Be Careful What You Wish For

I really wanted to love London having fallen head over heels for New York City and craving the big city vibe. Oh and how I do! London is awesome. Yes it’s expensive and yes it’s Summer so it's light and yes we’re doing all the tourist-y stuff but I don’t care, I love it here.

Our hostel is the worst hostel I’ve ever stayed at (more to come on that) and so we have a primal need to be away from the hostel at all times. If there was any city this could happen at, London is the best. So far we’ve managed 14 hour stretches away and never even noticed how late it was getting (thank you 10.30pm sunset) or been the slightest bit bored.

Aside from a we’re-hungry-and-went-the-wrong-way argument at the tail end of day one, every moment of the week so far has been great. I’m not sure that we started it the right way, although equally I’m not sure that we did it wrong either. We caught the tube to London Dungeons and spent several hours there. London Dungeons was awesome and the tube was fine, but the best part of the day was afterwards. We had no plans and did not want to go back to the hostel so we decided to catch the first double-decker bus we found and get off it when we saw something interesting. That something was Trafalgar Square, and after that we kept falling all over London landmarks like they were cracks in the pavement. We accidentally found Downing Street, Big Ben, the Houses of Parliament and Westminster Abbey. We got lost at the worst possible time - as it started raining - but we found our way back to the hole that is our hostel and settled in for the night.

Day two again just kind of fell into place. We saw the Changing of the Guard which is a much bigger fanfare than I ever thought it would be. Not only that but the freaking Queen left the palace as we were waiting and I saw her. Not a fan of the royals? I am. Soul Buddy is English so it's practically law. Either way the Queen and her 30-car security team made my day.

We then wandered to Hyde Park which is very close by. We lost ourselves in the expanses and then Courtney saw a fox. We don't have them at home so it's a very big deal and we semi-followed it until we came across a guy feeding squirrels. He very kindly gave us some nuts and we had the time of our lives getting squirrels to sit on our laps and even one on Courtney's shoulder, as a fox stalked them in the background. Hyde Park is the best place to possibly get lost and we could have spent all day there but it was off to London Dungeon and the London Eye which were both awesome, made even more so by the epic public transport system they have here. 

Not even a two hour trek to find the Hard Rock Cafe (thanks to wrong directions) which then turned out to be closed which then turned out to actually be open but too late could dampen our spirits because upon finding the 'closed' side of the restaurant we found the open shop and just in time to do a tour of the vault downstairs which amongst the treasures of the Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, Sting, Madonna and Kurt Cobain, had Steve Vai's guitar and Freddie Mercury's chair, both of which us loser music fans could touch and take photos with. It was only after this, at 10pm at night, that we found the open side of the restaurant but by then we were spent and it was hometime.

All in all we've spent far more hours out of the hostel than in it and we're yet to lose interest. London wins.

PS. Photos on their way when the Wi-Fi at the hostel comes back on. For now we are in a cafe in Notting Hill, about to explore Portobello Road.

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Penny and Courtney Present: The Novelties of Athlone

• The free phone number here is 08000, said Oh-Eight-Thousand. At home we call 0800, said Oh-Eight-Hundred. So it’s similar enough to home, but that’s what makes it stand out.
• At home we have boxes of miniature chocolate bars called Cadbury Favourites. Here, the same box is called Cadbury Heroes. That’s not the best bit – one of the choices inside is a tiny bar-shaped Cadbury Crème Egg. It’s so obviously the best idea Cadbury has ever had. Come on New Zealand, catch up!
• Streets Ice cream is called HB. It’s really weird to see the Streets logo, which is really recognizable and the second biggest Ice Cream brand at home, but with HB under it. HB stands for Hazelbrook Farms, which is cute, but wrong. It’s Streets, people!
• In the pub, they have glasses and a jug of water free for anyone to help themselves. This is normal. What’s not normal is the bottles of flavor next to them. It’s cordial, like Thrifty or Ribena at home, but it’s in Olive Oil bottles, you know with the thin spout? I should have figured it out for myself but I didn’t get what the flavours were and if you were supposed to add a splash or full flavour or what. I’ve just never seen it done before.
• Every call is a toll call. Same as when I lived in Australia, but I never thought about it here. At home, all local calls are included in your monthly fee for having a phone line. If you call out of your wider region, it costs extra. Here, all calls cost money no matter what. It seems backwards.
• Irish people call winter ‘summer’ – OK so that’s my attempt at a joke but seriously, this is not summer. At home we have fairly mild summers; it’s not as crazy as Australia or the US. A warm summer’s day might hit 27 degrees Celsius if you’re lucky. In Ireland, we were sitting around 11 max. All the rain makes for a beautiful countryside, but the cold was well outside my expectations.
• The tour guides mention hay making as if it’s a novelty. I don’t know who it’s aimed at, which country doesn’t make hay, but us Kiwis see hay bales and think ‘Oh look a hay bale’. Apparently not everyone does.
• Speaking of Tour Guides, they think Alpacas are some crazy exciting animal worthy of a zoo. Our Tour Guide in Galway stopped the bus to explain that we were about to come up to a field of an animal you would only see in Dublin Zoo, something bizarre looking, that you would never expect to see in a field. I’m thinking what the hell is it, are there Lions just sat there behind a fence? Nope, Alpacas. Very cute Alpacas, but just Alpacas.
• They have Wi-Fi on buses. Is this a worldwide thing? I know NZ is well behind the times in terms of technology, but for us, Wi-Fi on buses is exciting. Who would have thought, Wi-Fi on a bus?!
• Being told to “Mind yourself” is a good thing. If I told someone at home to mind themselves, they’d turn around and ask me what the hell for. It’s like our Mum’s telling us to mind our manners when we were young – if an adult told us that now we’d think they were out of line. We’re fully grown adults, we can figure these things out for ourselves thank you very much. Here, everyone says it. When you leave a shop, the friendly shopkeeper tells you to mind yourself. When you leave a taxi, you tell the driver to mind himself. It’s more like wishing someone safe journeys.
• Castles are as common as houses. I tripped out on all the old stuff in Ireland when we first arrived. After our tours throughout the week, I’m all castled out. Every few minutes there’s a ruin or a castle. I thought they were for Kings and Queens but no. Think you’re important? Build a castle.
• Irish people say ‘like’ in the wrong place in a sentence. The word ‘like’ is ridiculed as a sign of low intelligence sometimes. Reality TV stars use it every second word. I use it all the time myself, as do lots of people I know. It’s a buffer word, a nothing word that fills a gap in a sentence where an ‘um’ might usually go – “They were, like, getting ready to go out”. Here, it’s at the end – “They were getting ready to go out, like”.
• Chips (Fries) are a vehicle for flavour. In New Zealand, we have chips with tomato sauce. Maybe with salt and vinegar if we’re daring. Here, chips are like crackers or bread – something to put other, more exciting things on. Cheese, curry sauce, mince, garlic sauce, bacon, chilli – you name it, it can go on chips. Best idea ever.
• No one drinks at home. Irish people think house parties – where you invite your friends over to chat and drink and play music and drink and dance – are weird. At home, most drinking is done at home. If you’re going out, you have ‘pre-drinks’ where you get ready and chill out and get a few drinks in you because everyone knows once they’re out on the town the drinks will be that much more expensive. When you run out of money or time, you might even go back to a friend’s house for ‘after-drinks’. Often, there’s no need to go out at all, because the party’s at your place. Here, you meet at the pub, drink at the pub, and go home when you’re done. Apparently it’s a novelty that because of the recession, people are starting to buy wine at the supermarket and drink at home.
• There are hair straighteners in the toilets at pubs. Why you would need to straighten your hair when you’re already out I don’t know, but that’s just me, because I know a lot of girls who would love this idea.
• Laundries are in the kitchen. I don’t know if it’s just older houses, I think it is, but apparently it’s not as weird as I think it is to have the clothes Washing Machine next to the sink, under the bench. Right by the oven and the fridge. Laundry rooms are a new fandangled thing put in new fandangled houses.
• At home, Irish pubs use a particular font, an Irish looking font. Don’t ask me why it’s Irish looking; I think it’s supposed to look Celtic or something. But in Ireland, they use it too. For pubs, shops, whatever. When I pointed it out to Joanie, she had never noticed before.

So obviously this list is 100% tongue in cheek. It’s funny the things we find weird in a new country, things that are completely normal to its residents. What have you found novel or bizarre on your travels?

www.flickr.com Penelope_nz's Athlone photoset

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Trashy Tattoos and Beautiful Sisters

I've posted lots about tattoos (here and here and here) and lots about those closest to me (here and here and here and here), but the two go hand in hand when I talk about my little sister. We fought all through our childhood, but when I returned from 2 years living in Australia in 2005 we had both sorted ourselves enough to get on, and even become really close friends. When she broke up with her first serious boyfriend, I turned up at their house, helped her pack her stuff, and shifted her into my spare room. The rest is history, and 4 years after that, we got matching tattoos to commemorate our efforts.

The tattoos we have are replicas of the Tui beer logo. Trashy? Depends how you look at it. The tattoos include no text, just the image of a Tui bird, mine on the inside of my arm and hers on her hip. Our flatmate at the time got one as well, although we have since lost touch with him. Ours remain as tributes to our bond, which began in earnest the day she moved in.

The Tui tattoos do represent the beer brand, but not in the way you may think. They represent the 4 years we spent in that house - me the entire time, my sister on and off, but always somewhere nearby. Those 4 years saw me go from 20 to 24 and my sister from 17 to 21 - particularly important years as far as years go.

Throughout them, we fell in love with boys, mended broken hearts, met new friends, learnt to cook, mastered the art of partying, learned to pour shots, both started Uni, both gave up (temporarily) on Uni, dealt with grief and loss, revelled in music and joy, appreciated guitar, joined in on sing a longs, cleaned up after Scrumpy Sundays, scared ourselves watching the Crime and Investigation channel, passed out after gigs, both worked at the place I am about to leave, gained addictions to The Hills, braved the cold to drink on the porch, braved the sun to BBQ on the deck, panicked at the sight of blood, ate from the vege garden, laughed and loved and cried and laughed again.

Throughout all of these years, there was one constant factor - there was always Tui in the fridge. I completely understand why our tattoos may be seen as trashy, regrettable or lacking class. You are welcome to your own opinion. My tattoo is not a tribute to beer however, it's a tribute to the relationship I have with my sister. Beyond the years our parents had control, we continued to raise each other. We are complete opposites - I didn't know what a GHD was until the first time she straightened my hair, and she didn't know real music until I took her to her first metal gig. Despite our differences, we have very similar senses of humour and a private language only 22 years of life in each others pockets can create. Soul Buddy and Squish are the best friends I could ask for, best friends that have become family. But my sister is family that doubles as a best friend, and you don't get that handed to you on a plate.

Are you close to your family, or do you find them in your friends?

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Are you Living Your Dream Life? Part Five: Soul Buddy!

This week I am honoured to have my own darling Soul Buddy guest posting. This makes me warm and fuzzy. I also love her more now than I did before.

Who are you and what is your life like now?

Hi fellow DIBF Lovers, you may have read about me once or thrice, for my name is Soul Buddy. Who am I? I am the Queen of Fluffers, who lives a very content life with Mister Soul Buddy, and am lucky to be the soul buddy to our Blog Queen. My life is pretty great really, I can’t complain a whole lot. I am very fortunate to have found the Most Amazing Love to share my life with (and gotten to marry him) I have the best parents in the world, my own little home full of my own little things, all lined up just the way I like them. I also am lucky to have a little group of pick of the crop, drama free, proper friends, and 3 (soon to be 4) fur babies.

I do still complain though, I complain constantly about my weight – yet never do enough to make a difference, and as 70% of the working population, I do like to complain about my job.

Don’t get me wrong, I do love my job most of the time, it has its perks and has gotten me into the Recruitment Industry which I genuinely enjoy. It takes me no more than 15 minutes to get to and from, no one cares if I’m late, or take a bit too long browsing the shops at lunch time, my boss is supportive, yet cheeky, and I have a small team of girls I can have a laugh or a bitch with. 

This all sounds pretty cool, but it doesn’t leave me feeling particularly satisfied. I had (I suppose it hasn’t gone anywhere) the potential to do great things with my career, great marks all through school and all that, but I dropped out of school the second I turned 16 as it was making me miserable. I was promptly accepted into a pre-degree course at one of our universities here in the big smoke, in the hopes that I could continue my education in the field of business and not have to suffer being at school for 2 more years. 

Of course this didn’t happen as I found the amazing world of being responsible for your own actions! No one at Uni cares if you don’t turn up everyday, no one rings your mother or locks you in a class room with the delinquents at lunch time. This was freedom! Soon enough I ended up leaving with no qualifications and a sizeable student loan, and ended up in full time employment, earning a whopping $285 a week as a receptionist, and so began my working life. In the last 8 years I have drifted from reception to admin, customer service to sales and have found myself in a junior recruitment position, assisting with anything and everything to a recruitment team in a big boring company. Crikey, 8 years of drifting sounds like a long time doesn’t it.

I am quite the optimist though, and I genuinely believe everything happens for a reason. The reason that I have gained no formal qualifications and spent 8 years doing nothing important, is that I simply haven’t figured out what I want to do yet. If I had stuck to it, and gotten myself a business degree, I genuinely believe that I would find myself in the same predicament I am in now…but with a pretty certificate on my wall. Now that I am writing this I realise that I probably wouldn’t have been able to buy a house with Mister Soul Buddy at the age of 20.

What would you do all day, week or year if you were living your dream life?

So, I think it is time to move on and focus on the next question. What would I do all day if I were living my dream life. Dream life (and I’m seriously dreaming here) for me probably consists of swanning around in a spanking charcoal M Class Benz or BMW X6, running errands, shopping for gorgeous things, managing renovations, lunching, going to Pilates, and being generally fabulous. I don’t care how shallow that makes me sound, feel free to judge me! 

Now, to think about an actual dream life. I want to be someone. I want to be a something. Right now I am nothing in particular other than support for a team, some even call me an administrator which makes my skin crawl and not only because that’s not actually just my job. Even Births Deaths and Marriages didn’t recognise my job title as a “real job” when I applied for a marriage licence, how depressing! I digress, I want to be a something, I want a job that defines me in some ways, I want to be able to say “oh I am A (insert title here)”, a nurse, a psychologist, a lawyer, a chef. I don’t actually want to be any of these things, but hopefully you get what I am rambling on about. 

I also want to do something where I can see people, face to face interaction, but not work alone or from home. A job where people can make appointments to see me at my office, or where I can go and visit people during the day. There is nothing more motivating when you are feeling like you could pull a sicky, to know that you actually have people counting on you for something.

What would your job be? Why would it make you happy?

For a long time, at least a couple of years, I have been fascinated by the body, and nutrition, and how what you eat has its consequences, and how it ACTUALLY works, and why junk food is addictive and how eating sugar or vegetables can ACTUALLY increase or decrease your chances of getting cancer. 

So this fascination, teamed with it being A something, as well as being the kind of job that people make appointments to see you, seeing people face to face, getting out and about during the day and having real satisfaction when you help people do amazing things and turn their lives around, makes me want to be a nutritionist. I like it. I think we have come to a conclusion, I also think I have answered why it would make me so happy.

So what's stopping you?

So here is the hard one, or the easiest one, depending on how you look at it I suppose….what is stopping me. Well, firstly I do believe you require some formal qualifications to become a nutritionist, This I do not have……Ok so apparently that is the only thing stopping me.

The problem is, I work full time, earn a salary package in the late 40’s and roughly 80% of it goes solely to the mortgage repayments for the Soul Buddy household. This I cannot give up. Literally. It’s not a just case of living on baked beans and making ends meet while I quit my job and live off the government, it would be a case of selling my precious peachy home and asking wonderful Mister Soul Buddy to sacrifice his hard earned lifestyle for me. He is in his late 20s, works hard, like HARD, up to 80 hours all over Australasia, and what makes all his hard work, weird hours, and being away from home most of the week, is that the money is good. And with that, we can afford to balance it out by travelling a bit, owning our home and a few big boys (and girls) toys.

Basically my options are a) work hard at the little career I have already begun, jump out of my comfort zone, and keep on doing something I love doing (perhaps in a new company!) and use what my Momma gave me to create my own success. Or b) spend the next 10 years using all my spare time (and money) completing assessments. Hmmm, while I love the idea of going to labs and learning all about science, I do not love the idea of juggling a household, a job and intense study all at once while worrying about money and never being able to go shoe shopping.

The shoes have it; this is my plan, stop fluffing and put effort into making a successful career where I can properly contribute financially to my household. Watch this space!

Thanks so much my lovely Soul Buddy for contributing to the Dream Life series! 

If you would like to participate, I'd love to have you on board. Use the Contact Me tab to email me your answers to the Dream Life questions. I'll reply to get your photos and let you know when you will be published. All I ask in return is that you link back to Dancing in Barefeet on the day you appear.

Are you living your Dream Life?

Where No Man Has Gone Before

The other day, I was listening to Adele's album 21. I know she's huge overseas but she's only just becoming well known here in New Zealand so the fact that I only recently discovered her isn't as bad as it sounds. I heard her music for the first time when Haley covered Rolling in the Deep on American Idol and I loved Haley's performance so much I looked up Adele and I fell in love.

So there I was listening to her album at work and getting so engrossed in it that I was forgetting to do the tasks at hand. I find it so incredibly inspiring that she can sing with so much heavy emotion in her voice. She can have me question my own relationship for the 4 minutes and 45 seconds it takes her to sing Someone Like You and then allow me to snap back to reality when she finishes, realising my relationship is fine. For those few minutes she gives so much that I absorb every emotion she expresses as if it were my own. If this were a couple of hundred years ago, she would surely be tried for witchcraft, such is the power she exudes.

What I found even more inspiring, is that these songs have only been written in the last few years. For all the 22 years of my life that preceded them, I had plenty of favourite songs for a million different reasons. And all that time, Someone Like You was just waiting to be written. Don't You Remember was itching to be born and Rolling in the Deep was trembling with the anticipation of what it could do if only someone would bring it to life. What this means to me is that for all the many years that are hopefully yet to come in my life, there are so many new favourite songs still hiding in the shadows.

For all the infinite number of songs that have been written already throughout time, and for the thousands of times a song has sounded 'just like' another, no one ever writes exactly the same song as has been written before. The very idea of this is so exciting to me. This is what life is about.

The same concept applies to our Europe trip. I question whether this site will ever be of use to anyone else. Soul Buddy is planning a trip around the UK with a detour to Paris and while all of my research is sitting here waiting to be of use to someone, she is finding things I never thought of. Researching is part of her journey, just as it has been with mine.

Just as new songs will never be identical to old, no one will ever take the exact same trip as I do (well, except Courtney!). For every suggested itinerary I've ever looked at online, I've never been inclined to copy a single one. No one will ever copy mine. No one has ever seen the exact same countries in the exact same order, on a bike, with a tent, with a boy, or for the same music. Which means that even if billions of people over thousands of years have seen the Colosseum, no one has seen it like I will. I'm the first to see Europe, at least as I will see it. This is why I like to travel. The possibilities are endless.

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And then there were 34

34 Days to go. ONE MONTH! Tomorrow, we officially move to Monty and Nurse B's house. And the best bit? Izzy is coming with us. As you know, we had a bit of an emotional weekend. I spent much of Monday in zombie mode, stressed to the max and just a little bit down in general. I didn't know where Izzy was going to go and I felt terrible about Soul Buddy having to deal with the whole mess. SB in turn felt terrible that she had let me down, although I don't feel in the slightest like she has, more that I let her down by relying on her so much.

Poor little Izzy, I feel so bad that he has to deal with all this confusion. At least he will have Toby back and he will have us. I don't think it will phase him living with a new dog and cat as well. SB pointed out that having grown up with Toby, Izzy doesn't behave like a cat. He thinks he's a dog, and his dog-like behaviour intimidated SB's cats while their cat-like behaviour confused Izzy. I just feel terrible that he has to be uplifted again. Once we get to Monty and Nurse B's, we will keep Iz segregated to one room for a week so that he settles really well before even exploring the house. As much as he will hate being stuck in one room (he's a hunter and explorer) I think it will be better for him in the long run.

So that's where we are at. MOVING DAY! The last of our bits and pieces will go into storage and we will begin living out of a suitcase. It will be nice to say goodbye to our bed, which I hate. It was advertised on Trade Me as Queen sized and medium firmness and turned out to be double and an extremely hard mattress when we got it home. Bye-bye horrible bed!

Bye-bye warm house that needs little heating. Bye-bye rubbish water pressure. Good bye ridiculously annoying and un-conquerable ant infestation. Bye feijoa tree and apple tree. Bye nasty kids that fight in the street. Good bye ugly wooden walls that somehow make it feel like home. That's it really isn't it? Good bye to the last 'home' we will have for 5 months. We will redefine home. Home is love and adventures and tents and motorcycles. Bring it on.

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Nothing Ever Goes to Plan

I woke up feeling sick today. Full on shakes and nausea. I'm not ill, I'm stressed and I'm sad. It was supposed to be such an exciting weekend - moving all our furniture into storage and Izzy the cat to Soul Buddy's house. Not exciting to have no furniture and no cat but definitely exciting to be one step closer to Europe.

Saturday morning started with an argument. I've never moved house with the Long Haired Boy before and therefore I never knew he Hates Moving House. He hadn't really said so before - I should have taken the packing-everything-myself as a sign. I needed him to tell me what in the spare room was still on Trade Me vs going in the bin vs going in a box to go into storage that day. I needed to know these things so that a messy room in reality could be a room I didn't have to worry about in my head. I can't explain how that works. But without knowing that room was all sorted, even as Organised Chaos, I wouldn't have felt like we had everything covered.

Meanwhile, LHB needed a drink of water. He had just surfaced, he's not a morning person, and he's especially not a morning person without a glass of water first, followed by a coffee if at all possible. Just as he couldn't see inside my mind to know why I needed answers now, I couldn't see inside his head to know he wanted to go and get a drink. He got frustrated, I got upset, nasty words were said. Hello, Saturday.

Moving our stuff ended up being even more stress. I had everything packed, I've been sorting, selling, giving away and packing for literally 2-3 months and other than a couple of cupboards in the kitchen that I needed to get more boxes for, I thought everything was sorted. Mum had mentioned having a plan for everything, what stuff was going to my sister's house, what was going into her storage locker. She had also mentioned upgrading the storage locker to a bigger one. I took all of this as gospel but when it came down to it, there were a lot of questions - "Where's this going?" "I thought you knew?" throughout the day.

As the common denominator here, I feel perhaps communication isn't my strong point. I try to talk to people about issues, I try to get everything out and air cleared. I think I do it wrong.

With all the underestimated moving stress, we were running way behind our anticipated timeframes (borrowed Ute had to be back at 11, we finished moving at 5) and Izzy still had to go to Soul Buddy's. SB and her Mister ended up coming to pick him up and off he went, followed by a few tears and then a mad panic to get to Monty and Nurse B's going-away dinner, since along with us moving into their house this weekend comes them flying off to Africa.

The dinner was awesome, a lot of fun with awesome food and great company. SB sent me pxt's and texts all night to keep me updated on Izzy (he didn't miss me at all) and when Courtney's sister and I visited on Sunday morning all was good. He had been a little brat all night trying to escape and keep everyone awake but he was happy, they were happy. Now the other cats had to get used to him and we'd be away laughing.

I went home, did Miss Nails' backfill and then went to find my phone. SB had text, rather upset because her cats had had to be coaxed inside with tuna, then sprayed their territory and run away again. We all came to the conclusion that Izzy should have been segregated for awhile first to allow them to get used to the smell and introduce them all slowly, but that's not what happened, so now we need to deal with the situation. Izzy is shut in the spare room on his own. He is happy enough, he is a very chilled cat. But SB feels guilty that she has let me down, I feel guilty that I've stuck her with this mess, and I feel incredibly guilty about Izzy.

I know he's a cat and cats are resilient. But he trusted me, he chose to live with me, he let me cuddle him, he slept on my face (yeah, he does that). I was his owner and he trusted me and I let him down. Think me stupid for feeling this way but I do. I feel immensely bad, that someone, even if it is a fur, trusted me and I let them down. I felt the same way when my dog Holly died while being pet sit and I have felt the same way in human situations. I hate it, I hate letting people down, and I hate that I can't communicate with Izzy and explain to him why this is all happening and that it will all be OK in the end.

Will it though? We now have to find a new home for Izzy. The poor little fur has to deal with another new house, new family, possibly new pets to be introduced (slowly) to and another car ride. Monty and Nurse B have said there is potential he might be able to come with us after all. He wasn't originally because they have 2 cats and a dog and we are adding Toby to the mix and that is quite a lot of fur for one 3 bedroom house. Monty's cat Dee hasn't taken well to the blended-family vibe though and a month or so after moving into Nurse B's with Monty, still hasn't come out from under the bed. She doesn't like dogs. So Dee might be on her way to Monty's Mums house and that might mean Izzy can come with us and (slowly) meet Jimmy the dog and Njaro the kitten. If he can't, and at the slightest hint that he can't I won't take him, because Monty and Nurse B are doing us a big enough favour already, then I don't know what to do.

I was relying on there being a car to take Izzy to SB's house on Saturday and there wasn't, so they had to pick him up to allow him a full weekend to get used to everything with them at home. I relied on other people for the cars and therefore I let SB and Mister down when I couldn't meet my obligations of dropping him off. Everyone on moving day was bitching at me for not knowing where everything was going because I'm the organised one therefore I should know everything. I relied on Mum saying she had it sorted and by doing so I let Mum, her partner and Courtney down. I'm relying on Monty and Nurse B to look after not only Toby but us and now they might have to do even more by taking Izzy in. I hate relying on people and I hate that I'm putting my friends, who are doing us favours left right and centre, in these positions and letting them down.

It all came to a head when Courtney got home from one place en route to band practice, running late, and came home to me stressed about Izzy. I was extremely stressed and inconsolable and had no idea that he also was feeling a bit down. Queue another big fight, more tears, more blame and more nasty words and then an evening sat in bed, alone, with the laptop, not knowing how to install Digg buttons or anything else required for a successful blog, marvelling at how much more successful 'everyone else's blogs are, 'everyone else's relationships are and 'everyone else's lives are.

No one that writes a perpetual-travel blog ever tells you about the Mourning Period. They don't tell you that when everything is packed and all the furniture is in storage you grieve. LHB and I both feel sad and a little empty and we are probably taking it out on each other, unfairly of course. These big changes are supposed to be exciting, they lead to everything we have dreamed of, saved for and planned for in the last 6 months. Instead I feel like my little life that all my money and time and energy has gone into for the last 6 years is gone. My cat is gone, my stuff is gone and I'm living in a shell of a house waiting for that to be gone too. I want to be excited but instead all I feel like doing is throwing up and then curling in a ball and waiting for it all to sort itself out.

No one warned me it would be like this. But I guess that would be me relying on other people for warnings too, wouldn't it.

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Saying Goodbye to my Furbaby

In exactly 6 weeks time we will be on our way. All the months of planning and spending and preparing all wrapped up in a proportionately tiny 250L backpack. At that point, whatever will go wrong is going to go wrong, to be worried about, dealt with, and eventually laughed at. There will be no turning back!

Tomorrow, we move all our belongings into storage. For the last week at our house we will have our bed, suitcase, computer and fridge. Natalie's not-quite 20 inch TV will still be there but there will be no couch to watch it from and it will likely end up back in her room - the best furnished room in the house since nothing of hers is going to storage.

A week later, we move to Monty and NurseB's house as they head off on safari to Africa and to climb Kilimanjaro. The carpet cleaner has been booked, utilities cancelled... oven cleaner pulled from the depths of the cupboard. Ergh.

Soul Buddy and her Mister are also off overseas soon, in 5 weeks time. Since they are the ones looking after Izzy while we're away, we want him settled into their house nice and early before they go. So early in fact, that he's going to their house tomorrow. It means he doesn't have to deal with the stress of our stuff disappearing and us cleaning everything, but it also means my time is up. Excuse the melodramatics that follow, but I love my furbabies more than anything so...

I know I'm going to visit him all the time and that he will move back home post-Europe but it's just not the same as having him constantly with me. I can hear him miaow when no one else can, semi instinctively. I get all excited, literally lighting up when I hear the bell on his collar. He is the cutest damn cat in the entire world and I know his every habit, exactly where he likes to be scratched and where his favourite hiding spots are. To that end, you know how when a loved one (including loved furs) dies, you wish you had just one last chance to say goodbye? I have that chance. It's no easier.

Tomorrow, I will bawl my pansy eyes out and I will feel sorry for myself, and if I'm honest, loyal readers, I'll probably consume quite a lot of sugar-based substances, of which I am already ashamed.

We have already prepared Toby by taking him with us to Soul Buddy's house last weekend so that when we visit it again with Izzy in tow, he will recognise it and understand that Soul Buddy is the common denominator and therefore it is a House We Trust. He will come with us to drop Izzy off so that he understands where Izzy is, and we will visit a few times the following week so that he understands Izzy is still there.

Toby's fursister, Holly, died almost exactly 2 years ago and he got to see her body and understand what had happened. He grieved considerably, we both did, together in bed. He was incredibly in tune with my emotions and he still understands her name and comes for a cuddle if we mention her several times in a short space of time. I don't want him to presume the same has happened to Izzy, especially since a month later it is likely he will presume it has happened to us.

So we will visit and Soul Buddy will get insanely sick of us. We're really doing her a favour, since if she is sick of us, she can't miss us for 4 months. Izzy is going to get so many cuddles tonight he will get sick of us too, and then he won't miss us.

I know cats are resilient, but will he miss us? I hope so.

Do you have any tips for rehoming animals as stress-free as possible?

Singing his Praises

Everyone has something they're especially good at, a specialty of sorts. I'm not too sure what mine is, although I make an exceptionally good Chocolate Mousse. Courtney's is definitely singing. He is amazing, and I'm not saying that because I'm biased.

Well before we were together, we were at a party at Squish's house and he burst into song, most likely about something silly or instead of speaking the answer to a question. Soul Buddy and I looked at each other, behind the back of a rather inebriated Long Haired Boy and raised our eyebrows. "Wow, he can actually sing!" one of us mouthed to the other. It was a big old nothing moment at the time, a moment of surprise and we were definitely impressed, but the moment faded away into the night like so many others. Now, it's the moment I first heard my love sing.

Until that point I had no idea that he had been in bands, one of whom we were fans of, but only after he had left it. Courts has a reputation I can only dream of as a singer, one where he gets asked to do guest vocals for existing bands. He doesn't even have to be in a band to get to go on stage and for every person who exclaims "Oh my gosh, I had no idea you could sing!", there's another nodding their head knowingly, in on the secret all along.

He's into metal, and metal only, but that doesn't mean he growls. Courts passion is power metal, he sings clean vocals and reaches ridiculously high notes without resorting to falsetto. I guess the most well known example of similar vocals for anyone scratching their heads and thinking 'Power what?' would be Iron Maiden, most everyone has heard 'Run to the Hills', a god awful song but an example all the same. Courts would hate this comparison, but he screams like Sebastian Bach, who I'm a huge fan of. It all amounts to something very sexy, and I'm the only one that gets to take it home.

I understand if you don't want to listen to 7 minutes of some other chicks boyfriend singing, but skip to 3m20s for a cute bit and around 4m20s for a really good scream. Or search, erm, 'Manowhore' on YouTube for more!
 
I did just that on Saturday night, after Courts and some friends did a Manowar tribute gig at the Thirsty Dog in Auckland. The silly boy wasn't happy with his vocals but he did an amazing job. Squish and Lobster were there, and a work friend turned up and stood awestruck next to me as Courts lifted the ceiling. Soul Buddy and her Mister turned up half way through, racing to see him after a family 21st, and Mister was rather impressed having not completely understood SB's excitement initially.

As much as I love his singing, I hear it all the time. The best part of the gig for me was seeing everyone else's faces appreciating what I already love. Courtney's singing is one of the main reasons our Europe trip has an end date (along with debt and furbabies) because his reputation doesn't yet follow him internationally. One day it will.

What does your other half do that you are most proud of, that fills you up and has you wanting to tap on everyones shoulder asking 'Did you see that!'?

Starting Young

Even at 18 I was ambitious. Having given up a scholarship to do a degree in Interior Design, I was living in Australia with my boyfriend, working casual hours, living with his parents and dreaming of better days. It was at 18 that I wrote this out (maybe after reading this, Courtney will understand why he can't stop me dreaming about what we will do post-Europe before we've even conquered that) -

 

 In 2005, I moved home from Australia, with boy in tow. I lived at home with Mum, broke up with boy, and somewhere towards the end I got back together with boy. I saved bugger all, bought a TV, Home Theatre System and a solid wood TV Cabinet, my first grown up purchases. I did buy a car, one which lasted me a good 5 years. I bought a laptop. I got my P's (Provisional license in Australia - the stage before a Full or Open license) and I got contacts. When I moved home I got a job with a utility company and worked my way up the Call Centre ranks. I met Monty there. I rekindled my friendship with Wozz after a couple of years apart. I visited Melbourne, Australia for the first time. 

Even at the time of writing the list, I knew my income goals, which were in addition to the savings, were ridiculous. I also knew if I didn't push myself I'd stay at Pizza Hut forever. I did OK though, in terms of income for my age.

In 2006, when I was 20, I moved out of home with boy, got two beautiful puppies, and my first Personal Loan. I used the loan to pay for beautiful new furniture (which the puppies promptly destroyed) and pay the excess on an insurance bill for a minor car accident. As well as paying my loan installments, I saved $3,500 towards a house before having to spend it cleaning up boy's messes, after which I broke up with boy for the second and final time. I completed the Polytech course I had hoped to complete in 2005, with an overall mark of A+. Despite having skipped out on the scholarship for Interior Design, I at least now had a (lesser) qualification in the subject. I didn't pay a dime on my student loan above what I had to. I did buy a bedroom suite.

In 2007 I saved nothing towards a house however I did travel through the USA, seeing New York, Philadelphia, DC, Memphis, Nashville, Las Vegas and LA. I saved for much of it and topped up my personal loan for the rest. I applied for several Uni papers extramurally, added them to my student loan and then used my student allowance to become far too hungover to pass my exams (if I turned up at all). I paid the minimum off my student loan through my position at the utility company and somehow avoided being fired for turning up hungover and exhausted for long enough to meet a new boy and get my act together. With my new found mental clarity (not to mention that of my liver) I moved on from said utility company and found myself at new utility company, that which I still work for today. Oh, and I already owned a lounge suite.

In 2008 I had just finished my course to become a Nail Technician. I had come to the conclusion that getting a personal loan probably hadn't been the best idea and that if I wanted to get rid of it I needed More Money. Nails was something I could do from home, that had a decent profit margin and that could set me up for a decent part time income one day when I had kids. I saved nothing towards a house. I saved nothing towards an OE. I gave up paying for Uni papers I never finished. I paid nothing but the minimum off on my student loan, which was disappointingly huge despite the meek returns. I got my first tattoo. Soul Buddy and I got back together after being apart for a couple of years. I got single again. Oh and I already owned a dining suite. 

I started 2009 by changing jobs within the same company, moving into Training where I remain to this day. I saved nothing towards a house. I saved nothing towards an OE (Overseas Experience, for those not familiar with the term). I paid the minimum off my student loan. I cemented some seriously amazing friendships (Lealea and Squish, I'm looking at you). I got more tattoos. I suffered my first non-boy heartbreak when one of my two puppies was hit by a car while we were away for the weekend (she was at home with a pet sitter). I visited Brisbane again for Soundwave 2009 in a trip combined with my first trips to Perth and Sydney in Australia. I met Courtney for the first time. A boy moved in with me.

In 2010 I did not buy a house. I did buy a kitten. I did not travel to London, Spain, France, Greece or Italy, although it's nice to know I'm doing it only one year after I wanted to. I had already been to LA and New York. I went to Soundwave 2010 in Brisbane. I got engaged. Boy paid my student loan off so that we could save for a house. I went to Rarotonga for the first time. I realised boy was not the right one. I got un-engaged. I visited the South Island for the first time. I met Slash. 

I paid back boy for the student loan and got my total debts down to their lowest point since their inception. They had climbed and climbed over the years but now I had no student loan, owed no individuals (ie. Mum or boy) and had zero hire purchases. For the first time in a long time I had all my debt in one place and I kicked it's ass. By the end of 2010 I had paid off $20,000 in 2 years. I moved out of my house - the same one I moved into when I moved out of home 4 years earlier. 

On moving day my flatmate said 'What's going on with you and Court's? You keep looking at each other'. As far as I was concerned, nothing was. 

In 2010 I got my first restraining order, a police-requested one against a different flatmate, who had drunkenly trashed the house we were moving out of the first night we slept away from it. Hopefully it will be my last. I also had my laptop stolen from our housewarming and sold to a gang down south. By process of elimination the culprits (friends of the first flatmate) were determined and then traced, returning the laptop after buying it back off the gang. Who on earth does stuff like this happen to other than me? No one I've met, that's for sure.

In 2010, a month after moving, Courts and I realised what flatmate had seen all along, and the rest is history. 

In 2011 I still don't have a house. I already have a puppy, although he's about to turn 5. I meet my income goal. In 2011 I will visit 11 countries - I've done Soundwave 2011 in Australia and will see Ireland, England, France, Spain, Netherlands, Germany, Czech Republic, Switzerland, Italy and Greece. 

I don't have a student loan but I do have a personal loan. In 2011, I will pay it off, even if the bank doesn't think I can. 

In 2011 I will buy a new car, once which I am proud to drive. Courtney and I will buy a new bike and upgrade his computer. 

In 2011 I will attempt to write a book. 

I will grow my nails business. 

Iwill go to Soundwave 2012. 

I will enquire about getting my Caregiver qualifications so that until I can be a foster parent, I can at least be involved in the organisations that help them. 

I might look after a Guide Dog puppy to give Toby company. I might not. 

I might try and get into a band again. 

I might train to do eyelash extensions as well as nails. 

I will go back to Pilates. Maybe I'll learn to teach it. 

A 9-5 office will not be the thing that sums up my life, unless it has the benefits to quantify it.

In 2012 I will buy a house, which I will sell for profit. In 2012 I will start my degree. Courtney will complete his degree. I will not get a student loan. Courtney and I will go on a cruise. We will decide on our next overseas adventure. 

You can't see the last line of 2011 but it says 'In 2021 I will be 35 and I will be a millionaire'. You can laugh. I didn't think it was going to land in my lap, but even at 18 I knew if I didn't add it to my goals, it wouldn't happen. In 2021 I will be in a stable relationship. I will have worked with charities I care about. I will foster. I will have a child. I will have seen South America, India and Africa. I will own a home and an investment property. I will have my degree. Other than my mortgage I will be debt free. 

In 2021 I will have redetermined these goals a thousand times, but I will have achieved most of them. 

Forget the 'I'd like to's and the 'I wish's... In 2021, what will you have done?

Bliss, Oh So Much Bliss

Last week was a major Bliss fail. Not only did I not have time to do any of the Bliss list things I had planned but in writing about it for you guys I realised how much of what used to make me happy is now missing from my life. Sunday Roast, for example, which I missed out on last Sunday. It was a weekly thing that we all loved and it fell to the wayside for Europe savings. My friends and I used to have impromptu barbeque's and we used to party every weekend. Our flatmates were our family and we spent a lot of our time together.

I don't want every aspect of that life back. I don't want to drink to excess every weekend although I would like to experience live music more, like we used to. I did love impromptu barbeque's and I want our next house to be as social as the last one was. I loved that my friends knew the door was always open. As much as I loved having a flat-family (I have a tattoo in honour of it), I don't want my stuff broken by people with no connection to the value of it, and I'm ready to stop doing the dishes of people that don't rinse!

After the upset of realising how disconnected I have become from the 'old me', this week was one of the best I've had in a long time. And I barely met anything scheduled either.

Monday: Audrey Hepburn Wrestlemania

So I love and adore Audrey and her movies. My house is filled with Audrey memorabilia. But she fell wayside for something about as opposite to her glamour and class as you can possibly get - WWE. The afternoons prior to Sunday Roast generally followed on from the hangover left behind by Saturday night. Roast attendees would filter in and collapse on beanbags as we all watched the WWE omnibus and chatted mindlessly. Love it or hate it, WWE is entertaining. No, it's not real. Yes, it is scripted. But so is every soap opera you enjoy, and that's all it is. I've watched the wrestling only a handful of times since I moved into this house a year ago. It left my life with the demise of Sunday Roast and the entry of Courts, who can't stand it.

On Monday, Squish, Lobster, Wozz and I organised a semi-impromptu get together for the annual Wrestlemania show. We had been thinking about it but hadn't done anything about it. I fit in a nail client before it started and then we settled in with popcorn and Sprite Zero and watched the drama unfold. We placed pointless bets on each match and, as happens every year, I fell asleep before it ended. The point though, is that I fell asleep surrounded by some of my best friends, enjoying each others company and hanging out, just like old times'. Say what you will about WWE, this was Bliss.

Tuesday: Grace Kelly

One of my other favourite actresses of all time is Grace Kelly. I planned to introduce Courts to her and Hitchcock at the same time, with the movie that got me hooked on her, Rear Window. It wasn't to be though, as I did three nail clients and then we collapsed. I love my nail girls so it wasn't a bad night, just not Grace. I shall look forward instead to setting foot in Monaco in a few months time, where she became Princess after marrying Prince Rainier.

Wednesday: Guitar Soul Buddies

When I first picked up a guitar, I loved playing and I picked it up quickly. I could have been really good, but one day I stopped. It's now one of those things I always mean to start doing again but it never quite happens. This time, it at least fell to the wayside for a very special lady, whose birthday it is today, and whom I love very much. Instead of buying each other birthday presents, Soul Buddy and I went on a date to see the premiere of Just Go With It. Armed with free bubbles and goody bags we sat through one of the funniest movies I've seen in a loooong time. Jennifer Aniston cops a lot of flack at the box office and in reviews but she is gold when paired with a male comic such as Jim Carrey in Bruce Almighty. This time she was with Adam Sandler and the movie was awesome. You have to see it! Although you won't have as much fun because you won't be with Soul Buddy. Bliss!

Thursday: Elvis

Poor old Courts was on late shifts last week and had used his lunch break to take me home for nails Monday and Tuesday and my date Wednesday. He is a very nice boy, you see! On Thursday I stayed back at work with him and did some overtime. Elvis was neglected in favour of grumpy customers, but at least I got to chill out with my Long Haired Boy afterwards.

To be continued...