tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80615448378003747782024-03-19T09:06:13.275+00:00LuliLulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14762989434423603652noreply@blogger.comBlogger50125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8061544837800374778.post-45342052591014036412007-07-04T10:20:00.000+01:002007-07-04T10:44:50.604+01:00my top 5If anyone has seen High Fidelity, you will appreciate the importance of being able to list one's top 5. <br /><br />So here goes. The best 5 things that have happened to me so far:<br /><br />1. <strong>Driving through the Kalahari.</strong> Seated in the luxury of our rental car, this has to go down as one of the most memorable things I've ever done. To be in Africa and be able put in to perspective how incrementally small one's existence is amongst the vast plains of nothingness. Amazing.<br /><br />2. <strong>Walking Annapurna in Nepal.</strong> I used to smoke a pack of cigarettes a day, chased down with double espressos and polished off with a Vodka Martini in the evening. The fact that I did this, and didn't drop down dead of a heart attack is a testament to the power of my stubborn nature. All of my much more active friends were very proud (i.e. surprised) I made it. (First over the finish line too, I might add!) I also got one of my nicknames whilst I was there; Didi. It means big sister in Nepalese. I am choosing to believe that I was christened so due to being fairly tall and not because I look older than my years.<br /><br />3. <strong>Reading in my Nan's bedroom on a summer afternoon.</strong> I loved my grandmother with all that I am. She was beautiful, intelligent, feisty and a chocoholic. I spent hundreds of afternoons cuddled up with her in bed, watching the boats in the bay, munching on her chocolate supply and reading books. I will never, ever forget how safe and loved she made me feel.<br /><br />4. <strong>Ciggies and wine on the terrace with my friends</strong> I have astoundingly wonderful friends. Sitting outside, with great food, wine, company and an assortment of musical instruments is how I've spent many, many a night.<br /><br />5. <strong>Getting my heartbroken</strong> It's amazing how you can feel the happiest and the saddest at the same time.Lulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14762989434423603652noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8061544837800374778.post-61748829155850216202007-07-03T15:07:00.001+01:002007-07-03T15:19:22.054+01:00love and other catastrophesYou would not believe it if you read about it. Well, perhaps you would, but...I've been struck by a cold again. The second in a month. This displeases me greatly and I've spent the last few days holed up in bed feeling very sore and sorry for myself. I am hoping that I am on the mend.<br /><br />Well, I've been back in Australia for a little over a month. That actually astounds me. It seems as though a lifetime has passed over the last few weeks and I'm still in a little bit of a daze. I'm still in Brisvegas and whilst the original plan was to head back down to Sydney, now I'm not so sure. I have absolutely no idea what my plans are and that actually feels great. I'm doing some temp work with the Environmental Protection Agency to earn some cash, I'm hanging out with my friends and generally cavorting about town. <br /><br />M & I have spoken twice over the last ten days. In the years we have been together, we had never previously gone longer than a day or two without speaking. I don't know what is happening to us. I know I'm getting stronger now, and I feel a little like I'm emerging from a cacoon that I created for myself whilst wrapped in my relationship. It feels good to have myself back. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoZJdsz0spkDct-qrHMv8ZTCo975Z-BMukzuNeSR4pnsleJbDhCwLj76xoJ9uqjdyaqHk14ZlDeoIzpLcWbte8X143ljUE5v0_KT8KUnyMfh28unKXOU4TiYc-XeqZEutIfl48RL5f7_ag/s1600-h/english_patient_ver2%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoZJdsz0spkDct-qrHMv8ZTCo975Z-BMukzuNeSR4pnsleJbDhCwLj76xoJ9uqjdyaqHk14ZlDeoIzpLcWbte8X143ljUE5v0_KT8KUnyMfh28unKXOU4TiYc-XeqZEutIfl48RL5f7_ag/s320/english_patient_ver2%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082973984874136162" /></a><br /><br />Of course, I would not be me if I did not have some wild romantic fantasy going on and here is my latest. To quote the lovely Miss Apple, I'm "far too in love with inappropriate men to function"*Lulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14762989434423603652noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8061544837800374778.post-5395863452894358502007-07-02T13:39:00.000+01:002007-07-02T14:06:40.332+01:00ten things i hate about you...Delivered with some considerable delay, my first ever meme: <br /><br />1. <strong>Emos. </strong> <br /><br />I have posted on this before. I can't even stand the word, let alone the purported persona that is attached to these people. Yes, life is shit somtimes. Yes, the facists have fucked us all. But for god's sake, pull yourself together and get a bloody job. <br /><br />2. <strong>Public Spitters.</strong><br /><br />I know most probably dislike this, but I find it utterly repulsive<br /><br /><br />3. <strong>Stupid Questions.</strong><br /><br />I have wonderful, fantastic & beautiful friends from all walks of life. For this fact I'm incredibly grateful. However, the other night at dinner when I was discussing the work that I had done with indigneous people in Africa, someone asked me: "No, but tell me, seriously...were you tempted to buy the diamonds?". <br /><br />Oh, well of course, I only do the social justice stuff in order to ease my conscience when the light catches my latest 5 carat purchase. <br /><br />4. <strong>Out of control binge drinkers.</strong><br /><br />No. I don't want to see your tits.<br /><br />Yes. Running in to that hedge that covers a wrought iron fence is going to hurt.<br /><br />5. <strong>Inconsiderate Cyclists.</strong><br /><br />Saving the environment: good. Running down innocent bystanders at pedestrian crossings: bad.<br /><br />6. <strong>Accent shifts.</strong><br /><br />I have the most disturbing accent ever at the moment. I really hate it. I'm watching neighbours repeats to try and flush out my weird Australian/Southern England/Mancunian mess. <br /><br />7. <strong>Liberal Party Campaigners</strong><br /><br />I was driving the other day and there were these two young blokes decked out in full party costuming (hats, caps, flags) waving at motorists, trying to drum up support. Has my homeland morphed in to the United States while I've been gone?<br /><br />8. <strong>Bitchiness</strong><br /><br />Don't get me wrong, I like a good natter over a nice cup of tea. Tearing someone to shreds for something to do? Not cool.<br /><br />9. <strong>Racists.</strong><br /><br />My heart goes out to the family of <a href="http://by135w.bay135.mail.live.com/mail/ApplicationMain_11.10.0000.0112.aspx?culture=en-GB&hash=2947728478#">Murrinyi Domadagee</a>.<br /><br />10. <strong>Career Public Servants.</strong><br /><br />Don't get me one my sister works for the Art Gallery which is a government run body, but god, the attitude of some of these people is incredible. Their notion of work? Even more astounding. <br /><br />If anyone is still reading this...I tag Frog, Cowboy, Chloe, Julia & Danielle.Lulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14762989434423603652noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8061544837800374778.post-37404230173577093312007-06-22T15:25:00.000+01:002007-06-22T15:28:27.289+01:00drunkI am drunk. I've also been neglecting my blog. <br /><br />A lot has happened over the last few weeks but I am far too drunk to articulate. Will do so soon.Lulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14762989434423603652noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8061544837800374778.post-69127753946189034522007-06-05T15:04:00.000+01:002007-06-05T15:28:00.217+01:00fear and loathing in bris vegasI will start this post with an apology as I do not seem to be able to write with any degree of clarity at the moment..brief snippets below.<br /><br />1. I am pleased to report that my self medication and a diet of tea and cigarettes has rocketed me back in to good health.<br /><br /><br />2. I arrived back in Australia a little over a week ago, and whilst the jet lag has now well and truly subsided, my cultural re-assimilation process is still ongoing. <br /><br /><br />3. My Aunt died last Saturday and so things have been a little emotional for the last few days. I am looking after my 15 year old cousin this week who had flown up to spend time with my sister and I. <br /><br /><br />4. I have not lived with my family in 15 years. Being back in the "family fold" is really a very strange feeling. I feel like I have momentarily regressed to a 13 year old who is sitting in my bedroom with the Britney Spears gem "I'm not a girl, not yet a woman", blaring through my boombox. <br /><br /><br />5. I really dislike Britney Spears.<br /><br /><br />6. When I was at Sydney Airport, the police officer patrolling the terminal was resting his bottle of evian on his gun holster. (Australia is so relaxed that we'd offer you a drink of water before wielding our weapons upon you. Unless your in Melbourne - they're a little more trigger happy down there).<br /><br />7. If the Prime Minister of Australia gets voted in again at this year's federal election, I will NEVER reside in this country again. <br /><br /><br />8. Emotionally, I am still a bit all over the place at the moment, but I am feeling a lot more zen than I have in a while. <br /><br />9. I've decided that I am going to go back to Uni and study French and Poltical Science via distance education. That way I can still do my law talkin thing, but I am furthering my education in things that I feel passionately about, too.<br /><br />10. That's about it for now.Lulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14762989434423603652noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8061544837800374778.post-30550247867588406372007-05-24T22:43:00.001+01:002007-05-24T22:59:24.077+01:00hong kong nights<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsaeprZ8r4QwlcWErd6YwZgaVRcXpeWPcpO-Nzih0hG_TcNQOYv0oY5Ew-v6-3A1uwXUNmZoFVH2w6xvPavPiKHTIqOJDiH8LrJ973opKT-0YaAfVrntm5WYfLFkZlZo2zkx9g31m9RZM3/s1600-h/Hong+Kong+011.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068246298975117138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsaeprZ8r4QwlcWErd6YwZgaVRcXpeWPcpO-Nzih0hG_TcNQOYv0oY5Ew-v6-3A1uwXUNmZoFVH2w6xvPavPiKHTIqOJDiH8LrJ973opKT-0YaAfVrntm5WYfLFkZlZo2zkx9g31m9RZM3/s320/Hong+Kong+011.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Well, after a reasonably pleasant flight (considering I'm feeling horrendous with the flu), I've touched down in Hong Kong. It is absolutely boiling here, 32 degrees and 95% humidity.<br /><br />It's now 5.50am Hong Kong time and I can't sleep. Forgive my disjointed sentences and poor prose, but what's a girl with the flu and a weird time zone induced delirium to do?<br /><br />Last night, (I had to think for a minute, but yes, it was last night HK time) I wandered around the night markets of Kowloon and sampled the delicous street food. On my way back to the hotel I discovered a small pharmacy and it struck me that I best get some antibiotics to prevent this flu from turning in to a chest infection, which tends to happen when I get these things.<br /><br />In my younger days, Asian pharmacies that dispensed drugs with abandon would send my heart soaring with joy! These over the counter goodies were bought with glee in Bangkok, Kathmandu, Delhi and various other Asian locales. However, it is a sign that I'm aging that when I got back to the hotel this evening, I sat myself at the computer and researched the brand name of the tablets of wellness that I was given and wondered if it was really a good idea. In the end, I decided, like the old saying goes, "whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger".<br /><br />Onwards and upwards.Lulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14762989434423603652noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8061544837800374778.post-73462251261471868522007-05-22T14:06:00.000+01:002007-05-22T14:18:34.678+01:00Ce n'est pas possibleAhh, I have a fucking cold! This is hardly what I need when I am about to embark on a 24 hour flight. Well, I do have an overnight stop in Hong Kong, but still. Yuk.<br /><br />M is behaving like a twat. Sigh. <br /><br />On to a more positive subject. I am in love with this <a href="http://frogwithablog.wordpress.com/">man</a>. <br /><br />See below, for French cultural instruction classes.<br /><br /><div><object width="425" height="335"><param name="movie" value="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/1Cp0gfnT6O0yqdCdq"></param><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/1Cp0gfnT6O0yqdCdq" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="335" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object><br /><b><a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x1xjzk_final-customer-service">Final customer service</a></b><br /><i>Uploaded by <a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/mickelino">mickelino</a></i></div>Lulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14762989434423603652noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8061544837800374778.post-22929015084841245782007-05-20T22:57:00.000+01:002007-05-20T23:03:55.803+01:00homeward bound...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDaOWKygk4QSnA0bPgzIwMtItrWVwBqfhSUiQiZgaf9o5jAqp9GdO05stYc9cfK98LYS4e-YbGwy8s0ft5tHXtgJ95tewc7_L3Q6_Tn8m4FibA20hUmJYkwR6GCPXevJHcQkIhpBX4nzY6/s1600-h/photo_lg_sydney%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDaOWKygk4QSnA0bPgzIwMtItrWVwBqfhSUiQiZgaf9o5jAqp9GdO05stYc9cfK98LYS4e-YbGwy8s0ft5tHXtgJ95tewc7_L3Q6_Tn8m4FibA20hUmJYkwR6GCPXevJHcQkIhpBX4nzY6/s320/photo_lg_sydney%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066765471560867650" /></a><br /><br />I've cashed in the frequent flyers, booked my flight, and will be back in Sydney on Wednesday morning. <br /><br />I'm going home for 3 months to get my visa organised and earn some money.<br /><br />Viva Australia.<br /><br /><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowScriptAccess="always" width="180" height="23" bgcolor="#ECECEC" id="radioblog_player_0" FlashVars="id=0&filepath=http%3A%2F%2Fparicilemail.free.fr%2Fradio.blog%2Fsounds%2FBadly%20Drawn%20Boy%20-%20Silent%20Sigh.rbs&colors=body:#ECECEC;border:#BBBBBB;button:#999999;player_text:#999999;playlist_text:#999999;"></embed>Lulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14762989434423603652noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8061544837800374778.post-21944038900094043482007-05-19T04:15:00.000+01:002007-05-19T04:23:17.556+01:004am (god bless european summer time)I love the fact that I've been out all night dancing and can walk home at 4am and the birds are singing. The daylight is creeping up upon me and I'm welcoming back sobriety with a nice cup of tea by the window. There are only a few months of the year that you can enjoy this in London, and when you can...tis' great, it is. <br /><br />I had such a great night. I went to a friend's 30th, someone who i'd not seen in years. I danced all night on the King's Road, in a horrible bar, filled with pretentious sloany wankers, but I had my friends around me and we danced and drank and feasted on a late night curry. <br /><br />Due to aforesaid wankers in Chelsea, felt the need to start a socialist/class warrior/don't crack on to me you wanker revolution on the bus home. It sounds a lot more dramatic than it was. Really.<br /><br />All in all, a fab, fab, fab night. I needed that.Lulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14762989434423603652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8061544837800374778.post-75421416013932042212007-05-18T13:11:00.000+01:002007-05-18T13:15:32.742+01:00last musical post of the day...Last song of the day, but I love Israel Kamakawiwo'ole's fusion of Somewhere Over the Rainbow/It's a Wonderful World.<br /><br />Enjoy.<br /><br /><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowScriptAccess="always" width="180" height="23" bgcolor="#ECECEC" id="radioblog_player_0" FlashVars="id=0&filepath=http%3A%2F%2Fdiz1337.free.fr%2Fradio.blog%2Fsounds%2FBrother%20Iz%20-%20Somewhere%20over%20the%20rainbow.rbs&colors=body:#ECECEC;border:#BBBBBB;button:#999999;player_text:#999999;playlist_text:#999999;"></embed>Lulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14762989434423603652noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8061544837800374778.post-28514916448620268122007-05-18T12:52:00.000+01:002007-05-18T12:56:42.403+01:00chemical brothers feat beth ortonI am in love with www.radioblogclub.com.<br /><br />I've only seen two concerts in my life. Beth Orton and Beck. Both of which were amazing. However,given that music is one of the central pillars of my existance, and I'm a wanna be guitarist, it's a bit of a piss poor effort really.<br /><br /><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowScriptAccess="always" width="180" height="23" bgcolor="#ECECEC" id="radioblog_player_0" FlashVars="id=0&filepath=http%3A%2F%2Fluminouw.free.fr%2Fradio.blog%2Fsounds%2FChemical%20Brothers%20featuring%20Beth%20Orton%20-%20Where%20Do%20I%20Begin.rbs&colors=body:#ECECEC;border:#BBBBBB;button:#999999;player_text:#999999;playlist_text:#999999;"></embed><br /><br />Ooh, I forgot, I saw the Brazilian diva, Ivete Sangalo, last year. So that's 3 then.Lulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14762989434423603652noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8061544837800374778.post-54141670866048328012007-05-18T12:35:00.000+01:002007-05-18T12:37:42.342+01:00feistI adore this song, I keep bounding about the house to it.<br /><br /><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowScriptAccess="always" width="180" height="23" bgcolor="#ECECEC" id="radioblog_player_0" FlashVars="id=0&filepath=http%3A%2F%2Fsupergrand.twinbabyoracles.com%2Fradio.blog%2Fsounds%2FFeist%20-%20I%20Feel%20It%20All.rbs&colors=body:#ECECEC;border:#BBBBBB;button:#999999;player_text:#999999;playlist_text:#999999;"></embed>Lulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14762989434423603652noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8061544837800374778.post-38759739656871218832007-05-17T22:42:00.000+01:002007-05-17T22:51:46.067+01:00a poem, is a poem, is a poem<strong>The Art of Poetry - Jorge Luis Borges</strong><br /><br /><em>To gaze at a river made of time and water<br />And remember Time is another river.<br />To know we stray like a river<br />and our faces vanish like water.<br /><br />To feel that waking is another dream<br />that dreams of not dreaming and that the death<br />we fear in our bones is the death<br />that every night we call a dream.<br /><br />To see in every day and year a symbol<br />of all the days of man and his years,<br />and convert the outrage of the years<br />into a music, a sound, and a symbol.<br /><br />To see in death a dream, in the sunset<br />a golden sadness--such is poetry,<br />humble and immortal, poetry,<br />returning, like dawn and the sunset.<br /><br />Sometimes at evening there's a face<br />that sees us from the deeps of a mirror.<br />Art must be that sort of mirror,<br />disclosing to each of us his face.<br /><br />They say Ulysses, wearied of wonders,<br />wept with love on seeing Ithaca,<br />humble and green. Art is that Ithaca,<br />a green eternity, not wonders.<br /><br />Art is endless like a river flowing,<br />passing, yet remaining, a mirror to the same<br />inconstant Heraclitus, who is the same<br />and yet another, like the river flowing. </em><br /><br /><br />In memory of <a href="http://audreyapple.blogspot.com">Audrey's </a>Mum.Lulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14762989434423603652noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8061544837800374778.post-24028372023795446062007-05-16T00:46:00.000+01:002007-05-16T01:19:38.645+01:00kickin' arseAfter re-reading my last few posts I've been, quite literally, squirming in my chair. Whilst said posts were complete stream of consciousness ramblings, and I do want to write as honestly as I can about how I am feeling...yuk, it just made me feel self indulgent and melancholy. I wonder though, is it just because I fear that people will judge me that way, that I worry? Is that last sentence just an incredibly bad attempt to seek reassurance from those who read my little ol' blog? Do I think too much about things that really don't bear thinking about? Did Lily Allen really feel hurt by footballer's wife extroadinaire, Cheryl Tweedy's comments about her? Is it wrong to wonder about Lily Allen's state of mind? <br /><br />Plus, when I look back at the sort of person I was when I was 28, I definitely want to think I was much more kick arse than falling prey to a fractured heart! <br /><br />Oh, weird side thought, could we all re-write our own histories before they even happen? I know some stoner conspiracy theorists that would love to hypothesise that one. <br /><br />Anyway, a bit of a rubbish day, but hey, we all have them. M is behaving like a royal prick towards me and I'm tired & sad. I have all but made up my mind that it is time to go home and get myself in to a more happy and positive state of mind. <br /><br />If I am being really honest with myself, the writing has been on the wall for a really long time. He is not very nice to me. And, as much as I like to think that I'm stronger than to fall prey to my past, right now, that is exactly what I'm doing. My mother once said to me, "Your grandmother sat at the kitchen table every night wondering why your grandfather wanted to drink more than be with her, as did I with your father, don't let the same thing happen to you". Who know's, maybe at some point in the future he'll be different, but right now, that doesn't matter. <br /><br />I'm going to be kick arse. <br /><br />The road to being kick arse requires some respite in the form of sitting on the sofa watching some <a href="http://www.channel4.com/health/microsites/V/virgins/school.html">bad tv</a>. This evening's bad tv came in the form of Channel 4's, "Virgin School". Yes, it followed one man's journey to sexual emancipation with the help of an intimacy clinic in Amsterdam. I don't believe in censorship, and the program was interesting in a strange way, but that poor bastard is going to be completely bollocked by the less sensitive men and women of the British public, and that ain't cool.Lulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14762989434423603652noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8061544837800374778.post-9071929175050515512007-05-13T23:47:00.000+01:002007-05-14T00:08:32.763+01:00and the band goes marching on...It's a funny old world isn't it? <br /><br />I posted yesterday about my relationship woes. When things start to go wrong, it's natural to start to think about the sort of life that you will start to carve out for yourself next. With the possibility that M and I will be no longer, I feel uneasy about the choices that lay ahead. <br /><br />The sensible part of me knows that I could (and in all likelihood, would) go back home and create a lovely life for myself. I've never had any problem with finding employment, I have wonderful friends and adore the Australian lifestyle. The romantic and irrational side of me tells me that it would hurt like hell to be back home, so far away from the man I thought I'd spend the rest of my life with and under these circumstances. How can I leave our home of the last few years, head to airport and say goodbye forever? I feel like I've said so many goodbyes in my life that I simply can't imagine having to say another. Not like this. <br /><br />Back to the sensible side: I detest that I sound like someone whose romantic life is the sole focus of my existence. <br /><br />I bet I'll be bouncing off the walls happy tomorrow. Bloody typical.Lulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14762989434423603652noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8061544837800374778.post-87910041206652150202007-05-12T23:34:00.000+01:002007-05-12T23:50:22.956+01:00daydream believerIt's late Saturday night, and after another rainy day, I'm wrapped up and cosy on the sofa with <a href="http://parkinson.itv.com/">Parky's</a> familar manner comforting me through through the satellite transmission.<br /><br />I fear that my relationship is collapsing around me. I don't really feel ready to write much more than that at the moment other than to say that I'm okay.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikVe42To00wHRu9Fx4ZPuS1E6i8DRH1oO1DPMI5_HQ8zeTji2gwdxPFBpdrDIuaFp0_-aePIz1qkPjb44tYuOvgaprbNG1IMcdCy6jre6mg3JOViU3dn_nM9hBdRBDopHPjEtYifZ0eWCh/s1600-h/wgella%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikVe42To00wHRu9Fx4ZPuS1E6i8DRH1oO1DPMI5_HQ8zeTji2gwdxPFBpdrDIuaFp0_-aePIz1qkPjb44tYuOvgaprbNG1IMcdCy6jre6mg3JOViU3dn_nM9hBdRBDopHPjEtYifZ0eWCh/s320/wgella%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063810176617001746" /></a><br /><br />Luckily for me, I can escape to my imagination when times get a little tough. Yesterday whilst listening to my ipod on the way to meet friends, the lush tones of Ella Fitzgerald transported me to a smokey bar, with an Ella like figure seranading the crowd from the stage. I would be wearing a figure hugging, floor length satin dress with my hair swept up and deep red lipstick. As I sip my champagne and smoke a cigarette, I'm gently disturbed from my reverie to be led to the dance floor. The music sweeps over me and I spend the rest of the evening being held tight in the arms of a man who loves me.Lulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14762989434423603652noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8061544837800374778.post-65630585961156707932007-05-11T16:59:00.000+01:002007-05-11T17:13:25.007+01:00my baby sister and meMy baby sister, who is not such a baby anymore (she's 26), is getting married. <br /><br />Lauren is one of the sweetest people to have ever graced the planet. She is kind, open and simply the best sister a girl could ask for.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Ygc8rNYWq02h_CzDMPE-Md2sDZgFTizAXYtHMHnaIDyGEuSaY4gzZxr1mcmc8UbKFDkKa1iRhgGWSkO3AdNEEkgk-YcYU9idd24Pysoj5H0jW0Pp_sTniNhLuIf46sSePpVZB81Xmtan/s1600-h/IMG_7554.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Ygc8rNYWq02h_CzDMPE-Md2sDZgFTizAXYtHMHnaIDyGEuSaY4gzZxr1mcmc8UbKFDkKa1iRhgGWSkO3AdNEEkgk-YcYU9idd24Pysoj5H0jW0Pp_sTniNhLuIf46sSePpVZB81Xmtan/s320/IMG_7554.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063333899103613698" /></a><br /><br />Her wedding, which is to take place in September, will be a simple and intimate affair. Well, as simple as it can be with 7 step siblings, my mother's three ex husbands, my father, step mother and various other family members in attendance!<br /><br />Despite all that, I can't wait. It will be a day time ceremony and reception (in an effort to keep the relies sober) and will take place in a beautiful garden and pavillion in the Sunshine Coast Hinterland. <br /><br />A resourceful young thing, she's having a co-worker at the gallery where she works design her invitations and she has found a beautiful 1950's style, floor length Morrissey dress in off-white which she picked up for the bargain price of $250! <br /><br />So now my search begins. I have to find a dress.Lulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14762989434423603652noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8061544837800374778.post-49455773698728298462007-05-10T11:42:00.000+01:002007-05-10T12:23:50.348+01:00the magic faraway tree and how patrick swayze ruined my lifeAn odd heading? Perhaps.<br /><br />As the years have passsed and I have meandered down the long path to adulthood, I've held on to a few things along the way. Yes, at 28 years of age, I still believe in fairytales. I like simplicity of the notion that good and evil are clearly defined and that the baddies always lose. Using this logic, it makes sense that one's lot in life will determined by whether or not you share your fairy bread and with how much fervour you can sing "sticks and stones may break my bones..." and <span style="font-style:italic;">really </span> mean it. <br /><br />Unfortunately, age and experience have exposed the harsh reality that the good guys do not always win, no matter how nice you are or how high above sea level you are perched on your moral ground. On the other hand, the changing lands of The Magic Faraway Tree, to me, seem reminicsent of travel. You can climb the tree (see. plane) and land in an ever changing land. Although, you don't get pissed on your way up the tree and I don't remember any reference to jetlag, spending beyond what you earn or struggling with a foreign language. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj38Mbz4lEKSRsi7z2YVG7Oay2AdnRp1g6Oxy5A53ihxlIH8E5wKcLCeORbEDaH0ivH4rzIU-Gu2n6Ei9nAJC_AdwIsVXtP3Pi-uHlTPKWPdL85q_1voDTANxN_oxAULInWdpmhM0z3wiVN/s1600-h/tree1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj38Mbz4lEKSRsi7z2YVG7Oay2AdnRp1g6Oxy5A53ihxlIH8E5wKcLCeORbEDaH0ivH4rzIU-Gu2n6Ei9nAJC_AdwIsVXtP3Pi-uHlTPKWPdL85q_1voDTANxN_oxAULInWdpmhM0z3wiVN/s320/tree1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062887987009008338" /></a><br /><br />Anyway, the point is, I still believe!<br /><br />Moving swiftly on to matters of the heart. It's true. Patrick Swayze ruined my life.<br /><br />You see, due to inadequate parental supervision and lack of a stable male figure in my life, I learnt to define the roles of relationships from things other than family. That's right. The measuring stick of a proper, functioning relationship for me was that of Johnny & Baby in Dirty Dancing. I thought his bad temper, slick moves and soft on the inside centre were the epitomy of what a man should be. "Nobody puts baby in a corner". Damn right. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiedbC8ZULEVNyzdzXfRhJqNoyV20pBKWS6QCfirTYrKb9Kh7rbrEd8J9Z_o4y71Ra6cBGv5OEznJQObt-sAUm9GYPofjOcYsM8F0YLTT94waZo_sjWMmO5wxngzFQduGA4XyuEhymufWDL/s1600-h/200617_167654_2_024.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiedbC8ZULEVNyzdzXfRhJqNoyV20pBKWS6QCfirTYrKb9Kh7rbrEd8J9Z_o4y71Ra6cBGv5OEznJQObt-sAUm9GYPofjOcYsM8F0YLTT94waZo_sjWMmO5wxngzFQduGA4XyuEhymufWDL/s320/200617_167654_2_024.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062888395030901474" /></a><br /><br /><br />Of course, this has led to all sorts of romantic disasters. Briefly, Man 1: After 5 years together I decided he was in fact <span style="font-style:italic;">too</span> nice and a little bit boring. Man 2: He was a little more Patrick Swayze like. Nearly 20 years older than me and a worldly and successful entrepreneur we enjoyed a fairytale start to our romance. Unfortunately, my romanatic illusions would come back to bite me on the arse 18 months later when he revealed himself as an alcoholic who would rather stare at his own reflection than engage in any form of conversation. <br /><br />Lastly, and by no means least, my current love M. Who told me last week, that it would be interesting when we had children because they would have his bad temper and my one big eye.* Awww. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBdkrtFKzEqy8VkB7okbjZszmyIgj85GPDaEq-zLHm_zXzcx5LnBuHnv1LkBUgkNDQcYdMcLbWURZfzgrbN9UmbAeEz7XS4Ax35G1q-40Qb7Fu5cDXS8VeLh75qdT48AoZrBNRTdBlPNEV/s1600-h/IMG_7545.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBdkrtFKzEqy8VkB7okbjZszmyIgj85GPDaEq-zLHm_zXzcx5LnBuHnv1LkBUgkNDQcYdMcLbWURZfzgrbN9UmbAeEz7XS4Ax35G1q-40Qb7Fu5cDXS8VeLh75qdT48AoZrBNRTdBlPNEV/s320/IMG_7545.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062888979146453746" /></a><br /><br />All this leaves me undeterred. <br /><br />I'll still keep building my castles in the sky. Patrick Swayze or not.<br /><br /><br />*<span style="font-style:italic;"></span> I don't mean to come across all "thou does protest a little too loudly" but my eye is really not that much bigger in real life. It's just a weird angle or something!! Oh, also, my hair has not been that blonde for a very long time.Lulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14762989434423603652noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8061544837800374778.post-77051611619134849002007-05-08T13:55:00.000+01:002007-05-08T14:04:31.763+01:00strengthThe people that I have stumbled upon in this weird world of blogging are truly amazing. <br /><br />Last night, I stumbled across the latest post of <a href="http://audreyapple.blogspot.com">Audrey</a>, a talented young writer from Australia. I cannot adequately form the words to express how her post moved me. Her ability to write so candidly about what is without a doubt one of the hardest things anyone could go through, is astonishing.<br /><br />I don't have a god that I pray to, but if I did, I'd pray for her. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAVFVpMCu-jvP8dvZvZp_6cCU946LB5V2S85QV2DEaFXs5qwIn3-JrhVHDVdu3qpd6Zy3d190UUj3ed9IfnZ44Rlg7u2_QEuEFfqye3OMRHkE4agk8hzBtzcJ7-bTgiWP3Jp9chTcjlIoh/s1600-h/70050456a%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAVFVpMCu-jvP8dvZvZp_6cCU946LB5V2S85QV2DEaFXs5qwIn3-JrhVHDVdu3qpd6Zy3d190UUj3ed9IfnZ44Rlg7u2_QEuEFfqye3OMRHkE4agk8hzBtzcJ7-bTgiWP3Jp9chTcjlIoh/s320/70050456a%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062174223573955266" /></a>Lulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14762989434423603652noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8061544837800374778.post-76288581092731384942007-05-07T08:37:00.000+01:002007-05-07T09:01:45.266+01:00home is where the ..... is?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh94ncP8_hOexz_SMeuovgrMY-G6XJxXMH3FDhyPY-dhsJc4rJRbqvPb_HUVz4VzqlBP9-XDVcHK__CwXo48UxpIw-604nk8nfLM2KXvsHQ6BZZpFyb_1qR1PMLGnVZdOMKd6ZX2JjjuQWo/s1600-h/70046561a%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh94ncP8_hOexz_SMeuovgrMY-G6XJxXMH3FDhyPY-dhsJc4rJRbqvPb_HUVz4VzqlBP9-XDVcHK__CwXo48UxpIw-604nk8nfLM2KXvsHQ6BZZpFyb_1qR1PMLGnVZdOMKd6ZX2JjjuQWo/s320/70046561a%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061720245530768050" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNUdvPsoC7d6dldHoWoDlyX9wga376bbawniYC14XNRO7Yz2YB7_cvbKqTbvbf8m8mUjqyrXq8ha1mr4QY2Zoy-JFjNXkZdQQlmPe6Cn4JNWewcg3kgMYrZanbOsjHBCyHAvRs9dQmB1gA/s1600-h/70046670a%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNUdvPsoC7d6dldHoWoDlyX9wga376bbawniYC14XNRO7Yz2YB7_cvbKqTbvbf8m8mUjqyrXq8ha1mr4QY2Zoy-JFjNXkZdQQlmPe6Cn4JNWewcg3kgMYrZanbOsjHBCyHAvRs9dQmB1gA/s320/70046670a%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061720155336454818" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf_75XeVT-uQN5oHJd4iTfcTEm_tOdklIA8GE8yFt6mTggbrJQz9syzmx1MvyEDs8-vGlfOED1-Pa7lX40hPcHRrTUm24MWcBJetF_-QuZPM8M_aA8Smkm4kQC0TG9R0XxG2pIhzmrJgZ1/s1600-h/70058755a%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf_75XeVT-uQN5oHJd4iTfcTEm_tOdklIA8GE8yFt6mTggbrJQz9syzmx1MvyEDs8-vGlfOED1-Pa7lX40hPcHRrTUm24MWcBJetF_-QuZPM8M_aA8Smkm4kQC0TG9R0XxG2pIhzmrJgZ1/s320/70058755a%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061720078027043474" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7VyOKGPBiOe5K0ARwWSubMYwOEESwloWKobT0xZO3TFCZx1vV4rpQcuKuXncIw2Oy_bv5QD0UQNaE08l50xL5eZui47f7koXoUDcTdeeyZ9fisxeN39S06RLEpGi1o1PT4HCKmnhLSeLA/s1600-h/70046561a%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7VyOKGPBiOe5K0ARwWSubMYwOEESwloWKobT0xZO3TFCZx1vV4rpQcuKuXncIw2Oy_bv5QD0UQNaE08l50xL5eZui47f7koXoUDcTdeeyZ9fisxeN39S06RLEpGi1o1PT4HCKmnhLSeLA/s320/70046561a%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061719996422664834" /></a><br /><br />I guess after a few days of reflecting on bits of my past, it's only naturally to think a little about where my future is heading. I have been carrying around a feeling of being slightly unsettled for a few weeks and am fighting my instincts to look for greener pastures. Experience dictates that the grass is not greener on the other side, it's usually just a trick with the lighting.<br /><br />I've lived in London for four years. I have a love/hate relationship with this town. It's exciting, alive and constantly challenges you. Sometimes though, I just want somewhere a little more, I don't know...relaxed. Paris, another big city, does not ever make me feel as anxious as London can. It's hard to be able to put the words together without seeming unnecessarily harsh toward my adopted city or overly idealistic about it's French cousin. <br /><br />Plus, if home is where the heart is, then how do I leave here anyway? Tis funny. I love M. With all of my heart I do. However, he struggles with understanding the insecurities that I battle with from time to time and this worries me. I don't believe that anyone else will give me comfort within myself, but, by the same taken, I can't be something that I'm not. <br /><br />I'm not always this neurotic. I promise! <br /><br />So what do I feel like doing today? I feel like moving to New York, or moving back home to Sydney to set up my own little nest, or driving through the United States with no fixed plan (although trying all sorts of pies at roadside diners in the day and eating at places called "The Lobster Hut" during the evening would be necessary), or lastly, sitting in one of my favourite cafes in Oberkampf and watching the gray drizzly day turn to night.Lulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14762989434423603652noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8061544837800374778.post-65324165262586489432007-05-05T23:20:00.000+01:002007-05-05T23:26:24.224+01:00melodies for a new dayAfter feeling a touch melancholic the last few days, today provided some respite. A good night sleep and a long walk allowed me to clear my head and music has always been my constant companion. <br /><br />A bubble bath and my book will round today off for me. Quiet and calm is just what I need to bring me back to my sunny self. <br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/MyuL1z2tejs"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/MyuL1z2tejs" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object><br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ac_87o0UWUg"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ac_87o0UWUg" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object>Lulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14762989434423603652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8061544837800374778.post-72782572833399763882007-05-04T20:35:00.000+01:002007-05-04T21:39:55.448+01:00is there a road out of here?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6fYMXqGWp3X7lD7WApsGm8wIeokWxraNNnKukOdVFaONA-VL2gp5qSLbkHRGHTvRf9Wjnht0FS3J7ZBOJWrAU2ZiVnCaOy__uxRJXveocg9CKq0L7MRdKFzobXgRHBW7SvvuombT3QBl7/s1600-h/70058130a%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6fYMXqGWp3X7lD7WApsGm8wIeokWxraNNnKukOdVFaONA-VL2gp5qSLbkHRGHTvRf9Wjnht0FS3J7ZBOJWrAU2ZiVnCaOy__uxRJXveocg9CKq0L7MRdKFzobXgRHBW7SvvuombT3QBl7/s320/70058130a%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060791574817124962" /></a><br /><br /><br />It's been one of those days. Ordinarily, I'm not one to quote lines from American movies, however, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DxTUhfHBMEQ">"I'm just a fucked up girl looking for my own piece of mind",</a> is how I'm feeling today. <br /><br />I sometimes wish that I could crawl out of my own head. I constantly analyse everything and panic that things are going to go wrong. Growing up with alcoholic parents, being on the street at 14 and an abusive and violent stepfather all wrapped up against a backdrop of middle class suburbia can do that to a girl I suppose. It's funny. Sort of. <br /><br />When I first left home, I felt so streetwise. I moved in with a foreign exchange student from my school who lived with his brother, also an exchange student, who was attending University. It was the summer holidays, I was just about to turn 15 and I thought that I had the world under control. The brother's girlfriend,I'll call her Jane, a blonde of perhaps 21 or 22 took me under her wing and made sure that I ate properly and was okay. <br /><br />A week or so later, I woke up to find Jane screaming on the driveway. Her boyfriend had beat her and she was dragging her stuff to her car. She grabbed me and off we went in her red convertible sports car. She rented a two bedroom serviced apartment in the City and told me that I should stay with her until I was on my feet. On one condition, I would need to be out during the evening as she would be working from home. That posed no problem to me. It was summer, I'd discovered the joys of passionpop and had appropriated a fake id. Unfortunately, after a particularly heavy evening on vodka, I managed to drink just enough to give me alcohol poisoning. There would be no going out for me for a few days. In fact I could barely manage to leave my room. Late in the evening, I craved water and stumbled out toward teh kitchen. Standing there, in the middle of the hall were two men and Jane. Naked. <br /><br />She was a prostitute and I had <em>absolutely</em> no idea, I was so naive. I grew up quite a lot that day. (Not in the participation sense of learning I might add).<br /><br />Now, don't get me wrong, I don't feel sorry for myself. I've gone to university, travelled and have wonderful friends. However, sometimes I wonder just how far I've really come. 90% of the time I'm fine. More than fine even. But there is still that 10% where I feel scared that I'll never be able to let go of all the bullshit. <br /><br />Tomorrow's a new day and I'm sure I'll feel much better. Getting it out of my head and on to paper is has helped a little already. <br /><br /><br /><br /><strong></strong>Lulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14762989434423603652noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8061544837800374778.post-16886158856616247432007-04-26T22:39:00.000+01:002007-04-26T22:47:11.741+01:00on a lighter note...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx06OnlGYc8u7oYome7ltTooKdCXhQJApApRKU6mfKg0vvHGHQZZUw1up3gRaeS3vm8cEQBz1oDJZIvgY4_pfIN-of4thhQmHcRq7rbqZWdwSkaDe-vK7dltPPkiG0wCZGwUo7Eq4s0h3g/s1600-h/70057145a%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx06OnlGYc8u7oYome7ltTooKdCXhQJApApRKU6mfKg0vvHGHQZZUw1up3gRaeS3vm8cEQBz1oDJZIvgY4_pfIN-of4thhQmHcRq7rbqZWdwSkaDe-vK7dltPPkiG0wCZGwUo7Eq4s0h3g/s320/70057145a%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057854976827830866" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl8ngS9oyoXN2Ctk6QChSgt_TDyQkIlYPi0uXekv1j-fmMLwD6Sb2fIoyKj8euOkCzzkvNzkByvCCfJZk5GNl-JWnAiBwl2gT2NeyM2oKWHKTzTgOCxIpoJLfKVHBSC47E9SzLnc9BRf1H/s1600-h/cider_02%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl8ngS9oyoXN2Ctk6QChSgt_TDyQkIlYPi0uXekv1j-fmMLwD6Sb2fIoyKj8euOkCzzkvNzkByvCCfJZk5GNl-JWnAiBwl2gT2NeyM2oKWHKTzTgOCxIpoJLfKVHBSC47E9SzLnc9BRf1H/s320/cider_02%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057854890928484930" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixWmQNYG57-KerpiQ5eVvppVV5guCwhWvy-2TG4W1wDp_TJJsbbVO_TM7GwpLs0OAdjlwF2o7vn4vyfI9AnQ5aPoyVvQob6pEPuixc1FLzn98vBegW11PCrCKxI0fBKuMfwoA3Q2ld58Eh/s1600-h/dimsum2%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixWmQNYG57-KerpiQ5eVvppVV5guCwhWvy-2TG4W1wDp_TJJsbbVO_TM7GwpLs0OAdjlwF2o7vn4vyfI9AnQ5aPoyVvQob6pEPuixc1FLzn98vBegW11PCrCKxI0fBKuMfwoA3Q2ld58Eh/s320/dimsum2%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057854809324106290" /></a><br /><br />3 things I'm loving this week:<br /><br />1. <strong>Dim Sum.</strong> Always loved it, but craving it at the moment.<br />2. <strong>Apple Cider.</strong> In a pint glass stacked with ice.<br />3. <strong>Cherry Blossoms.</strong> After an afternoon spent with my book under the falling flowers. Even better was when the local wino walked through the park picked up a handful of fallen flowers and threw them in the air over his head. He turned to me and said; "Isn't it beautiful?".<br /><br />Yep. It is.Lulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14762989434423603652noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8061544837800374778.post-45780983335840626002007-04-26T17:40:00.000+01:002007-04-26T21:58:59.306+01:00the fabulous briscombe girls...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQlIGMQOTTYHyGGwkVVP8pf-_LMyEixr65pZGGncqRKMhL2R-QnswjHCrKKaXv1E89Wan_OGszqZhEzttzMRe-3NDAJTbR45J47addTQyjdA3PYlPhRC7rxSnesZCHyZ9R9mAE3-WYin4E/s1600-h/IMG_1052_1.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQlIGMQOTTYHyGGwkVVP8pf-_LMyEixr65pZGGncqRKMhL2R-QnswjHCrKKaXv1E89Wan_OGszqZhEzttzMRe-3NDAJTbR45J47addTQyjdA3PYlPhRC7rxSnesZCHyZ9R9mAE3-WYin4E/s320/IMG_1052_1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057778019603821058" /></a><br /><br />It's funny. Ever since I started blogging I've begun to think a lot about my past and where I'm from. Perhaps, due to the fact that my sister read my diary when I was 11, and I swore that I would never commit to writing my thoughts again, I want to now create some record of the people, places, events and third hand tales that have shaped me over the years.<br /><br />One of the biggest insipirations of my life has been my grandmother. Throughout her life (and even after she died) she remains the one anchor in my life. She had a pretty tough life in a lot of ways. The youngest of 5 girls and the daugther of a beautiful raven haired Irish women by the name of Olive and an incredibly bright, charming, extremely religous and more than a little eccentric man, Everett. <br /><br />Olive and Everett had fallen in love at a young age and quickly settled down to marriage and children. Everett had trained as a priest before deciding on a life in the law and whisky in the evening. As was the case amongst many Catholic families the children arrived quickly and consistently. Leading up to the depression, my great grandfather fell deeper and deeper in to the solace of drink and the company of colleagues leaving the young Olive at home with 5 girls under the age of 8. When she annouced in early 1926 that she was expecting her 6th child, Everett was livid. He made it clear that this was not welcome news and he held her personally responsible. A month later Olive died of septecimia as a result of a backyard abortion. She was 31. <br /><br />The five remaining girls were separated and spread amongst various family members. My grandmother was sent to live with her Aunt and Grandmother in Mosman where they owned a milkbar. Everett would visit perhaps once a year and my grandmother would not know her sisters until she was much older. The love of her grandmother and aunt allowed her to grow up in to an amazingly strong women and she went on to marry my granfather who adored her until the day he died. <br /><br />My grandmother gives me the strength to believe that I can be anything I want to be. I was born on 20th December 1978. She was born on the 18th December 1925. Every year on her birthday she told me that I was the best late birtday present that she ever got. I hope that I remembered to tell her that she was the best present that I could ever have hoped for. Despite the difficulties with my parents, she gave me enough love for a whole lifetime. I love you, Ruthie.Lulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14762989434423603652noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8061544837800374778.post-83905409628632644382007-04-24T16:21:00.000+01:002007-04-24T16:59:17.121+01:00gamble everything for love...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDfKXXCKK20fieckoyj14-asrVr4_iXsDUdRAfEplAjkwXbpxrsEttLRFBRJAs30UNi_3THed9cft1l3uKn5QgfV05epFzd3chl-7AsKqXfnN0bIQkyzpD3OKK_JTL5r8b_U4NUjbALxq1/s1600-h/IMG_7435.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDfKXXCKK20fieckoyj14-asrVr4_iXsDUdRAfEplAjkwXbpxrsEttLRFBRJAs30UNi_3THed9cft1l3uKn5QgfV05epFzd3chl-7AsKqXfnN0bIQkyzpD3OKK_JTL5r8b_U4NUjbALxq1/s320/IMG_7435.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057016531317997506" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_XbXMmy4RKmCwJDqX_PCTMmY79pMYicIyizaw8zde51EN4P2EZqGKVZqBm7VlUxo0B6Ir_QxXOZa34Y_x9he5XdJXjpyS5wKs1T5wuJyMRojIJdxx0dPYAdKXE5mmGqQ7lJTI1j-MJoZO/s1600-h/IMG_7439.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_XbXMmy4RKmCwJDqX_PCTMmY79pMYicIyizaw8zde51EN4P2EZqGKVZqBm7VlUxo0B6Ir_QxXOZa34Y_x9he5XdJXjpyS5wKs1T5wuJyMRojIJdxx0dPYAdKXE5mmGqQ7lJTI1j-MJoZO/s320/IMG_7439.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057016260735057842" /></a><br /><br />Well, after a number of weeks without an internet connection, I am now back online. I have previously mused over the idea of connectivity as a staple to one's existence but I truly had no idea how reliant I was until I went without. I am so used to checking my emails, myspace, ebay, doing my research and getting my dinner recipes that I almost thought I might need a rehabilition clinic to get over my reliance on this, the new drug of the masses. Luckily, service was restored before this course of action became necessary.<br /><br />Truthfully, not too much has changed over the last few weeks. My battle with the Home Office continues to progress albeit at a snails pace, M and I have had some really nice time hanging out and my frustration at not being able to work increases by the day. I have to try and remain upbeat, as I'm sure it will sorted out sooner rather than later.<br /><br />I guess that coming from quite a colourful past and shambolic upbringing, I always promised myself that I would be able to support myself, rely on nobody and achieve enough so that I could be proud of what I've done. Not being able to do work makes me feel that I am not anywhere near doing any of those 3 things. Then, I start to wonder whether I am being naive sacrificing all of this for the sake of being with the man I love. Am I just setting myself up for a fall and wasting good time in the process? I guess, no matter what the outcome, I can say that I followed <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3nyKT2mEPng">Mr Ben Lee's</a> directions and gambled everything for love. <br /><br />How cheesy. I told you I was a romantic.Lulihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14762989434423603652noreply@blogger.com2