, because I had the brilliant brainwave that it would be grand to move to a place thats 36 degrees all year round with 90% humidity. In a typical me kind of way I have yet to organise any form of accomodation, you know, I'm that everything-always-works-out-2-days-is-plenty-of-time-to-book-flights-and-longterm-accomodation person. So after discovering that Darwin is unreasonably expensive and that I was unwilling to compromise on the presence of airconditioning in my future home, I found the perfect place.
3 bedrooms
$170 per week including all bills
airconditioning
fully furnished rooms
on an acre of rainforest
resort style pool
easy access to public transport
close to the university, beach, shops and hospital
So naturally I jumped at the advertisement, emailed the lady immediately, and secured my position in the hosue. I couldn't believe that this house was still available!! The lady told me to call her before coming up to Darwin. So I did, and this was the following conversation:
Lady: (cough, cough, pause, croaky voice) "Ello"
Me: Hi, is this Suzy?
Lady: Yes
Me: Its Bron from Melbourne, you asked me to call about a room?
Lady: Yes
(Long pause)
Me: So I'm calling?
Lady: Yes
(Long pause)
Me: Do you think you'll have a room for me to rent?
Lady: Are you in Darwin?
Me: No, I'm coming up on the 25th of Feb
Lady: Yes you are
(Long pause)
Me: So do you think you'll have a room?
Lady: what day is it today?
Me: Ahhh Thursday
Lady: no, what DAY is it today
Me: (long pause), ahhh the 7th?
Lady: Okay I'll pick you up from the airport
(Hangs up the phone)
Just a few questions ran through my mind:
1. Why is she picking me up from the airport?
2. Does she even have a house for me?
3. How well do I remember my kickboxing?
4. How much would it hurt to jump out of a moving vehicle in case I have to flee?
Now most people would have the sense to tell the Lady they're not interested, but I'm kind of curious to find out just how crazy she truly is. So I will see her on the 25th, get into her car, and rent a room from her for a year.
I'm going to love Darwin if all its people are like her!
In exactly 23 days I'm moving up to Darwin for 10 months, because I had the brilliant brainwave that it would be grand to move to a place thats 36 degrees all year round with 90% humidity. In a typical me kind of way I have yet to organise any form of accomodation, you know, I'm that everything-always-works-out-2-days-is-plenty-of-time-to-book-flights-and-longterm-accomodation person. So after discovering that Darwin is unreasonably expensive and that I was unwilling to compromise on the presence of airconditioning in my future home, I found the perfect place.
3 bedrooms
$170 per week including all bills
airconditioning
fully furnished rooms
on an acre of rainforest
resort style pool
easy access to public transport
close to the university, beach, shops and hospital
So naturally I jumped at the advertisement, emailed the lady immediately, and secured my position in the hosue. I couldn't believe that this house was still available!! The lady told me to call her before coming up to Darwin. So I did, and this was the following conversation:
Lady: (cough, cough, pause, croaky voice) "Ello"
Me: Hi, is this Suzy?
Lady: Yes
Me: Its Bron from Melbourne, you asked me to call about a room?
Lady: Yes
(Long pause)
Me: So I'm calling?
Lady: Yes
(Long pause)
Me: Do you think you'll have a room for me to rent?
Lady: Are you in Darwin?
Me: No, I'm coming up on the 25th of Feb
Lady: Yes you are
(Long pause)
Me: So do you think you'll have a room?
Lady: what day is it today?
Me: Ahhh Thursday
Lady: no, what DAY is it today
Me: (long pause), ahhh the 7th?
Lady: Okay I'll pick you up from the airport
(Hangs up the phone)
Just a few questions ran through my mind:
1. Why is she picking me up from the airport?
2. Does she even have a house for me?
3. How well do I remember my kickboxing?
4. How much would it hurt to jump out of a moving vehicle in case I have to flee?
Now most people would have the sense to tell the Lady they're not interested, but I'm kind of curious to find out just how crazy she truly is. So I will see her on the 25th, get into her car, and rent a room from her for a year.
I'm going to love Darwin if all its people are like her!
Thursday 7 February 2013
Today I Learnt..... The Resilience of a 6 year old
So I have a 6 year old sister right, and she's crazy about the ocean, so much so that she has joined the local "Little nippers", which is lifesaving for kids.
So we're on a family holiday at the beach and all she wants to do is to swim in the sea with me; but the beach has a danger rating of 7.5/10 and there are no lifesaving flags at this time of year. I look out at the sea and it is rough! The waves are huge and strong and I can see rips all the way from the beach. There are a few people swimming though and they look okay, so I tell my sister that we can go swimming. On a side note, the water is freezing, like "oh-its-actually-not-so-bad-because-im-so-numb-I-can't-feel-anything" kind of cold.
Anyway, we go swimming and its clearly too rough for her; its even too rough for me. About half an hour in, a gigantic wave comes, knocks us flying and dunks me so hard I feel like I've been thrown in a washing machine. I surface, a little worse for wear, but my sister is nowhere to be seen. So I start to panic because I'm suddenly that crazy person who let her Grade 1 sister swim in a dangerous ocean and then lost her. Suddenly she surfaces, like 50m away from me, close to the shore, coughing and spluttering and looking pretty exhausted.
So I swim up to her, trying madly to think of creative ways to make this whole situation okay. I start freaking out that she's going to be scared of the ocean forever and that i've psychologically destroyed her. Finally I reach her, and before I get a chance to comfort her or even say a word, she turns to me with the biggest smile and goes:
"WOW! That was a BIG one, I felt EXACTLY LIKE A BOOGIE BOARD!!!! Are you okay Bronny? Your eyes are a bit red, if you just blink really fast the salt doesn't hurt them anymore. HOW COOL IS THAT!"
And without another word my tiny, 6-year-old, crazy optimistic, sister runs back into the ocean for round two.
I. Love. Kids.
So we're on a family holiday at the beach and all she wants to do is to swim in the sea with me; but the beach has a danger rating of 7.5/10 and there are no lifesaving flags at this time of year. I look out at the sea and it is rough! The waves are huge and strong and I can see rips all the way from the beach. There are a few people swimming though and they look okay, so I tell my sister that we can go swimming. On a side note, the water is freezing, like "oh-its-actually-not-so-bad-because-im-so-numb-I-can't-feel-anything" kind of cold.
Anyway, we go swimming and its clearly too rough for her; its even too rough for me. About half an hour in, a gigantic wave comes, knocks us flying and dunks me so hard I feel like I've been thrown in a washing machine. I surface, a little worse for wear, but my sister is nowhere to be seen. So I start to panic because I'm suddenly that crazy person who let her Grade 1 sister swim in a dangerous ocean and then lost her. Suddenly she surfaces, like 50m away from me, close to the shore, coughing and spluttering and looking pretty exhausted.
So I swim up to her, trying madly to think of creative ways to make this whole situation okay. I start freaking out that she's going to be scared of the ocean forever and that i've psychologically destroyed her. Finally I reach her, and before I get a chance to comfort her or even say a word, she turns to me with the biggest smile and goes:
"WOW! That was a BIG one, I felt EXACTLY LIKE A BOOGIE BOARD!!!! Are you okay Bronny? Your eyes are a bit red, if you just blink really fast the salt doesn't hurt them anymore. HOW COOL IS THAT!"
And without another word my tiny, 6-year-old, crazy optimistic, sister runs back into the ocean for round two.
I. Love. Kids.
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