July 2007 Archives
Whether it's your mutual love of 100-packs of frozen dim sims, your shared ability to eat enormous quantities of food without skipping a beat, your common understanding of Saturday Night Pants, Boy Band Style and Walker Texas Ranger... You guys are just perfect for each other. I don't even need to say anything about the future, because I know how good it will be to the two of you. You know how much I love you both.
Now, it's time for me to put some champagne in my backpack (and that's just to tide us over through the preparations) and to get me some waterproof mascara - and let's par-tay.
So much has happened in the last few days, including being as sick as a dog and having no internet access for some time. Talk about crazyness. Here are some highlights.
- waved husband and in-laws (who had been suitably impressed by the australian cheese my father brought out on monday night) off to tasmania for three days.
- wedding rehearsal. tears. already. (mental note : still need to buy waterproof mascara. and a big packet of tissues. pity there is no room to stuff them anywhere in my dress)
- all up, I got so sick that I had fevers two nights in a row, then woke up every hour, on the hour, on the third night. So very sick. With coughing and sneezing, punctuated by lots of phlegm and snot. Delightful. The dreams were interesting though - running up and down the escalators of a department store in Melbourne, my sisters dress in my arms, collecting important things such as jewellery and stockings. For some reason, however, just like in a computer game, I only had so much room in my inventory and had to keep dropping vital stuff to pick up other stuff. A real dilemma.
- fought the illness with copious amounts of panamax and multivitamins.
- spent quality time with sassy sister and fantastic future bro-in-law.
- terrorised sisters cat.
- ate amazing vietnamese pancake (amongst other things) on victoria street.
- tried on shoes in about 30 shops along bridge road. teehee.
- found a bra to go with the dress. The situation is contained. The general populace is delighted to hear it, I'm sure.
- discussed song options for 'the first dance' with happy couple. Agreed that songs with v. audibly naughty lyrics may not please all attendees at the wedding.
- got even sicker, realised I am not superwoman and collapsed in bed for 24 hours.
- due to illness, missed out on a superfantastic musical extravaganza, with the musical direction done by an old old old friend. v. bummed about this.
- drank enough orange juice to hydrate a small army.
- found shoes and a stole and got a much-needed haircut, all in the space of 3 hours. Felt very happy with myself indeed.
- downed a couple of multivitamins and stuffed myself silly at Tiba's, along with whole extended family. My sis did us proud. A good start to what will surely be a good weekend. Now I just need to find out where I put those multivitamins. I wonder if they'll dissolve in champagne.
- one hundred different languages in the train. Not tourists. Australians. I love it.
- felt a bit lost wandering around the city. Lots of things have changed.
- juice bars. Mmmm.
- café lifestyle. foccacia. freshly squeezed orange juice. coffee. cheesecake. Paris has its cafés, but there's just something about the fabulously laidback atmosphere you'll find in Melbourne cafés. Not to mention that you'll almost always have decent coffee in Melbourne, whereas it can be hit and miss in Paris.
- found a tie for Sylvain for the wedding. He's going to look smashing.
- had my heart broken over a beayoooootiful necklace that was worth $1,300. All my sisters fault. Had to settle for something less. Something, like, about a tenth of the price. Fervently wish I could have been paid for all the overtime I've been doing. Ah well. Now all that remains is to find the shoes. And a jacket/shrug/cardigan/something else to keep out the cold. And stockings. And get a haircut. Hmm. Well, at least that's one thing done. Phew.
- it is not possible for me to be more excited about the wedding than I am now. I may burst.
- and now my parents-in-law are flying in, and I have to get the stinky cheese out for supper. My dad seems to think that Australia needs to show France that we can do good cheese too.
Every time we've travelled back to Australia, I've had a lot of trouble finding the time to write about our adventures. I usually like to think carefully about my posts, and construct something meaningful for me. But we're always doing so much stuff that when I do manage to post, I try to cram it all into one little space and I feel like I'm not doing credit to it, and even then I don't say all that I want to say. This is such a pity, because I want to keep a record of these special times, so my solution is to forget about careful construction of thoughtful posts, and to simply record it. Thus will be my blogging for the next month. We'll see how it goes.
four five six weeks in the year, I hate beavers. Especially beavers related to travaux castor. Where the bus that was supposed to replace our normally reliable train service simply didn't turn up and I had to run out into the street several times in an attempt to flag down a taxi so we could get to the airport on time. Our obliging taxi driver then switched freely between singing "Grace Kelly" by Mika off-key and talking about the latest air disasters in Brazil. Comforting for people heading to the airport.
- There was a moment of crisis as we set down in Dubai, when Sylvain realised he had left his International License in France. The thing he needs to rent a car on Tuesday with his parents when they go to Tasmania. Ahem. All I can say about that little incident is that at least the resulting activity as we tried to find a solution filled up the waiting time in Dubai. Still not resolved to our satisfaction, but we'll manage. It'll teach me a lesson: my old habit of writing lists of things to pack is not such a bad idea, providing one has the time to think about it before one leaves. We'll have to make the time.
- I love love love the movies/tv on command business in the new Emirates aeroplanes. And the fact that, from Dubai, they don't have to stop and refuel in Singapore. What was once the second and third legs of a Very Long Trip, taking over 15 hours, has now been cut down to 13 hours. Still an exhausting Very Long Trip, but not as bad as it used to be.
- As we touched down in Melbourne, Sylvain realised that this is his fourth visit to Australia. He thinks of himself as half-aussie now.
- Hugs from my parents and silly jokes about spiders and smelly socks.
- Fruit and cinnamon muffins for breakfast. Sylvain's first taste of crumpets.
- A two-hour power nap on a proper, rectangular pillow miraculously got rid of the crick in my neck from sleeping on the plane.
- A big hug from my sister, who, towering over me in beer-stained cowgirl boots, immediately commented on my eyebrows and demanded to see the dress. Apparently we will be bra shopping this week. Amongst other things.
- Watching Sylvain and my soon-to-be brother-in-law gang up on me and my sis. I think this could get interesting. They have no idea of what they're getting themselves into.
- Visits from old friends, people that are as close as family. It's like I saw them just last week.
- A whole bag of salt'n'vinegar chips. That I shared gracefully with an almost three-year-old, only because she looked so cute when she said "please".
- Lasagne and garlic bread.
- Lots and lots and lots of exciting plans for the weeks to come.
- Wine. Followed by more wine. Followed by more wine. And a bit more wine. Which was then followed by Baileys. And a bit more Baileys. I think we'll sleep well tonight.
The whirlwind, for now, is over. It will stir itself up again at the end of August, when we go back to work, but at least we have a month of respite in between. A much needed break. A breath. An exciting journey.
I had a long and elaborate post prepared in my head for today, full of reflection and introspection, and had been planning on catching up on a million emails (Helen, I really do love you, and I will get back to you for your aussie shopping list asap), but as usual time gets away from me and I have only managed to get the essentials done today. Like last-minute packing. At least there's that.
Now, I just need to go and settle the butterflies in my stomach that I always get when I'm faced with long-haul flights like this.
Time to hit the yellow brick road. See you on the other side.
We are watching the film version of Phantom of the Opera on tv.
Sylvain asks, "so who is the guy in the mask? and what is he doing down there?"
"Down there" being the underground lake underneath the Opera House. To be fair, he hasn't read the book or seen the musical before, and he missed the first fifteen minutes of the movie. So I explain.
Ten minutes go by. I try not to sing along, with only mild success.
Sylvain frowns at the screen, "so hold on, what does he eat down there?"
Trust him to get caught up in the practicalities of it all, whilst I'm swept away with the music.
So, after a Very Long Week of Very Long Days, a late Harry Potter showing, a house full of adorable guests, a superbly sunny and bubble-filled Bastille Day, puncutated by smelly cheese and pink champagne, shared with lots of old friends and lots of new ones*, tremendously fun fireworks and late-night navigations of the train system, the obligatory crazyness of podcasting and playing of the wii, the thing you probably shouldn't find yourself doing at midnight on a Sunday night is pulling apart your washing machine to find out why it's not working anymore.
I need a holiday.
*I started to link to you all but it soon got out of hand, so I'll put a list up on the latest episode of the podcast instead. Not To Mention that some of you only have imaginary blogs anyway (you know who you are)
We've been having a most unusually wet summer - it's not particularly cold, but there has been a lot of rain, and everyone keeps exclaiming, "oh! this weather! it is not july weather!"
I'm just happy that the weather has been so unexciting that I don't mind being cooped up at work all day when it's raining. And it's much less depressing to do 13 hours a day when I can leave work and it's still light outside.
And, en plus, the rain keeps the buskers away. Who knew that a July in Paris could possibly exist without Piaf on the accordion all afternoon?
As hard as it is to work these long days and weeks, I'm almost perversely enjoying myself - there is no doubt that I cannot keep this momentum up forever, but I actually enjoy my job and everything that makes it so challenging. But I'm digging so deep inside myself to find the strength and the creativity to tide me over until the end, that something has to suffer. So it's my blog, for now. I keep writing posts in my head about the things I see and do - each post more unbelievably witty and uber-intelligent than the last, as you can no doubt imagine - but I just don't have the time to sit down and put the words into this magical typing machine. But rest assured, although my posts are intermittent at best over these few weeks, your normally scheduled programming of mundane glimpses into the life of the Aussie Lass, the Frenchman and the Burmese will be back soon!
In the meantime, go and listen to the podcast. Despite the chaos, there's still fun to be had.
After the most excruciating migraine I've ever had in my life last Monday, I have been chasing away the leftovers with caffeine and sleep, and fending off a re-attack with positive thoughts. "I will not get another migraine."
Too Much Work.
I know this. The people around me know this. My boss knows this. We're in a tight corner, but I know that if I keep my head down and tail up, things will get done in the end.
It's just tiring.
I realised on Friday that we have only three weeks before we head to Australia again. Normally I'm ranting on and on about it for months, and overflowing with excitement - but this time around, I just haven't had the time to get into that state of mind. As thrilled as I am about going to my sisters wedding, everything else is a little bit overwhelming at the moment and I've just been trying to survive the last few weeks without going under.
Then, this morning, I called my sister. Her fiancé answered the phone, and after exchanging excited greetings, I asked him, "how are you?"
He replied, with a grin in his voice, "brilliant! In just a few weeks, I'm going to be marrying the most beautiful girl in the world."
And my heart melted. And I got teary. And my migraine faded to the back of my head. And I got excited.
We're going to Australia. In just three weeks.
Time to stock up on salt'n'vinegar chips and the vodka, kidlets. We're coming to party.
In the meantime, go and listen to the latest episode of the podcast. You'll find out more about Katia and Kyliemac in just this episode than you have learned in the all the other episodes combined, and it's a certain frog that's to blame.