Sunday is a sleep in far past sensible. It's a slow start with washing and the groceries. It's coming in right on budget yet again. It's jam on toast for lunch and watching greys anatomy. It's a headache that persists and persists.
It's Finishing the washing and tidying up and Simona tidying the hall cupboard so well I fear for her mental health. It's a quick Skype with the nieces and my sister and back to the housework. Sunday is working on my PhD and being excited. It's seeing ideas come together. It's a nap to rid myself of the headache (unsuccessful).
Sunday is the weekly baking and this week it's honey oat biscuits from Edmonds which might be the best yet. It's a roast lamb for dinner with the best roast potatoes I have made and roast pumpkin carrot and made from scratch gravy. It's watching bondi rescue and doing the dishes while listening to the radio.
It's a new tele show and then bed and a book. Sunday is hot and muggy and threatening rain.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Saturday
Saturday is waking early from habit and snoozing til it's time to go to the garden. Saturday is walking to summer hill in the sunshine. Saturday is chatting with new people and eating muffins. Saturday is planting seedlings we grew from scratch into rich soil wriggling with worms. Saturday is replanting the rhubarb into a bed with space and depth. Saturday is feeling like the rhubarb.
Saturday is catching the train to redfern and walking to the everleigh market. It's seeing the very first of the autumn leaves. It's wandering past terraces and trendy cafes and a cute girl teasing her grandad.
It's looking at flowers and tasting bread and jam and yoghurt. It's chatting with Meredith and looking at all the gorgeous people. It's seeing sweet lesbian couples bravely holding hands (yes even here). It's wishing the cat people were here today.
Saturday is waking through the uni and across the park and up the road. Saturday is finding the glebe market in all it's glory. It's eating gosleme and drinking fresh cold lemon juice. It's finding a new cafe that sells churros with chocolate sauce and strawberrys and Icecream.
It's the quick walk to the bus and home to the cool cave of our home. It's a long bath and trying a million outfits. It's putting on makeup and going out with friends. It's shouted conversations in the noisiest pub in the world. It's dinner and the train home. It's being glad for gentle friendships that don't demand much but give a lot.
It's to bed and an emergency cockroach call out and Simona taking refuge for the night from the Terror of the Roach. It's a warm night full of chirps and peeps of insects. It's peace and being where I am meant to be.
Saturday is catching the train to redfern and walking to the everleigh market. It's seeing the very first of the autumn leaves. It's wandering past terraces and trendy cafes and a cute girl teasing her grandad.
It's looking at flowers and tasting bread and jam and yoghurt. It's chatting with Meredith and looking at all the gorgeous people. It's seeing sweet lesbian couples bravely holding hands (yes even here). It's wishing the cat people were here today.
Saturday is waking through the uni and across the park and up the road. Saturday is finding the glebe market in all it's glory. It's eating gosleme and drinking fresh cold lemon juice. It's finding a new cafe that sells churros with chocolate sauce and strawberrys and Icecream.
It's the quick walk to the bus and home to the cool cave of our home. It's a long bath and trying a million outfits. It's putting on makeup and going out with friends. It's shouted conversations in the noisiest pub in the world. It's dinner and the train home. It's being glad for gentle friendships that don't demand much but give a lot.
It's to bed and an emergency cockroach call out and Simona taking refuge for the night from the Terror of the Roach. It's a warm night full of chirps and peeps of insects. It's peace and being where I am meant to be.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Wednesday
Wednesday follows Monday and Tuesday which were busy busy and productive and happy.
Wednesday is different. Wednesday catches me out and turns me upside down. Wednesday is crying when people at work are kind and thoughtfully. Wednesday is finding a place outside to cry when I am overwhelmed with grief and confused by my feelings. Wednesday is wearing black and being glad I did. Wednesday is watching the memorial with the sound low. Wednesday is realizing that I am sad because I wasn't there. Wednesday is realizing that I will never be able to really be part of that world now because I wasn't there. Wednesday is weeping and knowing and then it's okay.
Wednesday is getting my work ducks in a row and taking leadership on an issue and feeling good. Wednesday is more ground hog conversations about work politics that depress me. Wednesday is thinking just forget it and get on with things.
Wednesday is getting two briefs back from management and having to do more work on both. Wednesday is being absolutely frustrated and helpless. Wednesday is being micromanaged and not trusted by the leadership. It's taking a deep breath and the taking it out in my boss who is sympathetic but unmoving.
Wednesday is looking at jobs.
Wednesday is coming home via summer hill where the beans are sprouting and it's so peaceful and exciting. Wednesday is cooking an easy dinner and making lunches. Wednesday is watching a new program I haven't decided about yet. Wednesday is going to bed miserable and waking up in pain. But that's Thursday.
Wednesday is different. Wednesday catches me out and turns me upside down. Wednesday is crying when people at work are kind and thoughtfully. Wednesday is finding a place outside to cry when I am overwhelmed with grief and confused by my feelings. Wednesday is wearing black and being glad I did. Wednesday is watching the memorial with the sound low. Wednesday is realizing that I am sad because I wasn't there. Wednesday is realizing that I will never be able to really be part of that world now because I wasn't there. Wednesday is weeping and knowing and then it's okay.
Wednesday is getting my work ducks in a row and taking leadership on an issue and feeling good. Wednesday is more ground hog conversations about work politics that depress me. Wednesday is thinking just forget it and get on with things.
Wednesday is getting two briefs back from management and having to do more work on both. Wednesday is being absolutely frustrated and helpless. Wednesday is being micromanaged and not trusted by the leadership. It's taking a deep breath and the taking it out in my boss who is sympathetic but unmoving.
Wednesday is looking at jobs.
Wednesday is coming home via summer hill where the beans are sprouting and it's so peaceful and exciting. Wednesday is cooking an easy dinner and making lunches. Wednesday is watching a new program I haven't decided about yet. Wednesday is going to bed miserable and waking up in pain. But that's Thursday.
Monday, February 20, 2012
Sunday
Sunday is a sweet day at home. Sunday is a sleep in. Sunday is a lazy start and getting the washing out. Sunday is a leisurely trip to the supermarket and having the do we need this conversation a fair few times.
Sunday is snacks for lunch (snunch) and the housework. Sunday is hand washing my favorite dresses. It's baking afghans and listening to the radio. Sunday is enjoying the rearranged house and wearing just a teeshirt because it's sticky and hot.
Sunday is giving the air the sniff test to see when the storm is coming.
Sunday is cooking dinner slowly while I read my book and Simona studies. Sunday is eating in front of QI. Sunday is the storm coming just as I take the washing off the line. Sunday is getting Simona to watch for cockroaches while I take the washing off the line.
Sunday is a dark room and a storm. Sunday is thunder louder than I ever heard it. Sunday is lightening and rain and more rain.
Sunday is snacks for lunch (snunch) and the housework. Sunday is hand washing my favorite dresses. It's baking afghans and listening to the radio. Sunday is enjoying the rearranged house and wearing just a teeshirt because it's sticky and hot.
Sunday is giving the air the sniff test to see when the storm is coming.
Sunday is cooking dinner slowly while I read my book and Simona studies. Sunday is eating in front of QI. Sunday is the storm coming just as I take the washing off the line. Sunday is getting Simona to watch for cockroaches while I take the washing off the line.
Sunday is a dark room and a storm. Sunday is thunder louder than I ever heard it. Sunday is lightening and rain and more rain.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Saturday
Saturday is sunshine. Saturday is a chance to sleep as long as I like, which was 8:37 today. Saturday is toast and orange juice. Saturday is taking a train and then a bus to my favorite market. It's looking at all the vintage bits and pieces, it's wandering slowly from stall to stall. It's bargaining with stall holders and laughing and walking away. It's finding a set of lovely plates and a vanilla milkshake and an amazing glass jug hand painted with three ducks.
It's spending the last of my cash and then walking down the hill to iron cove. Bay. It's walking through the park and along the shore.
Saturday is seeing a willy wagtail and walkers and sunlight on sea green sea. It's boats and tall trees and people's homes and an old, old hospital.
Saturday is realizing we're not THAT far from home and making a new plan that takes us to Haberfield, where we've never been. Saturday is gorgeous houses and smart lawns and then strange shaped houses and schools named after Joan of Arc. It's finding a sweet cafe off the beaten track with perfect food. Saturday is Simona surprising me by shouting me lunch. It's walking the rest of the way home and calculating our walk at 7km. It's watching tv and suddenly being inspired to change the furniture.
Saturday is dishes and satisfaction and snack food for dinner.
It's spending the last of my cash and then walking down the hill to iron cove. Bay. It's walking through the park and along the shore.
Saturday is seeing a willy wagtail and walkers and sunlight on sea green sea. It's boats and tall trees and people's homes and an old, old hospital.
Saturday is realizing we're not THAT far from home and making a new plan that takes us to Haberfield, where we've never been. Saturday is gorgeous houses and smart lawns and then strange shaped houses and schools named after Joan of Arc. It's finding a sweet cafe off the beaten track with perfect food. Saturday is Simona surprising me by shouting me lunch. It's walking the rest of the way home and calculating our walk at 7km. It's watching tv and suddenly being inspired to change the furniture.
Saturday is dishes and satisfaction and snack food for dinner.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Fridays
Friday is a crackingly speedy morning doing easy administrative tasks and making graphs. It's hanging around talking to colleagues. It's tidying my desk within an inch of its life. It's making a new action list that is organized and colour coded because things have been slipping through the cracks and no matter how much by boss teases me the colours do help.
Friday is a productive afternoon writing a report following my favorite sushi roll for lunch.
It's helping another team write their standards and realizing how much I have learned about that.
Friday is a ride into town with really nice people who give me hints about my suburban saturday walks. It's meeting Simona in town and getting the ferry to manly with our new magazines to read. It's a delicious dinner and the best apple cider I have ever had. It's a walk around the coast line in the dim dusk.
Friday is the ferry home and then a train and then the bliss of my cool bed waiting for me. It's watching QI and falling into a deep sleep that lasts right through to 3:00am.
Friday is sweet and social and successful.
Friday is a productive afternoon writing a report following my favorite sushi roll for lunch.
It's helping another team write their standards and realizing how much I have learned about that.
Friday is a ride into town with really nice people who give me hints about my suburban saturday walks. It's meeting Simona in town and getting the ferry to manly with our new magazines to read. It's a delicious dinner and the best apple cider I have ever had. It's a walk around the coast line in the dim dusk.
Friday is the ferry home and then a train and then the bliss of my cool bed waiting for me. It's watching QI and falling into a deep sleep that lasts right through to 3:00am.
Friday is sweet and social and successful.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Thursday
Thursday is a long day at work, even with the half hour sleep in I allow myself. Thursday is finally finishing the brief to the satisfaction of all. Thursday is a trip to the shops with my colleague and listening to her grief.
Thursday is building over sixty graphs. Thursday is having my work publicly praised at a meeting of my seniors. Thursday is still being at work at 8:00 pm.
It's getting the train home and stopping for bread for Simona's tea. It's making her toast because she is exhausted. It's finding a parcel from Chrissy and Deb that is full of treasures. It's being loved and thought of by those far away. It is finding in the parcel a new cardi I so wanted but could not afford and the exact black long cardi I have been fruitlessly searching for.
Thursday is a turning point in my week, the upswing I have been waiting for.
Thursday is building over sixty graphs. Thursday is having my work publicly praised at a meeting of my seniors. Thursday is still being at work at 8:00 pm.
It's getting the train home and stopping for bread for Simona's tea. It's making her toast because she is exhausted. It's finding a parcel from Chrissy and Deb that is full of treasures. It's being loved and thought of by those far away. It is finding in the parcel a new cardi I so wanted but could not afford and the exact black long cardi I have been fruitlessly searching for.
Thursday is a turning point in my week, the upswing I have been waiting for.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Wednesday is
Wednesday is endless meetings, rewriting briefs and then rewriting then again. Wednesday is feeling defeated and frustrated and leaving work in tears.
Wednesday is Simona waiting at the station for me and walking me home and cooking me dinner. Its eating lasagne in front of Modern Family. It's laughing and forgetting. It's walking down to summer hill to water the garden. It's standing in the cool din of the garden and feeling at peace. It's wandering home to bed and reading
It's being glad I finished the brief.
Wednesday is finally finding an anusara yoga class that's convenient. Wednesday is hard and it is over.
Wednesday is Simona waiting at the station for me and walking me home and cooking me dinner. Its eating lasagne in front of Modern Family. It's laughing and forgetting. It's walking down to summer hill to water the garden. It's standing in the cool din of the garden and feeling at peace. It's wandering home to bed and reading
It's being glad I finished the brief.
Wednesday is finally finding an anusara yoga class that's convenient. Wednesday is hard and it is over.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Tuesday is
Tuesday is playing with statistics and learning about reporting multi response answers, it's worrying about briefs and getting somewhere with organizing reviews. It's worrying about organizing those same reviews but starting to make a plan. It's listening to gossip and feeling guilty but doing it anyway. It's my new friend smiling when she sees me and seeming happier and more open with me since I had her to dinner.
Tuesday is sensitive teeth and nice lunch and a sneaky sushi roll. Tuesday is the new job finally getting approved so I can apply for it. It's wondering why my phd supervisor isn't getting back to me.
It's surprise emails from Simona and planing a night of take always and cider. It's meeting up at Town Hall and talking about work on the way home. It's eating nice food I didn't have to cook and no dishes and a night of good tv.
Tuesday is an early night but my lamp's blown so it's reading with a torch. Tuesday is a quiet day that went too slow and not too much to worry about tomorrow.
Tuesday is sensitive teeth and nice lunch and a sneaky sushi roll. Tuesday is the new job finally getting approved so I can apply for it. It's wondering why my phd supervisor isn't getting back to me.
It's surprise emails from Simona and planing a night of take always and cider. It's meeting up at Town Hall and talking about work on the way home. It's eating nice food I didn't have to cook and no dishes and a night of good tv.
Tuesday is an early night but my lamp's blown so it's reading with a torch. Tuesday is a quiet day that went too slow and not too much to worry about tomorrow.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Monday is
Monday is writing pointless briefs, making awkward phonecalls, sending scary emails and getting good responses.
Monday is thinking about Simona, planning valentines celebrations, looking longingly at photos of my home, having good conversations with my boss.
Monday is finishing my book and looking forward to starting a new one, cooking pasta for tea, choosing my lunch, listening to the radio while we do the dishes together, feeling excited about my PhD, finishing a crossword. Doing the washing. Watching tele. Feeling afraid of insect sounds. Going to bed in my own bed, in my own room to the chirp of cicadas.
Monday is thinking about Simona, planning valentines celebrations, looking longingly at photos of my home, having good conversations with my boss.
Monday is finishing my book and looking forward to starting a new one, cooking pasta for tea, choosing my lunch, listening to the radio while we do the dishes together, feeling excited about my PhD, finishing a crossword. Doing the washing. Watching tele. Feeling afraid of insect sounds. Going to bed in my own bed, in my own room to the chirp of cicadas.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
New toys
Tax money = new iMac.
I am in love.
See:
Just blogging from the couch.
That's all I'm up to.
Friday, July 01, 2011
Sleep I cannot
Can't sleep one bit at the moment. Except, of course, in the morning when I have to get up for work. Having my outfit Partially Planned seems to help get me out of bed but this week even that's been failing.
I have a new iPhone. I love it in a way that frankly is inappropriate. I also have an ongoing passion for bubble games. I blame this entirely on my mother. She has passes her passion on to me.
I have clocked my first bubble game on this phone. Cue sighs of judgement. Yes indeed. My new one is even better in relation to having excellent graphics that are immensely satisfying in a way that I can't articulate. But the sound effects are a complete disappointment. I have to play it with the sound off which is horrifying. I cant overestimate how important sounds are to me. I select my necklaces based oat entirely on their audio qualities. Needless to say I'm disappointed.
Tiny Wings on the other hand. A perfect storm of a game.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
I have a new iPhone. I love it in a way that frankly is inappropriate. I also have an ongoing passion for bubble games. I blame this entirely on my mother. She has passes her passion on to me.
I have clocked my first bubble game on this phone. Cue sighs of judgement. Yes indeed. My new one is even better in relation to having excellent graphics that are immensely satisfying in a way that I can't articulate. But the sound effects are a complete disappointment. I have to play it with the sound off which is horrifying. I cant overestimate how important sounds are to me. I select my necklaces based oat entirely on their audio qualities. Needless to say I'm disappointed.
Tiny Wings on the other hand. A perfect storm of a game.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Wednesday, June 08, 2011
On life being so good
Life is not always this awesome. I've been through stuff. I've spent nights on the floor crying. I've thought a lot about death. I've been broke as and in debt. I've been alone. Been brokenhearted. Been angry. Thought life would never be good. Hated myself. Been separate from my family and not known how to fix it.
But oh my word. Life is good. Life is made of seasons. I know it won't last forever. But right now I'm just soaking in the bright winter sun and storing up my spare joy for later when I might need it.
New friends who surprise me with being even cooler than I thought.
Old friends who just get better and better.
New stuff.
Really great job.
Amazing city to explore.
Cute apartment to make onto a home.
Family. Sisters who love me and text me and email me and give me advice and keep sharing their lives with me even though I abandoned them.
My cute as a new pin BFF. How cute is a new pin?
Sheesh!!!!!! I'm loving this moment.
But oh my word. Life is good. Life is made of seasons. I know it won't last forever. But right now I'm just soaking in the bright winter sun and storing up my spare joy for later when I might need it.
New friends who surprise me with being even cooler than I thought.
Old friends who just get better and better.
New stuff.
Really great job.
Amazing city to explore.
Cute apartment to make onto a home.
Family. Sisters who love me and text me and email me and give me advice and keep sharing their lives with me even though I abandoned them.
My cute as a new pin BFF. How cute is a new pin?
Sheesh!!!!!! I'm loving this moment.
Location:Rose St,Ashfield,Australia
Wednesday, June 01, 2011
Thrifty Saturday at a Pop Up Market
Saturday afternoon found me on a hideous rail bus (silly track work cancelled my train) travelling to meet Simona at Newtown. We were going to go clothes shopping but got way laid by a pop up market by the train station.
It was one of those awesome scrappy little markets with random stuff everywhere. I totally loved it. I accidently spent $50. Opps.
Finds included:
Tiny and amazingly wonderful vintage tea pot for one. Cos only one of us drinks tea.
It was one of those awesome scrappy little markets with random stuff everywhere. I totally loved it. I accidently spent $50. Opps.
Finds included:
Stupendously cool leather bag - real vintage treasure of happiness and delight.
Set of three Alfred Meakin dessert bowls. All worn and used and just how I like them.
Shabby but beautiful cake slice. With a mother of pearl handle.
Insanely beautiful handbag for Simona. Just look at those tarnished old buckles.
Crazy cute egg hen. Holds about three eggs at a pinch, but you can't fault it for cuteness value.
Tiny and amazingly wonderful vintage tea pot for one. Cos only one of us drinks tea.
One of my favorite thrifting days ever. Shall we go when you visit Deb Robertson?
Sunday, May 29, 2011
An Ode to my Parents
It's nearly lunch time on a Sunday, and I'm not at church. Nope, I'm actually in a towel in my lounge having just escaped from my bed and into the shower.
I don't go to church. This is not nessesarily a permanent arrangement.
My parents are Christians. They're the good kind. The brave kind. I am a Christian because they are. Yeah, I'm a Christian because that's how I was raised. It's familiar, it's home. It's the way I have always made sense of my life. But I'm also a Christian because my parents are who they are.
They spent too many years in the kind of church that is a trespass against the very nature of God. The kind of church that makes too many rules. That denies grace. That denigrates the value of women, and therefore of all people. They escaped that kind of Christianity when I was in my early teens.
Since then, they have done the opposite of what many people do. Instead of having the boundaries of their life and faith narrow, they have pushed back and expanded. They have said, what part of this faith of mine is true? What part shall I let go? That's courage, my word, that's courage.
They live out their faith in different ways. Mum goes to church every Sunday. Dad stays home. The best part of this is that they accept and support each other in this. Dad doesn't say, why do you bother? Mum doesn't say, you should go to church. They have room inside their faith for more than one way of expressing it. They honour the different expressions of their shared faith.
This helps me to be brave. I know that my particular expression and framework of faith would not be what many Christians would accept. But I have been supported by my parents to find my own way to a faith that engages me, that comforts me, that pushes me past my own boundaries. I embrace a faith that might not always be what they would choose, but I am proud to be their daughter and to honour the heritage they gift to me.
So it's Sunday and I'm not at church. But maybe I am, in my living room, watching things like this:
I don't go to church. This is not nessesarily a permanent arrangement.
My parents are Christians. They're the good kind. The brave kind. I am a Christian because they are. Yeah, I'm a Christian because that's how I was raised. It's familiar, it's home. It's the way I have always made sense of my life. But I'm also a Christian because my parents are who they are.
They spent too many years in the kind of church that is a trespass against the very nature of God. The kind of church that makes too many rules. That denies grace. That denigrates the value of women, and therefore of all people. They escaped that kind of Christianity when I was in my early teens.
Since then, they have done the opposite of what many people do. Instead of having the boundaries of their life and faith narrow, they have pushed back and expanded. They have said, what part of this faith of mine is true? What part shall I let go? That's courage, my word, that's courage.
They live out their faith in different ways. Mum goes to church every Sunday. Dad stays home. The best part of this is that they accept and support each other in this. Dad doesn't say, why do you bother? Mum doesn't say, you should go to church. They have room inside their faith for more than one way of expressing it. They honour the different expressions of their shared faith.
This helps me to be brave. I know that my particular expression and framework of faith would not be what many Christians would accept. But I have been supported by my parents to find my own way to a faith that engages me, that comforts me, that pushes me past my own boundaries. I embrace a faith that might not always be what they would choose, but I am proud to be their daughter and to honour the heritage they gift to me.
So it's Sunday and I'm not at church. But maybe I am, in my living room, watching things like this:
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Kitchens
My kitchen is one of my favorite places in the house. We hang out there like crazy. I'll be baking or cooking and Simona will be sitting at the kitchen table studying. We have music on, our neighbours smile and wave through the window...it's basically sweetness.
I have started religiously keeping all glass bottles that pass through the house - soaking them and getting those pesky stickers right off them. Plus I've been purchasing the odd cute but impractical glass and hunting out old and tiny bottles.
All this in aid of having somewhere to put the flowers, grasses, feathers, seed pods and various other things that I inevitably come home with every day. So my window sill is a constantly changing parade of flora from our neighbourhood.
Plus, it's amazing how a practical thing that looks so prosaic can become so beautiful when it's denuded of stickers and full of flowers. I like to take things and use them in the opposite way - like using souvenir teaspoons for every day use.
Gorgeous vase on the far right all the way from my Sister's table.
I have started religiously keeping all glass bottles that pass through the house - soaking them and getting those pesky stickers right off them. Plus I've been purchasing the odd cute but impractical glass and hunting out old and tiny bottles.
All this in aid of having somewhere to put the flowers, grasses, feathers, seed pods and various other things that I inevitably come home with every day. So my window sill is a constantly changing parade of flora from our neighbourhood.
Plus, it's amazing how a practical thing that looks so prosaic can become so beautiful when it's denuded of stickers and full of flowers. I like to take things and use them in the opposite way - like using souvenir teaspoons for every day use.
Gorgeous vase on the far right all the way from my Sister's table.
It makes me happy.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
bazaar goodness part two
my goodness that bazaar was a good 'un. I'm still bathing in the warmth of the bazaar happiness. My school desk has been put to work in my room (oh such a shame for me it didn't fit any where else). It is holding the yellow typewriter (until we figure out where it goes) and it now is home to my gorgeous sewing machine. Which means it is set up and ready to go all the time - I predict this will boost my sewing time tremendously. Important next step: invest in some fabric. Sadly, this will need to be postponed while I save up to visit the dentist. I have a tooth that is falling apart. Literally.
Anyway I'm still in denial about that so let's quickly move on.
Anyway I'm still in denial about that so let's quickly move on.
Scarves - in the left a lovely heavy silk scarf and on the right lightest oroton silk scarf you ever clapped eyes on. It's tremendous.
This is a book of 'English cathedrals' and it includes plans. Well, I tell you what book, I have plans for you. You would love the plans if you saw them. I love plans and I love cathedrals so I'm pretty much hyperventilating in the church car park over this one.
Doilies. I'm so inspired by doilies. I just can't leave them alone. I keep using them - sewing them on things and then making brooches out of them. I have some new plans for them - especially the top one in this photograph. It's so beautiful and stained. It is even more compelling to me because it is damaged.
Ring the bell that still can ring
forget your perfect offering
there is a crack in everything
that's how the light gets in.
-Leonard Cohen
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Me and dieting
Me and dieting. Me and my body. Me and the mirror. Me and portia de Rossi. This blog could have so many titles.
I have been dieting or "not dieting" since I was about 15. That was when I realized that I was not normal. Or that I was fat. Those things are pretty much equated in my mind.
Writing this blog makes me sad. I am sad for all the years I thought I was not good enough. I am sad for all the women who told me (implicitly or explicitly) that being fat meant I was not good enough.
All my life I believed the story that I was told. Every one told me the same story. If you are fat, then nothing about you matters as much as that. No matter how successful you are, or how good, or how smart, or how gifted or tender hearted or generous or loving, none of that is as important as your size. Your size is the most important fact about you. Did I get the story wrong? Maybe. But that's the story I heard. It's not that I thought other things didn't matter, it's just that they didn't matter as much as that.
I am great at dieting. Really, super great. I can loose a heap of weight. I can even help other people loose weight.
Just one catch.
Dieting doesn't work. And I mean that in a very specific way. I mean that dieting does not get me what I want.
What I want, firstly, is to love myself. Secondly, but equally important, I want to feel normal.
Dieting never does either of those things. Even when I lost 30 kilos. Even when I was 'in a healthy weight range'. Even when everyone I met commented on how good I looked (comparatively, of course). Even then, I did not love my body, and I did not feel normal.
So even then, dieting didn't work.
The only thing that has actually worked for me is not 'not dieting'. It's giving up dieting. When I said, at the start of the year, I will not diet this year. Not for one day. Not for one minute. I will not use any part of this year to diet.
That day, and every day after that, I felt normal. And almost every day after that I have loved my body.
This is why. Because I have disciplined myself to look in the mirror and ask a different question.
Since I was about 15, I have looked in the mirror pretty much every day. And each time I have asked one question. Do I look fat? Or maybe do I look thin?
That is the only question I have asked the mirror.
So I have been learning to ask different questions. To look in the mirror and ask, do I look good? Is my make up good? Do I like these earrings? Does this colour suit me? Do I like this dress with this cardi? Do I like these tights?
This is also why. I have disciplined myself to look at other women and ask a different question.
Since I was about 15 I have looked at other women and asked one question. Is she thinner than me? Or maybe is she fatter than me?
So I have been learning to ask different questions. Do I like her clothes? Do I like her hair? Is her make up nice? What is she doing? Is she happy? Would I wear that? Should she?
Doing these two things has changed me. I reject the lie that my weight is the most important fact about me. I reject the lie that being thin is the only way to be beautiful. I reject the lie that other women are more beautiful than me just because they are thinner than me. I reject the lie that dieting gets me what I want. I reject the lie that I cannot love myself even though I am not thin.
I have been dieting or "not dieting" since I was about 15. That was when I realized that I was not normal. Or that I was fat. Those things are pretty much equated in my mind.
Writing this blog makes me sad. I am sad for all the years I thought I was not good enough. I am sad for all the women who told me (implicitly or explicitly) that being fat meant I was not good enough.
All my life I believed the story that I was told. Every one told me the same story. If you are fat, then nothing about you matters as much as that. No matter how successful you are, or how good, or how smart, or how gifted or tender hearted or generous or loving, none of that is as important as your size. Your size is the most important fact about you. Did I get the story wrong? Maybe. But that's the story I heard. It's not that I thought other things didn't matter, it's just that they didn't matter as much as that.
I am great at dieting. Really, super great. I can loose a heap of weight. I can even help other people loose weight.
Just one catch.
Dieting doesn't work. And I mean that in a very specific way. I mean that dieting does not get me what I want.
What I want, firstly, is to love myself. Secondly, but equally important, I want to feel normal.
Dieting never does either of those things. Even when I lost 30 kilos. Even when I was 'in a healthy weight range'. Even when everyone I met commented on how good I looked (comparatively, of course). Even then, I did not love my body, and I did not feel normal.
So even then, dieting didn't work.
The only thing that has actually worked for me is not 'not dieting'. It's giving up dieting. When I said, at the start of the year, I will not diet this year. Not for one day. Not for one minute. I will not use any part of this year to diet.
That day, and every day after that, I felt normal. And almost every day after that I have loved my body.
This is why. Because I have disciplined myself to look in the mirror and ask a different question.
Since I was about 15, I have looked in the mirror pretty much every day. And each time I have asked one question. Do I look fat? Or maybe do I look thin?
That is the only question I have asked the mirror.
So I have been learning to ask different questions. To look in the mirror and ask, do I look good? Is my make up good? Do I like these earrings? Does this colour suit me? Do I like this dress with this cardi? Do I like these tights?
This is also why. I have disciplined myself to look at other women and ask a different question.
Since I was about 15 I have looked at other women and asked one question. Is she thinner than me? Or maybe is she fatter than me?
So I have been learning to ask different questions. Do I like her clothes? Do I like her hair? Is her make up nice? What is she doing? Is she happy? Would I wear that? Should she?
Doing these two things has changed me. I reject the lie that my weight is the most important fact about me. I reject the lie that being thin is the only way to be beautiful. I reject the lie that other women are more beautiful than me just because they are thinner than me. I reject the lie that dieting gets me what I want. I reject the lie that I cannot love myself even though I am not thin.
This is not everyone's story. This is just my story.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
the bazaar
oh yes, i went to a bazaar. no, not in turkey or some great place like that, but in lovely little ashfield. for those of you not of the sydney persuasion, ashfield is in the inner west. it's about 20 min from the cbd on the train, so it's pretty handy. about one third of the people who live in ashfield were not born in australia. and from my observations, i'd say they were mostly born in china. i say this because ashfield is home to about 1,000 chinese restaurants. and, if you know me well, you'll know this makes me happy.
so ashfield is not what you'd call a 'cool' suburb. it's no annandale. nope. it's no newton. it's right on the edge of the more western suburbs, if you catch my drift. which means, basically, that we can afford to live in a gorgeous art deco building on a really cute street with two bedrooms AND a study and a kitchen that's actually quite a decent size.
so ashfield doesn't have much street cred. but oh my word, i do so love it. i love living in close quarters to other people. for some reason, it works. the thing i never in a million years expected to find in sydney is quietness. my street is so quiet. no traffic sounds, no loud music, no noise really of any kind. except birthday parties. and i hear people walking down the street. and birds, my word they are noisy. so i live in the midst of a great big city but have found more quiet and peace than i've ever experienced. I walk home down the middle of my street. okay, this is because it's light there and so i can avoid cockroaches, but still.
i love how you get to peak into peoples lives all the time - i see people making dinner through the window, dads rocking their babies on the veranda, shoes lined up outside the doors, glimpses of parties, i see in the door when church is on at all the bowed heads.
i chat to my neighbours about the washing and the weather. we smile. after the earthquake they stopped me to ask if things were okay at home (how did they know i was from christchurch?).
there's a lady on the corner who waits for her husband holding her cute little baby. we smile and wave and her baby stares at me.
i pick flowers when i walk the streets. ashfield is full of art deco buildings and federation homes (think bay villa). full to the brim of beautiful architecture and old streets with tall leafy trees. i honestly don't know why it doesn't have the street cred, but i so hope it continues.
anyway, goodness me, the bazaar. there is an op shop i love but it only opens on thursdays. they practically give things away. today they had a bazaar. this is all run by the local baptist church, so far as i can tell. there was devonshire tea. i had the best scone in the world with jam and real cream. it was delicious but made me slightly depressed about my own scone efforts.
i also bought some really great bargins. some things didn't make the photo list. a cute little jug. an amazing early 1900s plate. a beautiful basket. two vintage scarves. All for the princely sum of $12.
And then there's the things that did make the photograph list.
so ashfield is not what you'd call a 'cool' suburb. it's no annandale. nope. it's no newton. it's right on the edge of the more western suburbs, if you catch my drift. which means, basically, that we can afford to live in a gorgeous art deco building on a really cute street with two bedrooms AND a study and a kitchen that's actually quite a decent size.
so ashfield doesn't have much street cred. but oh my word, i do so love it. i love living in close quarters to other people. for some reason, it works. the thing i never in a million years expected to find in sydney is quietness. my street is so quiet. no traffic sounds, no loud music, no noise really of any kind. except birthday parties. and i hear people walking down the street. and birds, my word they are noisy. so i live in the midst of a great big city but have found more quiet and peace than i've ever experienced. I walk home down the middle of my street. okay, this is because it's light there and so i can avoid cockroaches, but still.
i love how you get to peak into peoples lives all the time - i see people making dinner through the window, dads rocking their babies on the veranda, shoes lined up outside the doors, glimpses of parties, i see in the door when church is on at all the bowed heads.
i chat to my neighbours about the washing and the weather. we smile. after the earthquake they stopped me to ask if things were okay at home (how did they know i was from christchurch?).
there's a lady on the corner who waits for her husband holding her cute little baby. we smile and wave and her baby stares at me.
i pick flowers when i walk the streets. ashfield is full of art deco buildings and federation homes (think bay villa). full to the brim of beautiful architecture and old streets with tall leafy trees. i honestly don't know why it doesn't have the street cred, but i so hope it continues.
anyway, goodness me, the bazaar. there is an op shop i love but it only opens on thursdays. they practically give things away. today they had a bazaar. this is all run by the local baptist church, so far as i can tell. there was devonshire tea. i had the best scone in the world with jam and real cream. it was delicious but made me slightly depressed about my own scone efforts.
i also bought some really great bargins. some things didn't make the photo list. a cute little jug. an amazing early 1900s plate. a beautiful basket. two vintage scarves. All for the princely sum of $12.
And then there's the things that did make the photograph list.
only a bright yellow typewriter. the yellowest type writer in the land. in perfect condition. and i mean perfect.
and then just an old school desk to sit it on. it's so freaking beautiful.
look at it. oh my word.
and what, you ask, did these things cost me? $6. yes, for both.
so this is why i love ashfield. because it really is just so beautiful, but it really has no idea what it's worth. and i am taking full advantage.
finders keepers AND a bazaar
in one weekend! oh the humanity! my wallet is aching from the strain.
first, we went to finders keepers last night. it was utter insanity. in a really cool part of town near the uni - we walked down from redfern station through streets lined with terraces and big trees. i totally love it. it was beautiful and mild with a big moon and lots of people about. the venue was the Carriage Works which i'm guess is just about as self explanatory as you can get. they have restored it so well with lots of original machinery about the place.
it was jam packed with people. it was insanely over stimulating. the stalls were amazing with just the most beautiful things you can think of. but there were too many people and we had to take a break half way through and go and find dinner.
i could have bought something at every stall but we had a budget so i didn't. i love what i did get though.
first, we went to finders keepers last night. it was utter insanity. in a really cool part of town near the uni - we walked down from redfern station through streets lined with terraces and big trees. i totally love it. it was beautiful and mild with a big moon and lots of people about. the venue was the Carriage Works which i'm guess is just about as self explanatory as you can get. they have restored it so well with lots of original machinery about the place.
it was jam packed with people. it was insanely over stimulating. the stalls were amazing with just the most beautiful things you can think of. but there were too many people and we had to take a break half way through and go and find dinner.
i could have bought something at every stall but we had a budget so i didn't. i love what i did get though.
this amazing art work
outrageously gorgeous hand made dress
stunning brooch. honestly. i'm stunned.
I'll do another post tomorrow about the bazaar because i think those photos just need their own post. in other news - i'm doing great right now. love my job so much. really enjoying it at the moment. i get to do such a wide range of things and i really enjoy almost every part of it.
right. me and The Sumo are going to go for a walk as it is our favorite time of day - just before dusk. the light in ashfield is golden and it is just the right time to wander the streets and gaze at the beautiful homes. the other night when we did this we went past an old commercial building that was all closed up. but inside someone was playing piano. they were amazing. we just stood there and looked at each other. it was a moment.
i've also posted over here.
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