Tom got the job!

I knew he would. In the same way that I just knew we were home when we first inspected this flat, I just felt like this position was his before he even sent the application.

I am just so damn proud of him.

I never really thought of myself in Darwin. Like most 20-something's in Adelaide, when I thought of relocating my imagination jumped straight to Melbourne, where all of Adelaide's creatives seem to end up. I don't know a lot about Darwin, I've been there only once when I stayed a night on my way back from Wadeye (perhaps I'll tell you about that trip sometime). I never really thought of myself as a summer person, per se, and now we're heading up to live in the land of perpetual summer. And yet I am so ridiculously excited. I have that same feeling about Darwin; that feeling that this is right. That we will love it and make it our home.

I am so excited for this next chapter of our lives.

Mind, matter & Melbourne

I didn't want to leave the last post lingering there like that. It has no reflection on how I feel most of the time. Right now I'm floating on clouds. When I wrote that, I was waiting for medication to kick in after five days of missing them and dealing with the associated withdrawals. I had been crying at the drop of a hat, spent a day in bed, yelled at Tom for being perfectly lovely on more than one occasion and entirely lost perspective. I knew that I needed my medication, but I continued to skip it because a couple of days without and I'd entirely forgotten the last time I felt joyful. I'm my own worst enemy in withdrawal. I actually didn't hit publish on that post until I was back to feeling myself, but something made me feel like I should actually put it out there rather than delete yet another ill-advised draft. My anxiety has become such a strong influence in my life that it feels just plain silly to hide it in shame. It is what it is. Most days I feel in control, but every now and then it rears it's ugly head and leaves me feeling impotent. I don't need to pretend otherwise; I'm proud of how far I've come. It was only a couple of years ago that I could barely leave the house because the fear was just so overwhelming.

As always in the last million months, my reasoning behind the lateness of this follow-up is that we're still sharing my computer since that incident wherein I stupidly threw a bottle of vodka into Tom's bag not realising that his computer was inside just waiting to be smashed. In this past week, Tom has been writing the application and then preparing for the interview that he had this morning. I don't want to jinx anything, but it somehow feels like this is the job. We'll find out really soon, so fingers crossed.

I spent two blissful days wandering and writing and at my own pace. In the mornings, I walked the dog in the Botanic Gardens. We sat at the cafe and watched the gondolas and Mr Biggles attracted the attention of many adoring strangers. I wrote, for the first time in far too long, simply for the sake of putting words to paper. I wandered up Swan Street and ate a delicious fish taco at Fonda. I spent a long while immersing myself in the beautiful art at the NGV. I sat a table in Degraves sipping delicious coffee, listening to a great busker and reading The Happiness Project. I caught up with an old boyfriend and met his lovely new lady. Returning to Adelaide, I felt so refreshed and inspired, so lucky for the flexibility in my life that allows brief escapes like this.

summer

My blog feels unfamiliar and writing strangely daunting. I give it yet another new face and hope that the words will flood to me when promised a quiet sanctuary. The new space takes on the peace and minimalism that I wish I could bring to my own head. There is so much noise; it will be days before the din quells into a quiet rumble.

I lose sense of time. My head throbs in pain and my boyfriend looks at me with fear and sadness in his eyes. My days are a blur upon reflection. I cannot distinguish the overarching feeling of the time; through the fog I remember long lunches in the sunshine, interesting conversations with strangers, nights spent cuddling and planning with my love. But I also remember letting five days pass without taking essential care of and sobbing quietly in the car home from my brother's wonderful 21st dinner when barely minutes before I had been laughing gaily and teasing my siblings.

An old friend picks me up and we follow the road to the sea. My father lived here once, not so long ago, but we do not pass his old home. Port Willunga has never looked so beautiful. I didn't realise how much I needed to see the sea and run around on the beach. The sun browns my skin as we wade out deep into the clear water. I cannot remember the last time I was in the sea, but I feel as though I could stay here for the rest of time. I sink down and let the water consume me. It is blissful oblivion and I could be the only person in the whole world. We splash and laugh and I am teased for my poor catching skills. I bond with my friend's twelve-year-old sister and carry her around on my back so she can catch the ball on my behalf.

Back at the house we delight in a long, lazy lunch and grand conversation. I am the only person at the table who has yet to live in a non-English speaking country and a burning desire to catch a plane right now comes over me momentarily. I remind myself that my adventures with Tom are only just beginning. I quietly plan our next adventure, caught by a lust for a change of scenery.

I wish every day of summer could be defined by such beautiful surroundings and interesting folk.

foiled plans & kombucha

If everything had gone according to plan, today's post would recount what I am sure would have been a glorious long-weekend escape to the beach with friends. But life does not always go to plan. Sometimes that stomach flu that has apparently been "going around" hits you square between the eyes and wakes you in the dead of night screaming "I AM HERE! FUCK YOU AND ALL OF YOUR AWESOME PLANS, YOU WON A TRIP TO VOMIT TOWN!"

Tom had it three days earlier, and I was so certain that I'd made a lucky escape (admittedly a fantasy when living in the small quarters of a one-bedroom flat) that was excitedly picking out books to read on the beach and buying Tanqueray and Rekorderlig to drink over interesting (and later, ridiculous) conversation during those balmy nights out on the deck.

Alas, it was not to be. (I wish I could honestly say I use the word alas in my day-to-day vocabulary, but most of the time I just waste the opportunity by using a swear word in it's place.) We spent Australia Day on the couch watching The Matrix Trilogy, which I somehow managed not to see in the fifteen years since it's release, which is unfortunate because of all the Thomas Anderson references I could have made throughout the last two years. Other than those misses opportunities to tease my boyfriend, though, I don't feel like I missed out on a great deal. The first was good, but the other two? Whole sequences of CGI people with jelly-limbs hitting each other? Twenty minutes on a single chase scene that wasn't remotely necessary to the development of the plot? Machines and computer programmes with an inexplicable will to live? The first was enough; ignorance was bliss and I wish I could un-know the whole Architect/Oracle/One storyline and the stupid love story between Neo and Trinity. /accidental rant

 

In other exciting news, I finished my first batch of kombucha and I'm dorkishly proud of myself. I'm please that I have a boyfriend with a background in biology, because I needed him to assure me that none of the new growth around my SCOBY was bad, regardless of how ugly it appears. Even though I knew what kind of things to expect in a normal batch of kombucha, I was still anxious that I had somehow broken it and infected my SCOBY with horrors unknown. It reminds me a little of when I first started nannying the twin one-year-olds when I was eighteen. When they tripped and fell I would run and scoop them up, afraid I was doing a terrible job. It only took a week or so for me to become more relaxed and just let them pick themselves up and go along their merry way. Things are usually not as dire or serious as they might initially seem. I'm hoping that kombucha will become second nature to me and I won't be anxiously checking the progress of each batch multiple times a day.

I'll be honest, this first batch hedged a little close to the over-brewed, slightly vinegar stage. In an Adelaide summer like this I think it could use a day or two fewer to be of the beautiful tart standard of Mojo, especially with the mini heat wave we have to look forward to this week. I hope you're all well and that any of you Aussies had a more exciting/less sick Australia Day than I, but right now I really ought to get ready for work - I've made a terrible habit of being exactly two minutes late to work every day, but I think today shall be the day I break that streak and catch the earlier train.