a wild undertaking: January 2012

Okay. So I have been nudged to write more. I always tend to get slumpy at blogging when I feel like my life has gotten boring ... and not very 'wild undertaking'-y.

And yet, here I go.

If you don't feel like reading self indulgent weepiness, please skip to bits below, otherwise, put on some soft woolie socks, grab a box of tissues, and ready your DVD player with your favorite romantic comedy for afterwards ... and consider making yourself some hot cocoa ... you know, the kind with marshmallows (the big camping kind, not the inferior small ones, they melt too fast).

Here it is ... my 'I've been in Australia for two and a half months' weep. I am tremendously lonely. I have no qualms about doing things on my own. I am happy to do them, and they give me a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction, like 'look at me! I am a strong and indepenant woman who doesn't need anybody' but at the same time it is getting pretty stinkin' old.

Window shopping in the mall, movies at the theater, walks in the park, trips to the beach, sight seeing, and concerts, I've done them all on my own, on a pretty regular basis. I don't let my 'alone-ness' get in the way of my fun. But when I'm sitting at the dock in Freo, and a rather hefty and hairy guy walks past me sporting only the smallest of speedos, I only have myself to snicker with. I miss having friends. I've always been so lucky in the past that my roommates for the last six years of my life have all been my closest set of buddies. My gal pals to roam with, to have adventures with, to laugh and cry with. I miss that. I miss that a lot.

I bet you're all weeping right now, and getting ready to watch Grease just to make yourselves feel better.

I know, I know, I feel dumb for complaining. I have a wicked sweet job that's finally putting me on a career path, Liz is fantastic and we do stuff together. AND I get to live in a country where the citizens don't understand my accent and everyone thinks my name is Marly. I'm living an awesome life, and I am having tons of fun ... I am just really lonely too.

Okay weep fest over.

IF YOU SKIPPED ALL THAT, HERE'S A GOOD PLACE TO COME BACK IN AGAIN.

Before they could give me a job offer, I had to be able to pass a physical exam (pretty sure that it would be illegal for them to do that in States until after they have offered me a job - but since I passed, I'm not complaining). I called and set up my appointment, which was going to require a trip to the city.

I had the earliest appointment (I like being first) and caught the early bus into the city. I love going into the city because you have to cross the Swan River in order to get there. It's beautiful. It's summer here and so it's sunny every day (and well, there's also a hole in the Ozone right over my head, so that helps too ...) and the water is a brilliant blue, it reminds me a little bit of crossing Lake Washington in Seattle ... only, you know, with sunshine.

Every time I go to the city, somehow, I always seem to forget and find myself being reminded (with jaw open) that Perth is a proper city. It takes the sound of wobbly high heels and mobile phones accompanied by the smell of coffee in to-go cups and freshly applied cologne to remind me that I am just one small person amongst the giant buildings, fighting against the relentless current of men and women wearing business suits on their way to jobs that I hope are as important as they make themselves look.

Because I was the first appointment I was seen quickly and was taken to the physician who would be doing the Musculoskeletal bit of the examination. In my head I imagined that the test would comprise of this: Please touch your toes. Good. Now please lift this weight. But what my imagination lacked was a physician with same attitude as the guy who invented P90x. I came in ready to touch my toes, and his first request for me was to get down and start doing pushups.

Several pushups, as many sit ups as I could handle, swats, what Whitney likes to call 'the invisible chair' against the wall for two minutes on the stop watch (I'm good at those) and a full minute plank (those are hard really hard, and after a minute my arms were shaking) later, he was finally ready to have me touch my times ... and then had me do it five times more.

I laughed out loud when he deposited me to a different person for the next section of my exam, and she asked to take my blood pressure! I don't know if I really lost this in the previous section or what, but their scale said that I was about 4 kilos less than I actually weigh, but I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I kept quiet. Also, I am a few centimeters over 5'10" ... who knew?

After those things were out of the way, the nurse asked me if I had to go to the bathroom. I hesitated. I didn't have to go to the bathroom but I could. As I mulled this over in my head, she interrupted my thoughts by saying, "Don't worry, it's not for a drug test." Now. I'm not really sure how to take this. Do I look like someone who would need to worry if I was asked to take a drug test, OR did she decide that recreational drug use would be a good habit to pick up since I am returning to the world of residential care? Either way, I pretended like I didn't hear that, and said that I could go to the bathroom.

She took me to the bathroom and showed me these little pH strips that were to be put in the urine to check my protein, glucose, keytone levels and check for any blood. And then she showed me a Styrofoam cup ... you know, like coffee. I laughed really loud and said, "Sorry, haha, sorry, at first I thought you were telling me that I was going to have to pee in that haha!!" An awkward moment passed as I realized ... that yes, I was expected to pee in a styrofoam coffee cup. I did my business ... frankly feeling weird that I was peeing a cup that someone might also use to get water from in the lobby, and put the pH stick in the cup and pulled it out again. Apparently she was supposed to do that, but was okay with me having done it. She handled the stick, the cup, and the paper towel all without gloves. So no gloves and handling of pee-pee stuff combined with the use of a styrofoam cup in the use of urine analysis made me begin to doubt the legitimacy of this whole process.

My third and last stop was with a doctor who kept coughing and sputtering into her hands, then had me get on the table and touch me all over the place (checking my organs out), and then washed her hands after she had been touching me, instead of before.

I think that maybe Australians are as laid back about germs as they are in their personalities.

But no matter what, I've got the 'all clear' except for some annoying background checks that I have to get from the FBI in the States and from the Police Station that used to be across the street from my house in St. Croix. But all systems are GO, and I begin work for the Department for Child Protection here in Perth February 13.

Christmas was beautiful in Perth. Filled with fun, giggles, pounds of Christmas pudding with custard (for those who don't know, Christmas pudding, isn't pudding, it's like a cake), dozens of fruit mince pies, shortbread and pavlova and strawberries. Haha, I think it's time to go back to loosing weight.

But it was genuinely great. Up-to Christmas Liz and I would drive to different spots that have lights up after we both had gotten home from work. Lights are interesting here, because very few homes actually decorate for the holidays (at least not the way that we do in the States), however ... when they do decorate ... they go ALL OUT, so while there aren't very many homes to look at (and you have to drive all over the metropolitan area to find them) the ones you do find are elaborately decorated.

The first time that we saw a decked out house, it was 10pm and Liz did a quick u-turn to take a look, and I assumed we would just drive by really slowly ... the way we look at lights in the States. Instead ... Liz parked in the driveway (of the stranger's house), got out, and proceeded to walk towards the house and into their front yard. I just stood there not sure what to do. Especially since I saw the owner out of the corner of my eye, outside stringing up the last little sets of lights, and Liz was making a beeline for her window to take a peak inside her house! This definitely isn't how we do things in the States, where we stick to the street and footpath (sidewalk), and stay clear of people's actual homes. So I just stood there by the car not sure what to do ... or how to handle the inevitable fight that I was sure was going to happen.

The owner, a woman, spotted Liz, approached her, and instead of coming to fisticuffs for the invasion of privacy ... stood and seemed to be having a friendly little chat with Liz. After a few moments, I finally decided that I should join them. The exterior of her home and her tiered front garden were covered, and I mean every inch was covered in fairy lights (twinkle lights). It was beautiful. As I approached the two women, Liz was asking if she could go inside the house, and I could hear Christmas music playing loudly, as the front door opened.

Definitely not how I am used to doing things.

Within a few minutes I found myself in a strangers home at 10pm, Fleiz Navidad playing out of two large speakers by the front door. And I was absolutely breathless. You might assume that I was that way because I was nervous about how odd it was to invite yourself into a stranger's home at 10pm, but I was absolutely breathless because I could not believe what I saw. The owner's parlor had been completely transformed from a room with two couches and a TV to a different world. The TV was covered up because a large flat high surface (maybe specifically constructed) mostly covered it as well as most of the room except for a small path leading to the rest of the house. And every centimeter of that surface was covered in small little Christmas snow themed ceramics depicting a beautiful and detailed little European Christmas glittering town. It looked like a small scale model for a claymation movie. It was a beautiful little set up complete with fake snow, and even moving parts. I felt like a small child oooh and aaahhing over it. Noticing ever small little detail. It was intricate and beautiful, and I genuinely wonder where they store it for the rest of the year.

The woman chatted with us, and offered up her lolly jar that came complete with little candy canes. She spoke with a thick accent that I couldn't quite place, but I think that she might be Italian, or maybe Portuguese. We left to go home after a good 15 minute chat.

Definitely not how we do things in the States, but I LOVED it.

On Christmas day itself, we went to church in the morning, and then afterwards we went to Blair and Naomi Major's home for the rest of the day (seriously we were there for 12 hours). We laughed, we cooked (I blanched beans for the first time ... I didn't even know what it meant), and had turkey AND ham AND fish, and all sorts of treats in between. My contribution for the Christmas meal that I had brought from home was a quinoa, pecan, cranberry, and dill salad ... which was phenomenal, if I do say so myself! ;) At their home, I met Blair's parents who within a few hours of meeting me, invited me down to Bunburry, where they said they'd put me in a queen sized bed and show me around town! (and I'm going to take them up on their offer, Bunburry is two hours south of Perth ... and coincidentally, still a part of my Stake).

All in all, Christmas was pretty great.

I don't know how well you can see it ... because my flash
didn't work, but this is CLASSIC Aussie Christmas garb
shorts, singlet (wife beater), flannel, and Santa hat

The welcome sign has a donation 'wishing well' where people
throw in a few coins when they go through, a lot of homes
do this, and all proceeds got to Princess Margaret Hospital
(the children's hospital in Perth)

Again. Classic. This is a bunch of Aussie kids strolling down the street
wearing classic Christmas hats (that you get from those little pully things)
and walking around barefoot (a very Aussie thing)
and definitely dressed for the summer season! ;) (they posed for this pic)