| « | June 2008 | » | ||||
 |
||||||
| S | M | T | W | T | F | S |
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |
| 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 |
| 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 |
| 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 |
| 29 | 30 | |||||
Esto ha sido cuatro días desde devolver de Cairns. Mi vida regresaba a normal. Trabajar fue muy loco la semana pasado. Afortunado las ventas de la tienda es mejorar.
Siento un poco triste porque el próximo viaje será mucho tiempo más. Creo estoy acostumbrado un vida con mucho viajes, ahora yo se seré alojarse en Melbourne por tres meses, siento un poco extraño.
a-okVisiting North Queensland felt like a trip to a different country. It was a very good getaway from the chills of Melbourne winter, and being in the humid tropics often give me a sense of déjà vu and a touch of home sickness.
I spent 2 days on a boat on the outer reefs of the Great Barrier Reef. Boat life was very interesting apart from the many moments when I was sea sick. Most passengers on my boat were young Americans and I spent my days huddling up with several lone travellers. I dived mostly with Sebastian and Stefan from Germany and Matt from Minnesota, USA. Matt was the first passenger I met and I was fairly fond of him. He was a 22 year old lad – I’d imaged boys like him are still inclined to be driven by testosterone rather than intelligence, yet on the boat whilst he was surrounded by pretty young things but he chose to hang around with a rotund old auntie like myself. He did, nevertheless occasionally let loose his real opinion of me, ‘Did you intentionally chose a suit one size too small?’ he asked dryly when he watch me battling the zip of my wetsuit with great amusement. Sebastian was a young German gap year student and he would always emerge from the water with his face and lips purple, but two times more oxygen left in his tank than everyone else. We wondered if he had some magical system in his body to turn off oxygen supply to his face while diving, but we also suspect that he was stealing air from our backup regulator when we’re not watching. Bes from the Netherlands was one of the dive crew and he had tattooed on his right shin the words “cˆ?cˆ??? ??Š”. “It means ‘Love, Father, Mother, Respect’ doesn’t it?” he asked excitedly. I agreed diplomatically – I did not have the heart to tell him that the grammar is completely off the charts and no self-respecting Chinese would ever inscribe the four words in the order in which now permanently adorned his leg.
While I had been long excited about the prospect of diving in this world famous natural wonder, it grieves me deeply to note that the reef appears to be in a fairly poor condition. The influx of thoughtless tourists who are more concerned having a good time and not too bothered about getting a grip on their buoyancy is taking a severe toll on the health of marine life form. I saw this elderly stout American dude struggling to balance himself, and while he did not intentionally crash into the corals I do wish he’ll polish his diving skills before endangering the surroundings. I felt my heart break as I watch this flabby tub of human flesh kick his clumsy flippers into the fragile reef causing a huge piece of coral to fracture, sinking sombrely into the depth of the ocean.
On the 3rd day in North Queensland I spontaneously hired a car to check out the surrounding regions of Cairns. I visited the lovely Port Douglas, disappointing Mereeba, beautiful Barron falls, cute little Kuranda Village and had dinner at a cosy family restaurant on a remote beach north of the airport before heading back to Melbourne. The day went fairly fine and dandy but I did have a pretty noteworthy episode on my drive out of Cairns in the morning. 30 minutes on the road and I was eager for a lookout point to stretch my legs and rest my eyes. I was driving up this curvy mountain road and saw the entrance to ‘Rex’s Lookout’ and quickly signalled and turned sharply to my left. A colourful minivan was following closely behind my shiny Toyota Camry, shortly after the turn-off I swerved into the only lot left in the small parking bay. I didn’t think the driver of the minivan was too impressed with my impetuous moves but as long as he’s cursing under his breath and not in my face, I was happy to live with the guilt of being a reckless driver.
“That was some fast driving there!” Greg said as he saw me skipping down the grassy knoll of the lookout. I had done more than my fair share of bad driving but this is the first time I have to face the victim of my deed. “You think really fast don’t you,” I think he was being really tactful, “you think and you react straight away – a sign of good driving I’d say!”
“You really mean to say, a sure sign of bad driving, don’t you,” I apologised meekly.
It turned out that Greg was a hang gliding guru; he was there to sweep a young lady off her feet and into the abyss of infinity. Since I was such a ‘good’ driver Greg asked if I’ve ever attempted hang gliding before. I told him I did try earlier this year in Byron Bay but it didn’t happen due to unsuitable wind conditions. Greg said he was from Byron Bay and there were only 4 people who hang glided there – Neil, Ashley, Brian and a 4th person. I said it was Neil that I’ve met and Greg said they know each other and he’s worked with Neil before. Small world – it’s kind of scary. I impulsively rented a car to hastily stop at a lookout then unexpectedly met someone who actually knew a person from a not-too-distant past.
Life had been rough on me lately and while I am trying hard to appreciate the fact that being alive and healthy is one of the biggest blessing I can asked for right now, getting away from routine was great fun and meeting new people certainly helped widen perspective. The best part of this getaway was the time I spent on the boat when the sea was calm and I stared into the ocean spellbound by the waves thinking of all possibilities in life. The worst part of the getaway was the time I spent on the boat when the sea was rough and I stared into the plastic sheet that feebly separates me from the raging waves, mesmerised by the sea foam at the same time my stomach threatening mutiny and my glorious life flashes by before my eyes.
Things are slipping out of my hands and I hate it that I have no control over the imminent loss, just as majority of events that were meaningful to me in my life. I reckon the splendour of such an existence is its unpredictability and fragility. I wish for a bigger hand, a stronger grip, I wish that the things that mattered weren’t as slippery as they were.
a-ok¡El primero fin de semana sin trabajar desde cinco semanas pasada! En realidad, desde regrese de mi vacaciones. De repente, no sé que mi debería hacer con el tiempo.
La ciudad en un fin de semana es muy diferente de durante la semana. Hay más personas en todas partes, todas tiendas abrir más tarde, todas cosas mover más despacio.
Ayer, fui al mercado Victoria. Compre muchas verduras y pescados para comida. En la tarde, con Sheirly mi amiga, fuimos vino saboreando en el sur de Melbourne. También, tuvimos un café con un poco pastel. Estuvo un poco divertirse.
downCon frecuencia creo que vida es muy difícil. Hoy es uno de esos día.
Estoy muy triste ahora. Mi trabajar es crecimiento estimulante. Siento cansado con mucha frecuencia, se extraño Ben, y me odio para eso.
Cada día pasado, deseo mi suerte posible mejorar. Pero yo se la vida es usualmente imprevisible. La mañana, posible se mejorar, posible se empeorar.
a-okEl servicio estuvo bien. Estará con optimismo seguir bien por mucho tiempo.
Estuve todo el día en Victoria Garden. Por lo menos yo reserve las boleras para nuestro acontecimiento la próxima semana. También, compre un poco pan, un par de vela rojas de Ikea para bueno Feng Shui. Estuvo divertirse.
El masaje tuve estuvo bueno, gracias dio. Hubo estaba un poco mal por mucho tiempo.
a-okUn día normal, trabajar todo el día, clase de español en la noche.
La mañana, estaré traer mi carro a centro de servicio. Estoy un poco nervioso porque el carro no tiene algún servicio por mucho tiempo – demasiado mucho tiempo.
Cuando esperando para el servicio de mi carro, iré natación, comprando un poco cosas para mi casa, quizás tener un masaje.
Ahora tengo hambre otra vez. No hice mucho hoy pero mi apetito es aumentando.
cheekyDoctor G got fairly excited when he saw a Chinese girl walk into his office. Good on him, he was able to tell straight away that I was ethnic Chinese, not Japanese/ Korean/ Vietnamese. During the ten minutes I spent telling him the long story of how I ended up at his office, he managed to slip in the fact that he’s spent 7 years in Hong Kong (which explained his excitement on seeing me). I didn’t think he was bragging nor was he a boastful man, but he seemed genuinely unaware of the potential implications of the words he was churning out of his mouth at 300 sentence a minute.
I spent a total of around 150 minutes at the dentist’s office and let’s see how many Asian/ Chinese clichés I had been dealt with then…
· You root canals are so tiny… it reminded me why I didn’t stay in Hong Kong to be a dentist as Chinese teeth are smaller and…
· I can’t read your fortune, I’m a dentist. If you need your fortune told you need to use that bamboo thingy at the temple
· How on earth did a girl at your age managed to crack her tooth so badly? You must have had one too many chicken bones. It’s the Chinese diet isn’t it?
· I appreciate your feeling – in Hong Kong if the dentist doesn’t give the patient treatment at the first visit they’ll probably never return
· I’m sorry you must be used to the Asian style of doing business when everything happens so fast and quickly
· I think in Singapore they’re trying to flood the market with dentists too, like the rest of Asia. In this way all dentist will have to work longer hours for less money
Don’t get me wrong, the dentist was such a amiable and endearing fellow, but it was deeply ironic that throughout all most of the time spent on the dentist’s chair I had my mouth wide open but was completely incapable of rebuking the clichés nor attempt in any way defend myself. If I wasn’t so caught up in the miseries of having a major root canal treatment on a tooth that went bad purely due to bad luck (those who had lived with me would know the amount of time I spent looking after my teeth daily), I would have been laughing out loud half the time.
Before I left, I returned my share of irony/ cliché to his practise. I gave the dentist a box of sugary biscuits.
hungry
vegas luckyI have 200,866 miles on my frequent flyer programme. 39,133 miles more, and I’ll be able to book on a round-the-world ticket on business class! I can’t think of anything else in the immediate horizon of my life that can potentially thrill me more than the prospect of that stupendous free-flight redemption.
don't askSomebody shoot me please!
downEach time I plan an entry to this blog I force myself to think happy thoughts. It appears to me that all desires to write creatively simply do not thrive on positivity. During the period where my blog entry was dry and minimal I was busy having the time of my life. Now as each night I crawl back into my nest licking the wounds of the day in the cold comfort of solitude, I type out my misery and post it to the void hoping that someone out there actually reads this and for that split second of their life feel sympathetic towards my sorry self.
“I do not envy your position at all,” she said as I poured out woes of my employment to a new found friend. I told her more. I unleased all my recent thoughts on Ben, how resentful I feel towards him for having so little courage. A flood gate opens and I yabbered on and on and tried the patience of a person whom prior to this evening knew little of my private life. I managed to hold myself when I thought about the disappointment I faced since returning from Egypt. “We’ve got to have faith you know. It’s so hard; it’s like having an endless stream of bad dates then you find yourself hitting the jackpot with this dude only to find it an anticlimax,”
Tomorrow there will be a new guy in my life. He is young, driven, well groomed and attractive. Much as I would like to say that I was describing a new love, he is in fact a new employee. I’m placing all my hopes on this young fellow that perhaps in months to come he’ll have the guts to take on my position giving me finally the opportunity to plan a good long escape to the arms of this wonderful world. I don’t want to be stuck to this stupid lousy job no more. I want to leave; I want to see more parts of this beautiful planet; I want to fall in love with new people. So tonight I go to bed in hope and only time can demonstrate what other anticlimax there is in-stall for me.
I felt a rush of something
It could be precious it could be nothing
But it brought me back to the living
And my heart begins desiring
He was a stranger in passing
There was no time it was not promising
But I gave in when I wasn't guarding
He was beautiful when he was smiling
I felt a rush of something
As I stood there I watched him leaving
I resent myself for yearning
In the end it was just disappointing
I was first introduced to the idea of a 'rip' in Chile. Apparently there are certain ocean currents that can drag an entity suddenly and fiercely hundreds of metres away from the shore into the deep water.
Thank goodness I have never experienced this frightening phenomenon in my lifetime though I feel that a similar word should be created to define a more abstract form of a 'rip'. For example, I was caught in a mental 'rip' when my sanity departs me in a manner and speed that my physical being could never had anticipated.
The melody of Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No 2 had been floating at the back of my mind lately. I really only like the first movement because it is the most melancholic bit of the entire composition and depicts my current state of mind to such perfection.
This morning I turned on the radio and not long after I heard that familiar bell-like tolls on the piano. Was it my imagination or ABC Classic FM had so kindly give in to my secret desire to indulge in self-pity?
Apparently Rachmaninoff composed this piece towards the end of his depression years. That would explain the gloomy overture of the concerto that ends in a somewhat triumphal orchestration. I wonder the intention of such a progression was but a simple documentation of his recovery, or in an abstract sense an encouragement to all fellow wretched beings that if you hang on long enough something victorias could await at the end.
