Oh wow. Just as I'm writing this, Hubbie and mine's first song, is on tv. It's our song well and truly, amongst others. This song came out in about July 2000, right before we started going out. 10 years ago. Well 11 now.
How appropriate, that it come on, as I start a post about the last year, last decade, and try to determine what the future holds.
WOW. What memories. I've just been taken back.
So, in the last year, there have been some changes, some growth within my life. Hubbie and I purchased a block of land. We made 1 year of marriage (!) which is a celebration in itself, LOL.
Work wise, I've developed substantially, gradually taking on more and more responsibility in my bosses absences. To the point that my bosses boss, says to me "I want you to keep learning, keep asking questions.... so that you may become like her..... understudy."
Shit. Those are big shoes to fill. I gratefully accept the compliments and the belief in my abilities, as to where it all leads, I guess we'll just have to wait and see:)
Relationship wise: as mentioned Hubbie and I made one year. Which sort of pales in comparison to the 10 years we've already been together, but marriage brings about different challenges that can't be experienced in a partnership where you don't live together. Marriage is wonderful, and it's awesome to be your own bosses: eat what you like, get up and go to sleep whenever. If you're cold, put the heater on! They sound like basic things I know, but don't forget the entertaining, the visitors, the parties, the going out. And with all of that comes massive compromise, and that's why marriage is different. Everything is shared, everything is part of you. His family is mine, and my family is his. There are disagreements, arguments, tears and outbursts. There's a bit of getting used to.
But after all of that? Despite the differences, the opposites in behaviour, the coming together of personalities, we are essentially the same people, and love the same things, and want the same things. That helps SOOO much. And last night, lying in bed, as his arm was outstretched over my body, my free hand on his shoulder as my other hand held the open book to read, I thought of how much I loved him. Despite the differences, despite families, despite EVERYTHING, I thought of how much I love him, how much MORE I love him after 10 years. And that tells me everything. Love grows and feeds off of itself. It develops into something so deep, that trivial crap, and itty-bitty bullshit, just doesn't even gain a speck on its radar. It's beyond anything comprehensible. We have so much of it within us, and when we emit it, it comes back to us two-fold, which is an incredible feeling.
So Hubbie and I are good:)
Family and Friends: Yes and yes, but sometimes no. Reading back on any of my blogs over the last year, you could not say that I have the most positive views on some family members, friends and people I know. But you know what, it's not a perfect world, there are no 'perfect' families and with the amount of differing personalities out there, it's impossible for all of us to get along. Having said that, I've learnt that you need to sometimes turn a blind eye, not look too much into things, and also as I mentioned in my "Christmas Wishes" post, wish the person who upsets you most, well. People who I couldn't stand, who I was extrememly disappointed in and let down by, I now feel differently about. I've accepted them as human, not perfect, and clearly with faults, like you, me and everyone else. I've zoned in on the positive, and really, that works. It's helped me so much, and I believe my negative downward spiral of unhappy family/friend realtionships have actually come to an end. Maybe even with Mouth and Moody. OMG. I know, incredible right?
Other fabulous news-worthy items: collingwood won, I saw George Michael and Hubbie and I holidayed in the sunshine state. There are so many more things, but I wanted this post to be future-oriented, rather than concerned with the past.
Having said that, I must look back on this last decade, just quickly :)
I get a very nervous feeling when I think that, because I know what's coming: this last decade, I went from an unattached 16 going on 17 year-old, to a girl going out with a guy who would later become her husband. How wonderful and weird this world is:) I finished high school, started and finished uni, had about 5 jobs until I found my current full-time one. Got married following a mammoth wedding, travelled through a good portion of Europe, and am now living contently a year and a half later.
So when I think of the next 10 years, the next decade, and wonder what my thoughts will be on the last 10 years, THEN, nervous tension bubbles in the pit of my stomach. I know it will involve a new home, expansion of family, friends getting married, and more kids, EVERYWHERE.
I guess change is always scary. Gosh I feel like crying now. I don't know what it is. Sometimes we're so comfortable where we are, that we don't want to move forward, we want to stay stationary in a moment in time. That's how I felt last night. As I've said quite regularly, I'm in a selfish phase of life. It's all about me, and Hubbie. My Hubbie, my life, my job, my car, my clothes, my friends, my family. Me me me. The thought of that changing freaks me out. I know how much I value myself and my life, and so I know that my attention shifting to something else, is something so foreign and almost unnatural, that I think that is what is really freaking me out. The changing of values, lifestyle.
You know what? I don't think it's good to look too far into the future. It can be scary. You don't know what to expect, and how things will transpire.
Not knowing is terrifying. But again as I say that, I am suddenly reminded of myself at the end of the last decade. Knowing all that I do now, having achieved so much academically, professionally, having a loving husband and wonderful family and friends, on our way to building a home, well! Telling my 16 year old self then, she would have freaked to find out so much! But having lived through it, step by step, it wasn't so scary. Interesting, challenging and life-evolving, that's what it was. It's life, it's growth and it's perfectly natural. You take each day at a time, and see where it leads you.
Which is why we do resolutions for a year ahead. It's less confronting:)
So I'm taking a deep breath and now focusing on the year ahead!
I took a peek at my resolutions from the past year, half cringing because I'd half forgotten them, but having re-read them I was pleasantly surprised:
1. To increase my Vitamin D intake by sitting in the sun more ( I love doing it anyway! ) and eating foods that are rich in the vitamin.
So yes lately especially, I've been in the sun heaps, to the point that Hubbie called me something not so nice as a joke in response to my darkened state. I took it as a compliment:) I have it all worked out: in spring and summer I get natural Vit D from the sun, in autumn/winter I take my Vit D supplements. As for the foods rich in Vit D, I try, when I can, but because the food sources are so scarce, I don't stress myself out over them.
2. To decrease arm fat.
Hmmm. So recently actually, I've started running around with Hubbie as he trains for, plays basketball. I think all the shooting and passing of the ball is helping, however until just recently I was quite slack in the department of decreasing arm fat, I didn't really do much. I'm hoping the new year will change that. Look, I don't have a fat arm problem, but I strive for perfection, as dangeous as that pursuit is.
3. To generally get more toned, in particular to target my tummy and reduce the fat there.
As per above comments. I haven't done much exercise to target that, but all the housework and busy lifestyle have helped me, somehow. Which is great.
4. To read more.
So this I have done more of. And I continue to do more of, given my upcoming 2011 resolutions. Read on.
2011 Resolutions
1. To read, HEAPS more. In fact, I want to set up some sort of column/box within my blogger page, so that I can list the books I wanna read and then so to speak 'tick' them off when I do. Seeing it everytime I log into blogger will help me be more aware of it too. I want to read more to help my writing as well (see below resolution), as I want to be more aware of different writing styles, different authors, different stories. I want to know so much, the need to read and research is so great within me right now.
2. To complete my first book by the end of the year. By complete I mean finish writing to my satisfactory standard, so that I can start promoting it to agents, or however it goes. As nervous as I get when I think of it, I think it is a realistic goal. One story, one year. I'm sure some would think I've given myself too much time even, however what I want to do is start something big, and I need the proper research, planning and education to get it right off the bat, so that when I continue with my following books, it all flows perfectly and effortlessly.
3. To get fit. Whether it's playing basketball with Hubbie, taking on yoga, or just getting into long walks/runs, I really want to make it a part of my life. I make health-oriented goals each year, and I know that with some of them, I do somewhat succeed, but others are just a waste of written space. I don't want that to be the case this year. I really want to make an effort of it. And seeing myself in my mind, with the body I want, is motivation enough.
4. To improve all my relationships, full-stop. To not sweat the small stuff, which will be assisted by the Richard Carlson "Don't Sweat the Small Stuff" daily calendar Red bought me for chrissy. To relax, not worry, see the postive in everyone and all things. To wish the people that annoy me, well, and MEAN it.
5. To continue on my path of spiritual growth and self-development. To keep reading books on bettering myself and my life, and to continue striving toward my dreams.
6. To enjoy life. Just the other day I said to Hubbie, "I want to enjoy our city; go out for coffee, walk through parks, just go out." It doesn't have to break the bank. Often the simplest things are the most rewarding. Taking a walk along the beach; eating an ice cream; sitting on a park bench. I want to observe, absorb, feel and create. I want to feel the sun on my face, be a part of life, experience all that is to offer. I want to live every day of my life. Because that's what we're here to do.
So, those are my dreams for the coming year. And being in the frame of mind that I am, I think I will do quite well (just between you and me:))
Remember: If at first you don't succeed, try, try again.
Happy new year, Happy New Decade :-D
Showing posts with label good ol' Collingwood forever. Show all posts
Showing posts with label good ol' Collingwood forever. Show all posts
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Bubble and Squeak
Bubble and squeak is a term I came across a few months back, when browsing through some recipe books. As arrogant as this next bit might make me sound, to my surprise (and slight disgust) I discovered it was a term, rather a recipe whereby you used leftover vegies from another meal to make a 'new' meal, perhaps using eggs or something similar to combine it all together.
I think I was more disgusted at the name given to the recipe, rather than the ingredients used or the recycling of the food itself. No one eats leftovers more than Hubbie and I, so I can't say 'boo' to re-using food at all. But the name, bubble and squeak....... I don't know, what about the recipe, inspired the name Bubble and Squeak? What, about the food, makes it bubble.... and squeak...? Shudder at the thought.
However, this odd food terminology has sprung to mind in thinking about what indeed I should write about. So many odd, random, good and bad things have occurred of late, that I don't really know what to focus my writing attention on.
And this is how bubble and squeak came to mind. Apparently, the bubble and squeak is all the things that have happened lately, and the egg jelling it all together is my life.
Egg is my life. LOL.
And so the following minor stories, observations and episodic details of my life may come at you rather randomly, much like pieces of day-old carrot and peas in a mouthful of distastefully named 'bubble and squeak.'
(I'm only guessing at how it may taste). All this in an effort to bring you up to speed on my life, and also to bring me up to speed in my own life and help me to review it in progress, in what is herein going to be referred to as the 'bubble and squeak' post.
So be warned. I have NOT been taking notes.
When it comes to the good, versus the bad, unfortunately it's the bad that first springs to mind. However that only means that I have all good to end with :)
Mouth absolutely boiled me to my core, once again, on a few occasions. It becomes very hard when you have to deal with a person such as this. Even harder when it's someone in the family who you just can't avoid, unless of course you disown them, which I couldn't do without hurting many people I care about.
I get into this cycle with her. She shits me up the wall > I get upset, broody and moody and keep it all in trying to work it out in my head > it culminates in me practically exploding to Hubbie in anger and tears > after 3 days of wallowing we work out that A) I need to partially ignore her, and B) actually speak my mind and tell her when she is annoying me, in order to avoid the fantasy fights I create of her and I later on in my mind, that eventually drive me crraaaaazzzzzyyyyyyy.
So although we have danced this exact dance many times, I actually need to put the mentioned A and B acts to practice, and follow through. Otherwise nothing will ever change. Only my attitude in how to deal with her will actually change anything for me, because as we all know, an old dog will not learn any new tricks.
Lately I have been sick. Last Thursday, I barely made it into work, the only motivators being that my boss was away and I had extra stuff to do, and also, it was my last day before 3 days off. I made it in, barely could keep myself sitting straight up at my desk just long enough to do what I had to do, and left half way through the day. It was just so unbearable. Not only had I gone through a very sleepless and interrupted nights sleep, waking up what seemed like a zillion times and saying to myself "get up it's time to go to work," when in fact I still had hours to sleep, but my muscles were absolutely aching in agony. I was sooooo sore, every part of me hurt, which made me just want to curl up on my couch at home and sleep. Which I ended up doing.
It was the culmination of what had been a huge October. I don't know who else received it, but I got it a few times, both via sms and email, the chain letter about this recent October having 5 Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays? Yes and then it annoyingly tells you you must keep it going, according to the far-reaching distant natives of the land Makirouchidoo or some other tribal sounding country in order to keep the luck going, UNLESS YOU WANT TO DIE. Well it might as well say that, with all the suggestive terminology making you want to send it or else meet some horrible fate. And so I did send it, and due to sending it several times during the month, it occurred to me that hey, this has been a LONG month.
And then I reminisced.
The month began with that awesome grand final win in which the Mighty Magpies brought the cup home! Finally! That had been a big weekend.
We had had my friends over, my close group, which in total added up to 8 of us, for dinner. That was a big night. There was food, there was drink, there were MANY cupcakes. And it was an awesome night.
We had ALL my cousins over. Yes, that drunk post, that was the aftermath. Needless to say I got a little-iddy-bit tipsydrunk, therefore placing the indicator of party success at HIGH.
In between we had side nights (of which I mean people over but not huge to the point of party-status-phere) where my sister came over, and Hubbie's friends. We had a wedding, we had people arriving at the airport from overseas trips. And then the month ended with Hubbie's big birthday bash, where once again we proved we could throw awesome parties and still have fun while doing all the work:)
I think I wore myself out to the disgusting point where 5 days after the last October party, my body started to shut down. It said "screw you, I'm taking leave," leaving the rest of me pathetically screaming "No! Come back damn you!"
And so the muscle aches set in, only after the sore throat and intense sneezing commenced. The flu symptoms were persistent again in days 2 and 3, where again I felt intense fatigue (due to my body running away no doubt) and cleaning the house probably didn't help me much, but hey what else was I supposed to do at home? Yeah I know I know, I could've sat in front of the telly all day. But that would have worked against my whole effective/efficient habit that I haven't been able to kick for the past 9 years.
And so today, a week after my first flu symptoms popped up, I'm still left with a consistent, grating, unrelenting cough. It is really so inconvenient. It's gone from worse, after the weekend of drinking champagne and other home-made apparently 'healing' concoctions, to just annoying now, where I still have to cough every so often - cough cough cough - excuse me, unlike this morning where I felt like I was just hacking up flem.
So all in all, it's getting better.
There was also this little moment late last week, a predecessor before the whole 'sick' thing started.... I had this interesting moment at work with a fellow colleague of mine, that totally bew me out of the water, catching me off guard completely. And it was all to do with cake.
All over some bloody cake.
In true Miss S form, I had decided to bring in to work leftover cake from Hubbie's birthday. I knew there were a few people, who would REALLY appreciate the free cake and all, and having had a huge month that was filled with way too much cakes and cupcakes and just everything sweet, early on I decided that getting rid of the mass amount we still had from Hubbie's birthday would be the right way to go.
And so in I brought it. And as I was finishing off my early shift that day, I happened across a work colleague of mine, who we shall call Kitty. Hmmm :)
She was just starting her shift, and so my intention was to let her know of the few leftover cakes there were near my desk, so she could spread the word to our other fellow workers starting later on that day as well.
As soon as I started the words "Kitty, just so you know there's some cakes over th-"
"No! Don't talk to me about cake!"
And so it began. In a very direct, firm way, she told me:
1. that she was not going to eat any cake
2. people in our work area should not be encouraged to eat cake
3. she wouldn't be responsible for making people eat cake ..............AND
4. if cake was left over, she ALSO wouldn't be responsible for getting rid of it.
What the?! All I mentioned was cake. I was a bit stunned, a bit miffed, and seeing as my sneezing had been accelerating that day, more than sensitive enough, so I was hurt. I felt like she was attacking me, personally, just for bringing in cake.
And all I was doing was trying to be nice. It was about then that another fellow colleague arrived, and I told him quite matter-of-factly that there was cake and that at least HE would appreciate it. I sort of ended the conversation by walking off, without a real proper goodbye to her.
I was really hurt by it all. I pondered it on the way home. I know she had been trying to lose a bit of excess weight that she had gained over the past year (not that she was overweight). I thought of other times that I had brought in cake, and asked myself if I had been pushy in getting people to eat the cake in order to rid myself of it. I wasn't quite sure, but I knew that then, in that moment and in that day, I had merely mentioned it, before getting a barrage of cake-hate spewing out at me.
I spoke to Hubbie about it that night, and even he thought the remarks I'd received were unwarranted and odd. I guess I felt a bit worse, as it's always a little sad when someone you normally like and get along with gives you grief. You wonder 'why' and think of where you have gone wrong. I did just that, and only ended up making myself feel MORE sadder...
Anyways, the next day, arriving at work, I saw an email from her titled 'cakes...'
Part of me had been expecting an email addressing the whole cake issue, so I was not surprised.
Miss S,
Below an email generated in an effort to try to make up for my not wanting cake comments - which came out much harsher than I meant. So sorry about that - I know it's meant in the kindest spirit....
So if they guys don't eat them - I can't say I didn't try!
Kitty
OMG. I always knew the power of Miss S was huge. I've worked in customer service and have gotten a rotten customer to apologise to me for her bitchiness without even trying. I've had my Dad, one of the most stubborn of people, say sorry to me. And he doesn't say sorry or admit to his failures. EVER. I remember Pez, my ex-best friend, calling me up and crying over the phone, saying sorry to just hanging up on me after a stupid fight.
And now this. A woman 10 years my senior, with tonnes more life and work experience, sending me an email to apologise for yelling at me about cakes. (ok not yelling but it sounds better than just 'being firm')
I'm sorry but WOAH. That's big. Of her. To be sorry is one thing, bu to say it out loud to the person you upset in the first place, is a totally different, very rare thing. So I totally applaud her for that.
Following her email to me was the message she had sent to the rest of our department, letting them know, in so many words "cake is here..... eat or else!" So she helped me with my cake distribution, and that, along with admitting her overzealousness in cake-hating, means we are now friends again:)
I have been good in the pursuit of writing my story. I find that when I just start to jot down and write random plot ideas, character traits and story outlines that I am further inspired and motivated to do more research and develop my dream of writing professionally even more. A few nights I have found myself just doodling quite casually, and the following day I find I have the characters and the potential things they could get up to just running around and around in my head. I'm happy with the fact that it stays in my head, because it's sort of confirmation that what I'm thinking is not only interesting, but addictive and worthy, because if it weren't so, I tell ya it wouldn't last long in my over-imaginative mind. I still plan on eventually (whenever I actually finish my first book, after the actuality of beginning to write it) getting Hubbie, Sis and Red to read it and to tell me what their honest, honest, honest opinions on it are. I will ask them to be brutal, and then I think I will run away and hide. Something about getting someone so close to you to critique your work, actually fills me with a sick, sick feeling, and no not the kind that is cough-inducing. More the type that will churn your stomach contents and force them in a vertical motion. Hell, even when I see that people have read my blog, I freak out slightly, and that's people I don't know, with no critical response whatsoever!
But baby steps. All little baby steps. All in the right direction.
Speaking of baby steps. Had a massive, major, incredible !!lightbulb!! moment a few nights ago with Hubbie, Sis and her Hub. It is actually so incredible and major, that if this thing were to eventuate, it could change all of our lives, I believe MAJORLY. But because it is so big, we aren't actually letting people know of our "idea" until hopefully the day that it is fully under way and in full practice. No, sorry I can't even let my imaginary blogger-verse know about it. All off-limits. But I just had to say, it is AMAZING. Funny how something can be under your nose, in your face for so many years, and you just don't know that the opportunity has been staring you in the face the whole time. I think that is called TIMING.
And in more recent fantastic news, I have been shopping. Ahhhhh, how sweet the pursuit of clothes via monetary means and the accumulation of said-clothes can be.
Sweeeetttt.
Yesterday I purchased a very fine jacket. It was during some morning-afternoon shopping before my work shift, and Hubbie and I had just had enough. We were talking about clothes we had, clothes we usually went for, and the clothes that we should go for.
And we made a deal. No longer were we going to go for the safe, normal option. We weren't going to just buy, in my case, more plain tops, black dresses and ballet shoes, or in his case, more chequered shirts and blue polo tops. We were gonna go a bit wild, edgy, and start playing it up. We had decided, and we were sick of it!
Gosh just thinking of our new-found pact, and of all the clothes I could have if I had become shopping-smarter, sooner, just gives me even more AMMO to shop. You see, by always going for the 'safe' shopping option, you end up with a wardrobe that is not only identical, but that lacks creativity. By choosing items of clothing that will go the distance over the coming seasons, you end up lacking the current individuality that you so deserve.
Pieces of clothing can be wild and outrageous, and go the distance, if chosen correctly. I think of the alternative style of dwellers living in the edgy parts of outer-city Melbourne, and I highly doubt that they purchase with the aim of getting the most years out of their clothes, yet they still manage to do so. And still look good in seasons to come. Certainly I don't plan on moving to those suburbs, but the thought of a wild, indy-style wardrobe, with 50s style dresses, hippie skirts, bright colours and edgy alternative cuts of clothing, is greatly appealing to me right now. And what excites me more than anything (perhaps level with the accumulation of clothes though!) is the idea that if it is different, we will not look at the price of an item, we will just buy it.
Let's put that in simpler terms. If something is different = BUY!$!$!
I know! How incredibly monetar-ily free-ing is that idea! Of buying whatever as long as it's DIFFERENT! And Hubbie came up with that idea too. I know I married him for a reason :-D
It's not so easy just to want to do something. You have to also delete all the pre-wired talk in your mind, reset your shopping habits and think outside the square if you're going to start doing things differently. For example this morning, when Hubbie and I were shopping (yet again, we're on a roll) at before-mentioned outer-city suburb, I was in this full bohemian-hippy shop, which had A LOT of dresses. I came across a black and white one with a lot of ruffles near the neck line. It is a gorgeous dress, not too extreme, but even so, when I tried it on, I loved it but was still going "oh, I don't know, it has A LOT of ruffles at the front!"
You see, the old Miss S would have said "those ruffles won't help me move from season to season, year to year." But the new one, asked Hubbie for confidence, pushed through the doubt and went "you know what? I look great in this! I'll buy it!"
Now that I'm thinking differently about my clothes shopping selections and habits, I feel as if I'm a slightly different person, like I'm looking at life all differently. I can even imagine myself in one of the two dresses I bought today, (!) wearing a huge oversized straw hat and swinging from a hammock, with the current song "Something in the Water," playing in the background. Weird. I don't even own a hammock.
It's just inspiring, and so good to know, that not only with clothes, but all decisions in life, all paths taken, roads chosen, any change of direction is just a mind-set away. If you want to make the change, you can, and WILL. It's so easy. You just say "I'm going to look for a new job," "I'm getting a totally new haircut," or in my case "I'm changing my clothing style." It is so uninhibiting to realise you can do whatever you want to in life. As long as you want to.
Now that I've given you my daily awe-inspiring motivational life-quote, concluding tonights mammoth blog post (it started at work and is now ending after midnight at home) I will leave you with this thought for the night:
Everyone knows what eggs are. Eggs are eggs. But what you do with your egg will make a difference. Will you boil, poach or fry? Will you add spices and bacon, spinach and cheese, or place it on toast? What about the quality of your egg? Will it be free-range and wholesome? Grain-fed?
What you make of your very ordinary-seeming egg, will make the rest of your morning. Just as your decisions, will make your seemingly ordinary life, extraordinary.
(Definition to metaphor provided for clarity and due to lateness of post)
I think I was more disgusted at the name given to the recipe, rather than the ingredients used or the recycling of the food itself. No one eats leftovers more than Hubbie and I, so I can't say 'boo' to re-using food at all. But the name, bubble and squeak....... I don't know, what about the recipe, inspired the name Bubble and Squeak? What, about the food, makes it bubble.... and squeak...? Shudder at the thought.
However, this odd food terminology has sprung to mind in thinking about what indeed I should write about. So many odd, random, good and bad things have occurred of late, that I don't really know what to focus my writing attention on.
And this is how bubble and squeak came to mind. Apparently, the bubble and squeak is all the things that have happened lately, and the egg jelling it all together is my life.
Egg is my life. LOL.
And so the following minor stories, observations and episodic details of my life may come at you rather randomly, much like pieces of day-old carrot and peas in a mouthful of distastefully named 'bubble and squeak.'
(I'm only guessing at how it may taste). All this in an effort to bring you up to speed on my life, and also to bring me up to speed in my own life and help me to review it in progress, in what is herein going to be referred to as the 'bubble and squeak' post.
So be warned. I have NOT been taking notes.
When it comes to the good, versus the bad, unfortunately it's the bad that first springs to mind. However that only means that I have all good to end with :)
Mouth absolutely boiled me to my core, once again, on a few occasions. It becomes very hard when you have to deal with a person such as this. Even harder when it's someone in the family who you just can't avoid, unless of course you disown them, which I couldn't do without hurting many people I care about.
I get into this cycle with her. She shits me up the wall > I get upset, broody and moody and keep it all in trying to work it out in my head > it culminates in me practically exploding to Hubbie in anger and tears > after 3 days of wallowing we work out that A) I need to partially ignore her, and B) actually speak my mind and tell her when she is annoying me, in order to avoid the fantasy fights I create of her and I later on in my mind, that eventually drive me crraaaaazzzzzyyyyyyy.
So although we have danced this exact dance many times, I actually need to put the mentioned A and B acts to practice, and follow through. Otherwise nothing will ever change. Only my attitude in how to deal with her will actually change anything for me, because as we all know, an old dog will not learn any new tricks.
Lately I have been sick. Last Thursday, I barely made it into work, the only motivators being that my boss was away and I had extra stuff to do, and also, it was my last day before 3 days off. I made it in, barely could keep myself sitting straight up at my desk just long enough to do what I had to do, and left half way through the day. It was just so unbearable. Not only had I gone through a very sleepless and interrupted nights sleep, waking up what seemed like a zillion times and saying to myself "get up it's time to go to work," when in fact I still had hours to sleep, but my muscles were absolutely aching in agony. I was sooooo sore, every part of me hurt, which made me just want to curl up on my couch at home and sleep. Which I ended up doing.
It was the culmination of what had been a huge October. I don't know who else received it, but I got it a few times, both via sms and email, the chain letter about this recent October having 5 Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays? Yes and then it annoyingly tells you you must keep it going, according to the far-reaching distant natives of the land Makirouchidoo or some other tribal sounding country in order to keep the luck going, UNLESS YOU WANT TO DIE. Well it might as well say that, with all the suggestive terminology making you want to send it or else meet some horrible fate. And so I did send it, and due to sending it several times during the month, it occurred to me that hey, this has been a LONG month.
And then I reminisced.
The month began with that awesome grand final win in which the Mighty Magpies brought the cup home! Finally! That had been a big weekend.
We had had my friends over, my close group, which in total added up to 8 of us, for dinner. That was a big night. There was food, there was drink, there were MANY cupcakes. And it was an awesome night.
We had ALL my cousins over. Yes, that drunk post, that was the aftermath. Needless to say I got a little-iddy-bit tipsydrunk, therefore placing the indicator of party success at HIGH.
In between we had side nights (of which I mean people over but not huge to the point of party-status-phere) where my sister came over, and Hubbie's friends. We had a wedding, we had people arriving at the airport from overseas trips. And then the month ended with Hubbie's big birthday bash, where once again we proved we could throw awesome parties and still have fun while doing all the work:)
I think I wore myself out to the disgusting point where 5 days after the last October party, my body started to shut down. It said "screw you, I'm taking leave," leaving the rest of me pathetically screaming "No! Come back damn you!"
And so the muscle aches set in, only after the sore throat and intense sneezing commenced. The flu symptoms were persistent again in days 2 and 3, where again I felt intense fatigue (due to my body running away no doubt) and cleaning the house probably didn't help me much, but hey what else was I supposed to do at home? Yeah I know I know, I could've sat in front of the telly all day. But that would have worked against my whole effective/efficient habit that I haven't been able to kick for the past 9 years.
And so today, a week after my first flu symptoms popped up, I'm still left with a consistent, grating, unrelenting cough. It is really so inconvenient. It's gone from worse, after the weekend of drinking champagne and other home-made apparently 'healing' concoctions, to just annoying now, where I still have to cough every so often - cough cough cough - excuse me, unlike this morning where I felt like I was just hacking up flem.
So all in all, it's getting better.
There was also this little moment late last week, a predecessor before the whole 'sick' thing started.... I had this interesting moment at work with a fellow colleague of mine, that totally bew me out of the water, catching me off guard completely. And it was all to do with cake.
All over some bloody cake.
In true Miss S form, I had decided to bring in to work leftover cake from Hubbie's birthday. I knew there were a few people, who would REALLY appreciate the free cake and all, and having had a huge month that was filled with way too much cakes and cupcakes and just everything sweet, early on I decided that getting rid of the mass amount we still had from Hubbie's birthday would be the right way to go.
And so in I brought it. And as I was finishing off my early shift that day, I happened across a work colleague of mine, who we shall call Kitty. Hmmm :)
She was just starting her shift, and so my intention was to let her know of the few leftover cakes there were near my desk, so she could spread the word to our other fellow workers starting later on that day as well.
As soon as I started the words "Kitty, just so you know there's some cakes over th-"
"No! Don't talk to me about cake!"
And so it began. In a very direct, firm way, she told me:
1. that she was not going to eat any cake
2. people in our work area should not be encouraged to eat cake
3. she wouldn't be responsible for making people eat cake ..............AND
4. if cake was left over, she ALSO wouldn't be responsible for getting rid of it.
What the?! All I mentioned was cake. I was a bit stunned, a bit miffed, and seeing as my sneezing had been accelerating that day, more than sensitive enough, so I was hurt. I felt like she was attacking me, personally, just for bringing in cake.
And all I was doing was trying to be nice. It was about then that another fellow colleague arrived, and I told him quite matter-of-factly that there was cake and that at least HE would appreciate it. I sort of ended the conversation by walking off, without a real proper goodbye to her.
I was really hurt by it all. I pondered it on the way home. I know she had been trying to lose a bit of excess weight that she had gained over the past year (not that she was overweight). I thought of other times that I had brought in cake, and asked myself if I had been pushy in getting people to eat the cake in order to rid myself of it. I wasn't quite sure, but I knew that then, in that moment and in that day, I had merely mentioned it, before getting a barrage of cake-hate spewing out at me.
I spoke to Hubbie about it that night, and even he thought the remarks I'd received were unwarranted and odd. I guess I felt a bit worse, as it's always a little sad when someone you normally like and get along with gives you grief. You wonder 'why' and think of where you have gone wrong. I did just that, and only ended up making myself feel MORE sadder...
Anyways, the next day, arriving at work, I saw an email from her titled 'cakes...'
Part of me had been expecting an email addressing the whole cake issue, so I was not surprised.
Miss S,
Below an email generated in an effort to try to make up for my not wanting cake comments - which came out much harsher than I meant. So sorry about that - I know it's meant in the kindest spirit....
So if they guys don't eat them - I can't say I didn't try!
Kitty
OMG. I always knew the power of Miss S was huge. I've worked in customer service and have gotten a rotten customer to apologise to me for her bitchiness without even trying. I've had my Dad, one of the most stubborn of people, say sorry to me. And he doesn't say sorry or admit to his failures. EVER. I remember Pez, my ex-best friend, calling me up and crying over the phone, saying sorry to just hanging up on me after a stupid fight.
And now this. A woman 10 years my senior, with tonnes more life and work experience, sending me an email to apologise for yelling at me about cakes. (ok not yelling but it sounds better than just 'being firm')
I'm sorry but WOAH. That's big. Of her. To be sorry is one thing, bu to say it out loud to the person you upset in the first place, is a totally different, very rare thing. So I totally applaud her for that.
Following her email to me was the message she had sent to the rest of our department, letting them know, in so many words "cake is here..... eat or else!" So she helped me with my cake distribution, and that, along with admitting her overzealousness in cake-hating, means we are now friends again:)
I have been good in the pursuit of writing my story. I find that when I just start to jot down and write random plot ideas, character traits and story outlines that I am further inspired and motivated to do more research and develop my dream of writing professionally even more. A few nights I have found myself just doodling quite casually, and the following day I find I have the characters and the potential things they could get up to just running around and around in my head. I'm happy with the fact that it stays in my head, because it's sort of confirmation that what I'm thinking is not only interesting, but addictive and worthy, because if it weren't so, I tell ya it wouldn't last long in my over-imaginative mind. I still plan on eventually (whenever I actually finish my first book, after the actuality of beginning to write it) getting Hubbie, Sis and Red to read it and to tell me what their honest, honest, honest opinions on it are. I will ask them to be brutal, and then I think I will run away and hide. Something about getting someone so close to you to critique your work, actually fills me with a sick, sick feeling, and no not the kind that is cough-inducing. More the type that will churn your stomach contents and force them in a vertical motion. Hell, even when I see that people have read my blog, I freak out slightly, and that's people I don't know, with no critical response whatsoever!
But baby steps. All little baby steps. All in the right direction.
Speaking of baby steps. Had a massive, major, incredible !!lightbulb!! moment a few nights ago with Hubbie, Sis and her Hub. It is actually so incredible and major, that if this thing were to eventuate, it could change all of our lives, I believe MAJORLY. But because it is so big, we aren't actually letting people know of our "idea" until hopefully the day that it is fully under way and in full practice. No, sorry I can't even let my imaginary blogger-verse know about it. All off-limits. But I just had to say, it is AMAZING. Funny how something can be under your nose, in your face for so many years, and you just don't know that the opportunity has been staring you in the face the whole time. I think that is called TIMING.
And in more recent fantastic news, I have been shopping. Ahhhhh, how sweet the pursuit of clothes via monetary means and the accumulation of said-clothes can be.
Sweeeetttt.
Yesterday I purchased a very fine jacket. It was during some morning-afternoon shopping before my work shift, and Hubbie and I had just had enough. We were talking about clothes we had, clothes we usually went for, and the clothes that we should go for.
And we made a deal. No longer were we going to go for the safe, normal option. We weren't going to just buy, in my case, more plain tops, black dresses and ballet shoes, or in his case, more chequered shirts and blue polo tops. We were gonna go a bit wild, edgy, and start playing it up. We had decided, and we were sick of it!
Gosh just thinking of our new-found pact, and of all the clothes I could have if I had become shopping-smarter, sooner, just gives me even more AMMO to shop. You see, by always going for the 'safe' shopping option, you end up with a wardrobe that is not only identical, but that lacks creativity. By choosing items of clothing that will go the distance over the coming seasons, you end up lacking the current individuality that you so deserve.
Pieces of clothing can be wild and outrageous, and go the distance, if chosen correctly. I think of the alternative style of dwellers living in the edgy parts of outer-city Melbourne, and I highly doubt that they purchase with the aim of getting the most years out of their clothes, yet they still manage to do so. And still look good in seasons to come. Certainly I don't plan on moving to those suburbs, but the thought of a wild, indy-style wardrobe, with 50s style dresses, hippie skirts, bright colours and edgy alternative cuts of clothing, is greatly appealing to me right now. And what excites me more than anything (perhaps level with the accumulation of clothes though!) is the idea that if it is different, we will not look at the price of an item, we will just buy it.
Let's put that in simpler terms. If something is different = BUY!$!$!
I know! How incredibly monetar-ily free-ing is that idea! Of buying whatever as long as it's DIFFERENT! And Hubbie came up with that idea too. I know I married him for a reason :-D
It's not so easy just to want to do something. You have to also delete all the pre-wired talk in your mind, reset your shopping habits and think outside the square if you're going to start doing things differently. For example this morning, when Hubbie and I were shopping (yet again, we're on a roll) at before-mentioned outer-city suburb, I was in this full bohemian-hippy shop, which had A LOT of dresses. I came across a black and white one with a lot of ruffles near the neck line. It is a gorgeous dress, not too extreme, but even so, when I tried it on, I loved it but was still going "oh, I don't know, it has A LOT of ruffles at the front!"
You see, the old Miss S would have said "those ruffles won't help me move from season to season, year to year." But the new one, asked Hubbie for confidence, pushed through the doubt and went "you know what? I look great in this! I'll buy it!"
Now that I'm thinking differently about my clothes shopping selections and habits, I feel as if I'm a slightly different person, like I'm looking at life all differently. I can even imagine myself in one of the two dresses I bought today, (!) wearing a huge oversized straw hat and swinging from a hammock, with the current song "Something in the Water," playing in the background. Weird. I don't even own a hammock.
It's just inspiring, and so good to know, that not only with clothes, but all decisions in life, all paths taken, roads chosen, any change of direction is just a mind-set away. If you want to make the change, you can, and WILL. It's so easy. You just say "I'm going to look for a new job," "I'm getting a totally new haircut," or in my case "I'm changing my clothing style." It is so uninhibiting to realise you can do whatever you want to in life. As long as you want to.
Now that I've given you my daily awe-inspiring motivational life-quote, concluding tonights mammoth blog post (it started at work and is now ending after midnight at home) I will leave you with this thought for the night:
Everyone knows what eggs are. Eggs are eggs. But what you do with your egg will make a difference. Will you boil, poach or fry? Will you add spices and bacon, spinach and cheese, or place it on toast? What about the quality of your egg? Will it be free-range and wholesome? Grain-fed?
What you make of your very ordinary-seeming egg, will make the rest of your morning. Just as your decisions, will make your seemingly ordinary life, extraordinary.
(Definition to metaphor provided for clarity and due to lateness of post)
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
They won!
"Good old Collingwood Forever, they know how to play the game
Side by side they stick together, to uphold the magpie's name!
Hear the barrackers shouting, as all barrackers should
Ohhh the premiereship's a cakewalk, for the good old Collingwood!!!!"
P.S Yes they won! By a magnificent, crushing 56 point-victory.
108 - 52.
20 years in the making. What an incredible win!
Now on to the business of back-to-back wins...... ;-D
Side by side they stick together, to uphold the magpie's name!
Hear the barrackers shouting, as all barrackers should
Ohhh the premiereship's a cakewalk, for the good old Collingwood!!!!"
P.S Yes they won! By a magnificent, crushing 56 point-victory.
108 - 52.
20 years in the making. What an incredible win!
Now on to the business of back-to-back wins...... ;-D
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Oh my gosh, so sweet
This week has been a cake kinda week.
I made Collingwood inspired cupcakes on Friday night, in support of my team ACTUALLY winning. But that didn't happen. We still enjoyed the cupcakes though. I bought (most of) them to the grand final party Hubbie and I were invited to: they were a chocolate quick-mix cupcake with a dark chocolate ganache as frosting, and white chocolate melts and white chocolate bits as decoration, to give the effect of a 'magic mushroom' as the recipe called it. But I looked at it as black and white colours, (if you squint) therefore Collingwood cupcakes.
They were good.
Then we saw some of our other footy mad friends on Sunday arvo, and I received a whole plate full of leftover cakes from their grand final footy party the day before.
There was a combination of tiramisu, white chocolate cheesecake and also chocolate cupcakes with chocolate icing, and white choc bits throughout it, to represent the Maggies.
YYUUUUMMMMMMMMMMMMMM.
All soooooo good.
So this whole week I have been having, like, 2 cakes a day. Taking them to work, eating it with dinner/lunch.
Today I've come in to work, and it's my boss' birthday. And guess what is on one of the benches here: small little teeny tiny cupcakes.
YUM!
I've just eaten one, and thank goodness for it's size as they are so incredibly sweet. The icing is so sweet, it makes the vanilla flavoured Melbourne black tea I'm drinking not taste so sweet. And I have sugar in the tea.
Now that's sweet.
Funnily enough I was observing my bare midriff before having a shower earlier today, astonished by myself at the fact that with no willpower, and no considerate focused effort, my little womanly bump that was once my stomach has gotten smaller.
I know I shouldn't be so picky with myself (but I am me, and I'm allowed to be how I like I think) but in my dangeorus pursuit of perfection, I want to have a flat tummy. I've seen supermodels on the catwalk with a similar type stomach to mine: you know the one that has a slight bulb in the lower stomach? It's just genetics and the type of body you have. I know that. But it's still not good enough for me. And seeing supermodels like that made me feel a little better. But I'm Miss S and I'm stupidly difficult.
So should I eat more cake? Will that do it? LOL. Can you imagine the joy for women around the world "Eat more cake, you will get a flat belly!"
As much as I wished that were the case for me and my fellow women around the world, I have a feeling that it's more to do with my changed lifestyle since marriage: eating less carbs (mum used to stuff me with them), doing housework (I was a princess at home with my parents) and also the stairs at home. Yes those stairs, the stupid ones I fell down. When I walk properly and I'm not tripping over stupid slippers, I walk up and down the stairs, and I think all this combined eating differently, and being physically-active activity has done it. And an attitude of constantly looking at my midriff and saying "it's flatter."
Honestly, I do not lie, I really believe that saying postive affirmations to yourself works. But you have to take steps towards reaching your goal as well. Which in a roundabout way, I have done.
So, how did I get from deliciously sweet cakes to my stomach?
I don't care. All I care about is that I have one of my Collingwood cupcakes waiting for me in my locker, to have as dessert after my dinner tonight...... :-D
I made Collingwood inspired cupcakes on Friday night, in support of my team ACTUALLY winning. But that didn't happen. We still enjoyed the cupcakes though. I bought (most of) them to the grand final party Hubbie and I were invited to: they were a chocolate quick-mix cupcake with a dark chocolate ganache as frosting, and white chocolate melts and white chocolate bits as decoration, to give the effect of a 'magic mushroom' as the recipe called it. But I looked at it as black and white colours, (if you squint) therefore Collingwood cupcakes.
They were good.
Then we saw some of our other footy mad friends on Sunday arvo, and I received a whole plate full of leftover cakes from their grand final footy party the day before.
There was a combination of tiramisu, white chocolate cheesecake and also chocolate cupcakes with chocolate icing, and white choc bits throughout it, to represent the Maggies.
YYUUUUMMMMMMMMMMMMMM.
All soooooo good.
So this whole week I have been having, like, 2 cakes a day. Taking them to work, eating it with dinner/lunch.
Today I've come in to work, and it's my boss' birthday. And guess what is on one of the benches here: small little teeny tiny cupcakes.
YUM!
I've just eaten one, and thank goodness for it's size as they are so incredibly sweet. The icing is so sweet, it makes the vanilla flavoured Melbourne black tea I'm drinking not taste so sweet. And I have sugar in the tea.
Now that's sweet.
Funnily enough I was observing my bare midriff before having a shower earlier today, astonished by myself at the fact that with no willpower, and no considerate focused effort, my little womanly bump that was once my stomach has gotten smaller.
I know I shouldn't be so picky with myself (but I am me, and I'm allowed to be how I like I think) but in my dangeorus pursuit of perfection, I want to have a flat tummy. I've seen supermodels on the catwalk with a similar type stomach to mine: you know the one that has a slight bulb in the lower stomach? It's just genetics and the type of body you have. I know that. But it's still not good enough for me. And seeing supermodels like that made me feel a little better. But I'm Miss S and I'm stupidly difficult.
So should I eat more cake? Will that do it? LOL. Can you imagine the joy for women around the world "Eat more cake, you will get a flat belly!"
As much as I wished that were the case for me and my fellow women around the world, I have a feeling that it's more to do with my changed lifestyle since marriage: eating less carbs (mum used to stuff me with them), doing housework (I was a princess at home with my parents) and also the stairs at home. Yes those stairs, the stupid ones I fell down. When I walk properly and I'm not tripping over stupid slippers, I walk up and down the stairs, and I think all this combined eating differently, and being physically-active activity has done it. And an attitude of constantly looking at my midriff and saying "it's flatter."
Honestly, I do not lie, I really believe that saying postive affirmations to yourself works. But you have to take steps towards reaching your goal as well. Which in a roundabout way, I have done.
So, how did I get from deliciously sweet cakes to my stomach?
I don't care. All I care about is that I have one of my Collingwood cupcakes waiting for me in my locker, to have as dessert after my dinner tonight...... :-D
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Crazy Eye Update
So, the crazy eye is still here. I thought perhaps that all the right-eye twitching was a premonition of the highly unlikely and rare, ill-fated DRAW that was seen on Saturday that my team the Maggies was a participant of, as the twitching seemed to mildly subside following that horrific event.
However after some subtle twitches, I realised it was still there.
Then yesterday, I fell down the stairs at my house (yes, I actually FELL DOWN THE STAIRS HEAD-FIRST NO LESS) but today the right eye is still a-twitching.
I don't know what to think, it's been going on for at least a month now. I'm worried that it may be a future predictor of the grand final replay on this Saturday, and going by my mum's definitions of eye twitching, that it won't be a happy ending. I just don't know whether my eye is so clever that it can actually foresee an event as huge as this one.
Or maybe it isn't anything bad..... perhaps it's even a good sign. An extremely good sign that something awesome is coming....
I did do my taxes today, and I'm getting $$$ back! YAY! It may not be heaps, but any shopping money, is good money.
:-D
Maybe my little financial windfall is the beginning of some amazing monetary rewards.
Ahhh, the shopping possibilities.
But, then again, my right arm is actually somewhat damaged (I don't know how much) from my very random fall down the stairs yesterday. Maybe the twitching was a predictor of.... that.
Ugh.
Yuck. I don't like thinking of my eye as an evil forcaster of random stupid events happening to me. It makes me feel creeped out.
Creepy crazy eye. Don't make me fly down stairs and have my team draw in the most unlikely of events.
Give me $$$.
However after some subtle twitches, I realised it was still there.
Then yesterday, I fell down the stairs at my house (yes, I actually FELL DOWN THE STAIRS HEAD-FIRST NO LESS) but today the right eye is still a-twitching.
I don't know what to think, it's been going on for at least a month now. I'm worried that it may be a future predictor of the grand final replay on this Saturday, and going by my mum's definitions of eye twitching, that it won't be a happy ending. I just don't know whether my eye is so clever that it can actually foresee an event as huge as this one.
Or maybe it isn't anything bad..... perhaps it's even a good sign. An extremely good sign that something awesome is coming....
I did do my taxes today, and I'm getting $$$ back! YAY! It may not be heaps, but any shopping money, is good money.
:-D
Maybe my little financial windfall is the beginning of some amazing monetary rewards.
Ahhh, the shopping possibilities.
But, then again, my right arm is actually somewhat damaged (I don't know how much) from my very random fall down the stairs yesterday. Maybe the twitching was a predictor of.... that.
Ugh.
Yuck. I don't like thinking of my eye as an evil forcaster of random stupid events happening to me. It makes me feel creeped out.
Creepy crazy eye. Don't make me fly down stairs and have my team draw in the most unlikely of events.
Give me $$$.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Lost In Limbo
Standing there, watching the big screen, wide-eyed.
Bubbles sparkling in the glass of my cold hand.
Drinking so to do something, anything, to preoccupy myself and to ease the tension, the insurmountable knots in the pit of my stomach that I'm feeling.
Watching the men on screen, run and fall and jump and kick.
My heart beats increase by the second. I'm sure I'm having palpitations.
My free hand grasps at what's in front of me: it thrusts forward when my guys have the ball; it clutches at the air when they run for it, somehow hoping my unseen hand will help to make the incredible, the seemingly impossible happen.
I feel wheezy. Faint. Distant rings make their presence in my ears. I hold onto the adjoining shelf, other hand desperately clutching the now-flat bubbly. The champagne has lost it's purpose: it should be there as a celebratory sign, rather it's use is to numb the shattering shock of it all.
I crouch down. The sudden light-headedness is too much for me. I manage to lift my head to observe the screen, willing the team to fight forward, to make the dreams and hopes of so many thousands and thousands of followers become reality.
I can hear the blood of my heart, pounding in my ears. My breath is ragged. I chant quietly under my breath "Collingwood, Collingwood, Collingwood..."
I stand up. We scream, holler and yell at them. We pump our fists in the air with excitement, and then we stare in shock, bowing our heads and muttering under our breaths.
When the siren sounds, there are yells of incredulousness spreading around the room. Some laugh, some yell.
I stare, open-mouthed at the score.
68-68.
It's a draw.
And now, after all the hoping and the praying, the excitement and the despair, we must wait one whole week to see the Pies meet the Saints again, to settle the score.
Shoot me now.
Bubbles sparkling in the glass of my cold hand.
Drinking so to do something, anything, to preoccupy myself and to ease the tension, the insurmountable knots in the pit of my stomach that I'm feeling.
Watching the men on screen, run and fall and jump and kick.
My heart beats increase by the second. I'm sure I'm having palpitations.
My free hand grasps at what's in front of me: it thrusts forward when my guys have the ball; it clutches at the air when they run for it, somehow hoping my unseen hand will help to make the incredible, the seemingly impossible happen.
I feel wheezy. Faint. Distant rings make their presence in my ears. I hold onto the adjoining shelf, other hand desperately clutching the now-flat bubbly. The champagne has lost it's purpose: it should be there as a celebratory sign, rather it's use is to numb the shattering shock of it all.
I crouch down. The sudden light-headedness is too much for me. I manage to lift my head to observe the screen, willing the team to fight forward, to make the dreams and hopes of so many thousands and thousands of followers become reality.
I can hear the blood of my heart, pounding in my ears. My breath is ragged. I chant quietly under my breath "Collingwood, Collingwood, Collingwood..."
I stand up. We scream, holler and yell at them. We pump our fists in the air with excitement, and then we stare in shock, bowing our heads and muttering under our breaths.
When the siren sounds, there are yells of incredulousness spreading around the room. Some laugh, some yell.
I stare, open-mouthed at the score.
68-68.
It's a draw.
And now, after all the hoping and the praying, the excitement and the despair, we must wait one whole week to see the Pies meet the Saints again, to settle the score.
Shoot me now.
Monday, September 20, 2010
20 years in waiting....(I strongly apologise for this sport-focused post, but I must)
No time for regrets, on with the show!
So, this week is going to be M-A-J-O-R. Super major in the lead-up to a monumental weekend.
The AFL team I support, good ol' Collingwood, is playing in the grand final this weekend against St. Kilda.
This is soooo major. AFL (Australian Rules Football) is a massive deal in Australia, none more so than in our fair city of Melbourne. The way the Americans go crazy over the NBA play-offs, is the way the folk here go mad over footy. I know this well because Hubbie would love to live in the U.S., purely for his game of b-ball.
It's a tough sport to play. I mean, our Aussie men are tough. And hot. They don't wear loads of protective body or head gear while on the ground playing. In fact, they wear none at all. Oh, well, when one of them has an injury and are still playing (because they're tough) they might have a helmet or a mouthguard to protect their injury. But otherwise, just their uniforms, just their nice fitted, tight, muscle-enhancing uniforms (!)
I follow perhaps one of the most loved and hated teams in the AFL, as before mentioned, the Collingwood Magpies. I think one of the reasons that they are hated so much is because of their strong, passionate following of devotees, and the fact that they are quite possibly the most popular AFL team of all time, with the most supporters. You know, tall poppy syndrome and all that? The haters just can't take it :)
And so this coming weekend is the culmination of what we 'pies supporters have been looking forward to ALL year. In fact, the last 20 YEARS. 1990 was the last time they won an AFL premiereship, and all mighty, they, and we the supporters, are sooooo hungry for it.
I'm fearful, however, because the Saints haven't won a premiereship for almost 50 years (ouch!), and I'm afraid that they'll use that fuel to propel them towards.....you know. Gulp.
Not to say that the 'pies don't have fuel of their own. They were in 2 finals in the last decade of which they lost both, to the same freakin team! Watching your teams' dreams be shattered 2 years in a row is very difficult to swallow. In fact it's tear-jerking, pain-inducing, and all round the worst thing that can happen in the last week of September.
I don't think I could go through this weekend, watching the 'pies lose. I think it would actually shatter me, affect me to a point where I would be a changed person and not ever fully recover from the loss.
So that's why they must win. For me. And for the thousands of supporters out there that have been waiting for this moment for so long.
COME ON 'PIES!!!!!
So, this week is going to be M-A-J-O-R. Super major in the lead-up to a monumental weekend.
The AFL team I support, good ol' Collingwood, is playing in the grand final this weekend against St. Kilda.
This is soooo major. AFL (Australian Rules Football) is a massive deal in Australia, none more so than in our fair city of Melbourne. The way the Americans go crazy over the NBA play-offs, is the way the folk here go mad over footy. I know this well because Hubbie would love to live in the U.S., purely for his game of b-ball.
It's a tough sport to play. I mean, our Aussie men are tough. And hot. They don't wear loads of protective body or head gear while on the ground playing. In fact, they wear none at all. Oh, well, when one of them has an injury and are still playing (because they're tough) they might have a helmet or a mouthguard to protect their injury. But otherwise, just their uniforms, just their nice fitted, tight, muscle-enhancing uniforms (!)
I follow perhaps one of the most loved and hated teams in the AFL, as before mentioned, the Collingwood Magpies. I think one of the reasons that they are hated so much is because of their strong, passionate following of devotees, and the fact that they are quite possibly the most popular AFL team of all time, with the most supporters. You know, tall poppy syndrome and all that? The haters just can't take it :)
And so this coming weekend is the culmination of what we 'pies supporters have been looking forward to ALL year. In fact, the last 20 YEARS. 1990 was the last time they won an AFL premiereship, and all mighty, they, and we the supporters, are sooooo hungry for it.
I'm fearful, however, because the Saints haven't won a premiereship for almost 50 years (ouch!), and I'm afraid that they'll use that fuel to propel them towards.....you know. Gulp.
Not to say that the 'pies don't have fuel of their own. They were in 2 finals in the last decade of which they lost both, to the same freakin team! Watching your teams' dreams be shattered 2 years in a row is very difficult to swallow. In fact it's tear-jerking, pain-inducing, and all round the worst thing that can happen in the last week of September.
I don't think I could go through this weekend, watching the 'pies lose. I think it would actually shatter me, affect me to a point where I would be a changed person and not ever fully recover from the loss.
So that's why they must win. For me. And for the thousands of supporters out there that have been waiting for this moment for so long.
COME ON 'PIES!!!!!
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