Changed da house,
Changed da look.
BTW, my bathrobe's usually pink
and we don't have a fireplace.
Other than that,
it's pretty accurate...
Psst...click the words above to navigate.
Best viewed, unfortunately, in Internet Explorer.
Thursday, July 21, 2005
~ Meet Dr. Practical ~
Tony: I don't think there's just one person for everyone.
Me: You don't?
Tony: Yeah... Sharon (van Reyk) and I had a chat about this once. There must be at least... I dunno... six other people in the world you could be with, because people are getting married all the time, right?
Me: Uh huh...
Tony: You know, because if there's only one person in the whole world for you, then it'd be difficult to get married and all that...
Me: ...
Tony: What's wrong?
Me: Nothing. I just wanna thump the other 5 women right about now.
Sunday, July 10, 2005
~ Snoots R Us ~
I just got back from a gloriously chi-chi afternoon with 4 other ladies of better breeding than I, and together we had afternoon tea, a la Bree Van De Kamp.
I miss having a big(ger) city lifestyle. I really enjoyed this afternoon. I suggested we meet more regularly and start playing cards. Let Life imitate Wonderful TV Show.
I miss dressing up and playing grown-up. I'm too busy trying to be grown-up lately. I'm also trying to Fight the Frump. I know it's a pride issue, but one of the last things I want to do is let myself go, Aussie-style.
And become The Dag-Hag.
Quite difficult, when I'm reminded weekly how the beauty of the inside is what really counts at the end of the day.
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
~ 3-point Turn ~
Point One
While it took me about 15 minutes to get used to the instructor's car this morning and find the biting point on the clutch all over again, I managed to park decently, reverse decently, and do a 3-point turn all by myself thanks to the craziness that ensued on Sunday.
Feeling less ineffectual, but still not wholly liking driving that much although it seems it's all I talk about these days.
I'm turning into one of them!
Albeit 6 years too late!
Point Two
I reread what I wrote yesterday about Sunday's driving, and realise that Tony might look like an insensitive cow. He isn't, he wasn't, and if anything were truer, he was nothing but patience and gentleness throughout the time I was freaking out and dripping all over the steering wheel like... well... a girl.
Tonight, we settled yet another heap of finances. I know blogging about it must be terribly boring for you to read - and I can assure you that it's terribly boring to me as well. But here's the wonderful, heart-warming, absolutely gorgeous bit...
We were in the kitchen and I was talking to Tony about what I had mentioned earlier; I felt we were rushing along trying to get things done before the first half of this year and yet ironically there are couples out there who haven't even so much as written a will much less bought insurance.
Tony looked at me in all seriousness and told me a huge reason he's "rushing everything", is that if anything should happen to him now while I'm still not even a confirmed Australian PR, he wants to know that I will be well taken care of.
Now I know some of you out there have very definite ideas about what sexy is. But I'm telling you girls, THAT is probably one of the sexiest things anyone has ever said to me.
Point Three
As of this week, we're hoping to start eradicating my debt in a major way. And I can't tell you how wonderful that feels.
I start work tomorrow morning, so keep on praying and I'll keep you posted.
Monday, July 04, 2005
~ A verbal montage of Yesterday ~
Get into car, adjust seat, start engine, get into first gear, release handbrake, roll down the hill.
Neighbours' children tossing an oval ball wrapped with a dead pig.
Little girl walking obtuse dog.
Other neighbour walking big obtuse dog.
Car rolling downhill. Brake lights turn on. Ground to a halt as dog owners disentangle dogs, children continue playing and my car is in the middle of this.
I'm an L plater and no one is making this easier for me.
Manage to negotiate out of Great Valley of Ignorance. Make a U Turn, start to move uphill. Changing gears. Ball hits back of car. Car stalls on hill. I think I hit a small child with the back of my car while moving forward. Don't ask me how.
Start to make hillstart. Of course I roll backwards. I imagine that I'm gonna hit stupid kids and stupid dogs. Because by this juncture, I'm thoroughly stressed out and don't have the time to cool down and get perspective.
Drive on Northbourne Avenue. Husband casually tells me to pull over into petrol station. Small confusion. Car stalls again in the middle of nowhere. I've had it, I get out and order him to drive.
I burst into tears. From the time we leave the petrol station to the time we get on the highway, I am a Drip.
We pull into the carpark finally. The husband apologises but I am not comforted.
I get into church looking miserable. I can't sing the first 4 hymns.
I try again after worship. I reverse nicely. Nothing happens until he tells me to follow Marcel's car. Then he tells me later on that I have to turn left and do a sharp U-turn using a small corner, because I missed the turning. I tell him I was following Marcel. It turns out Marcel usually goes straight and I was supposed to turn right somewhere else.
So I try to do a sharp U-turn. And of course I don't make it. I end up doing a 3-point turn on a slightly slopey area even though I haven't learnt how to do it yet.
I park at the building where we have bible class, on the dirt that is now mostly mud. I quell the growing anger.
I take the time in bible class to recover. The lesson was dynamic. We make plans after class to have Laksa down the street with another family. I try to drive again.
Because I parked on a down slope and don't want to end up running into the Irish Club across the next carpark, I reverse. Then I straighten the car on the dirt and aim to drive straight then turn right. Husband tells me to turn left, get onto the concrete, then turn a sharp right, cutting across a 2-way street.
There is a big pot hole on my right. I get on the concrete. I see other cars backing up behind me.
The 2-way street is ridiculously busy for a Sunday afternoon.
I look to the right until it's clear, then I look to the left and it's clear, and then I look right one last time, look left again and pull out, and then the Husband says "Brake now!" but I'm already in the middle of the narrow two-way street while an idiot in a red car is heading toward me on my right, driving TOO QUICKLY in a small suburb street.
I scream. I turn the car. I make it to the other side. I let the car trundle to a halt as I pull over. I am definitely shaken.
I don't hear words like "It's not your fault." "You did well under the circumstances."
Most of all, I don't hear words like "It's okay. You're safe now. Nothing happened. It's all right. You're scared. Would you like me to drive."
I cannot imagine pulling into a supermarket parking lot after this and trying to park. I get out of the car and say "I cannot do this." He gets out of the car and says "You CAN do this." We swop sides. He's angry. I'm furious.
We reach the supermarket and park. I don't get out of the car. I don't want to have lunch. I don't want to make nice. I don't want to answer questions about the incident. I don't want to break down and cry in front of others. I want to sit in the car until my nerves are back under my skin. I want to know that I don't absolutely suck as a learner driver. I want the world to apologise to me for stupid red cars that come around corners way too fast. I want Australia to apologise to me for having a crap public transportation system.
I try to nail this somehow as the Husband's fault. I know that I can't. I get even more furious inside that I'm scared and I can't control how I feel at this point. I hate driving. The very core of me hates driving. Absolutely abhors it. I hate driving. I hate people who know how to drive. I hate manual cars and think they're the product of the devil.
We eventually go inside to look for the other family. Of course we don't find them. We end up in Laksa House by ourselves and order anything but Laksa. I reluctantly joined the husband in prayer for the food, but I can't say amen. I am still scared shitless and absolutely furious. I cry throughout the meal which tastes too much of tomato.
We call the other family which have already gone home. We tell them we'd join them for mahjong even though the last thing I want to do at this juncture is Talk About It. He drives to their place. We park in their driveway which is on a slope. I curse Canberra for not being flat like Singapore.
I breakdown and cry yet another time. And I tell him what I had wanted to hear from him all along. And he tells me why he got angry with me earlier. Apparently he got narky with me because one of the things I'd said at the supermarket was I didn't want to meet the others because I was embarrassed. He told me he got angry that this was a pride issue for me. I stare at my soaked 3-ply tissue in disbelief.
The hostess finally steps out the door and tilts her chin as if to say, "Are you coming in or not!" So we pull our acts together and make up and go in. And I know I still love my husband to the moon because he had never stopped being gentle even though I'd pretty much wailed at him 3 times today and cried throughout lunch and made him look like an ogre in a Chinese restaurant.
I check my reflection and comment that I look like shit. He tells me I never look like shit.
I tell the hostess briefly what happened outside the church driveway with the red car. She makes sympathetic noises and a cup of tea for me. We mahjong for 2 and a half hours. We think I won.
As the husband and I make plans to leave, we talk about the hosts' crazy driveway, and how the traffic on their corner is crazy. Cars constantly charge up and down the curve because it's a long road in a quiet suburb.
I tell Tony quietly that I'll try and drive from here back to our place, which is a half hour drive away. I ask that he reverses the car out of the hellish driveway first and then I'll drive the rest of the way back.
The hostess comments that he should actually make me negotiate the driveway because I need the practice. I envision flicking mahjong tiles at her head.
I drive us back to Palmerston without event. Through Northbourne Avenue. Onto Gungahlin Drive. Traffic is heavy but I manage it well. The car doesn't stall. We arrive home safe.
He tells me I've done a good job on that last leg. The last of the fury leaves my body.
I realise my eyes have been hurting the whole day.
And I still hate driving. I've never liked it.
I've only had 8 lessons, after all...
Saturday, July 02, 2005
~ One of the Boring Bits ~
We have a little wooden filing cabinet (just 2 drawers) in the study. Tony's had it for years, but has always kept his things elsewhere. His filing system used to exist primarily in his massive brain, his papers scattered abroad, far and wide.
Well guess what. Now that we're married, the filing system in his brain has suddenly become defunct. Because now I need to know where everything else is kept too. Same goes for my papers, which used to be stored in very specific folders ALL OVER THE STUDY.
So today, we filed everything under a systematic order we both understand. We even made those filing tabs and labelled all the folders. It was immensely tedious and boring but we did dig up some very old stuff on both sides, and did a bit of show and tell. We also found out his baptism date wasn't 12 Sept 1983 like we thought, but 17 Sept 1984.
I really don't like talking about money and serious issues like insurance and tax on most days, but oddly enough, today's filing was my initiative. I don't know if this signals a turn on my side; if I'm beginning to get comfortable with this side of marriage... but taking a hard look at what we have and what we've planned for the rest of our lives was frankly very reassuring.
Packing them away in a filing cabinet, and putting InDesign-designed labels on everything also went a long way in satisfying the closet anal-retentive side of me.
I had a little chat with someone today about how Tony and I have been busy these few months essentially getting the house and money stuff in order... and she told me that she's been married exactly 12.5 years today, and she and her husband have never written a will. They have three children.
And it struck me right then how every couple is so different. Because for these past six months, I've been functioning under the belief that I was being a real slackard of a wife as far as talking about finances go. That if we hadn't sorted this out by the sixth month into marriage, we were really dragging our feet on this. I think I even believed that every modern newlywed had sorted this stuff out even before they got married. And I don't know why Tony rushes these things, but I was trying to run along beside him to nail these issues once.and.for.all.
And then I find out that couples live almost 13 years and 3 children later without so much as a will deciding who was gonna have their children should they both get hit by lightning (or a truck) tomorrow.
Perspective. Wonderful Comfort. I feel less ineffectual and childish now.
I'm glad we did the filing today.
