Buried Adventures

(Australian bush)

Buried beneath a tree, in a small suburban park in Middle Ridge, Toowoomba, lies a tin can sealed with glad-wrap. (Unless it has been unearthed and thrown away). And inside this can, is a golf ball and a piece of paper with the details of an “adventure” that my best friend Lindsay White and I had, one weekend when we were ten.

In reality, our “adventures” were lame forest explorations followed by some mild trespassing, but at the time they were heart stopping, adrenalin-pumping voyages into the unknown. We'd explore the unchartered bush at the top of The Great Dividing Range, and name important landmarks after ourselves, then follow the pony trail until it was time to trespass.  

We'd sneak through stranger's yards using stealth like moves - like running, and hiding and stuff, until we could make it to the safety of the road. We thought if we were caught, we'd probably go to jail, because people would think we were "robbers" and trespassing was illegal.

The day we buried the time capsual, we found a golf ball in our travels and decided to document our adventure so that many years into the future, someone would  discover the tin and learn something about our culture.

I'd picture them, post apocalypse, saying "How did they do it? A ball with perfect little dimples. The ancient people of Toowoomba were a sophisticated race." And then "Honey, did you know that stream down the road is actually called the Lind-ally River?"

For two years that followed we kept returning to the park to make sure the tin was still there. Then I moved away and Lindsay and I went to separate high-schools and sadly lost touch. But I know where the park is and I think I can still picture the exact tree where it's buried. One day, perhaps in our 80's, I'll go visit Lindsay who lives in Toowoomba and we’ll walk the streets we used to roam as kids, go back to that tree, and start digging to check if it's still there. 

New Yorkba

It seems like where ever I go these days, I run into someone I know. “Well then move the hell out of Toowoomba!” I hear you say. Well I did, and now I’m in one of the most densely populated places in the world (if you don’t count all of Asia, and many other cities around the world), and I expect to feel anonymous, and not worry about being a big daggy tourist when you have a bunch of Aussie girl-friends come visit. Yeaaaah! Which is where I’ve been of late. (There, and also being absolutely cained at work.)

NYC certainly turned on it's charm for the Brissy ladies. Thanks to the genius website – onlocations vacations (thanks Liz!), we snuck into the premier party of a new Kevin Klien movie, which also stars Katie Holmes and John C. Reilly (only Kevin showed up.)

Here’s the trick to getting past the door girls on the carpet with the list: Get there early. Too early for them to have their list out.  Then simply walk past them like you’re part of it all. We were lucky and because we weren’t even expecting to get in, our night just kept getting better.

“How much are the cocktails?” I asked, eyeing the list as we casually approached the bar.

“Why, they’re complimentary.” said the bar man, turning a blind eye to our poka-tourist faces.

“We’ll take 5.”

And really, that’s how the night went on. We gave our selves fake job titles in production, in case anyone asked (which makes no sense, seeing as we all work in post,) and for some reason the waitresses just loved us. The head wait-lady kept coming up to our table, which at all times had two full martini glasses in-front of each girl, to ask if we’d like another. She even gave us a round of absinth cocktails.

Needless to say, we got trashed, and the food kept coming, and we got our photos taken by papratzi, met Magda (Mirnda’s nurse from Sex and the City, who called us a table of hot ladies), saw a runner up from America’s next top model, and one of us – who’s favourite movie is Life As a House, managed to touch Kevin Kline’s jacket.

All of this - on their first night here, and the next day was even more New York! We got to see rats in the subway – and a squirrel in the park! 

Then on the girl's last day, we saw Justin Timberlake walking down 5^th Ave, as he filmed his new movie - Friends With Benefits. 

It was cool, but he had nothing compared to the appeal of squirrels. 

God – those squirrels! How do they move so quick?! And what’s with the long bushy tails! Why are they so rad?

We had a lot of fun, and I’m exhausted, but I can’t stop going out. They've given me summer fever, and the world is shrinking every day. 

I remember watching SATC and thinking - that's such crap that people can just run into people they know like that on the street. And then one of my Brissy girls -  while strolling through the West Village, ran into a boy she kissed on a dance floor in the East Village, 2 nights prior. Rock on Yorkvegas! 

Squirrels! 

J.Crew Tail

Today I popped into J.Crew after a manic day at work, hoping to find something/anything that would fit the "casual chic" dress code of a film soirée tomorrow night. (work thing.)

It was only ten minutes before close, and once inside, the door man came up to me with an apologetic face. I stopped him and said: "I know, I know - you guys close in 10 minutes - I'll be quick!"
"No mam," he said hesitantly. "There's toilet paper coming out your pants."

I prayed it was just stuck to the bottom of my shoe, but when I turned around I saw a good foot and a half of it hanging out the top of my skinny black pants like a long tail. (!!?!)

I quickly stuffed it in my handbag, like that was a perfectly normal place to put toilet paper.
"Thank you," I managed in a surprisingly dignified voice, as I continued to browse the racks.

I had just walked two blocks down Fifth Avenue and crossed at the lights to get here. As my dear friend  Liz would call it - Fashion Road-kill.

Ada Update

I haven’t written about Ada for some time now. Towards the end of last year, I read a book called The 36hr Day, about dementia and it changed everything; how I view her, how I talked to her, how I listen and respond.

I no longer fear her. I now understand that when your brain is clogged with plaque, you often feel scared and confused and frustrated as all hell.  And when you’re trying to express or rationalise that, it can come out all wrong.

When she yells “You are the devil! This is mine! I hate everything! I have nothing!” I hold her, and I say “I know. I understand. I know you don’t feel like you used to.” Or her favourite; “I know you don’t belong here.” And she’s often so grateful that someone ‘gets her’, instead of arguing, that she gets teary and hugs me.

This morning I went in and lay with Ada. (I do this when I want a sleep in, and her nurse is up). She turned to me and said “I can’t learn anything new.” It was a moment of clarity, like when someone from a foreign country says “I don’t speak English well,” but they say it in perfect English, which makes you momentarily doubt what they’re saying.

Sibling Safezone

My younger brother, J-Rad and I may have hated each other during the day growing up, but at night we had a truce. We would sneak into each other’s rooms and wake each other up when we were too scared to go to the bathroom alone.

No matter how hard we hit each other that evening, after ‘lights out’ we were a team, and our parents knew nothing about it.

Thanks to the cup of warm juice that Mum gave us religiously before bed, in the wee hours of the morning, one of us would bolt terrified into the other’s room, and shake them with - ‘Can you come to the toilet with me?’ The other would rise, without complaint, happy to provide this reciprocal service.

J-Rad was afraid of large mountain bears. I was afraid of ghosts. Our job was to stand guard outside the closed toilet door, because we both knew bears and ghosts only preyed on those who peed alone.

Before J-Rad was old enough to escort me to the toilet, I used to pee the bed. (In my defense, we lived in an old farm house, and the toilet was a long way away.)  I remember thinking: I really need to pee, but there’s just no fucking way I’m getting out of bed – or ghosts will get me!

In the mornings when my parents asked what had happened, I’d tell them I must have gone in my sleep. So they implemented a chart with colored stars, and I’d get a gold one if my sheets were dry. When that didn’t work, Dad gave me acupuncture.

Only now does it strike me as odd that a six year old child, would be more afraid of telling her parents her fears, than getting stuck with hundreds of tiny needles three times a week.

J-Rad and I continued our nightly ritual for more years than we’d like to admit. Then gradually we outgrew our monsters, and our need to wake each other up.

When I think about our sibling relationship, this story kind of sums us up... because even thought we knew our fears were completely irrational (there are no bears in Australia and neither had ever seen a ghost), on a deeper level we cared enough to respect each other’s inner demons. 

And we still do.

The Other Woman Speaks Out on Oprah

(From the Oprah Show)

Last night The Oprah Show interviewed three former married men’s mistresses, and one who is still in a relationship with a married man. (Link to interview)

Below are my take-aways.  I’m hoping they will spare me from wasting time thinking about lost causes in the future, because these lessons seem to apply to any kind of relationship:

1)  You will never get the time back that you spent on someone who in reality keeps you in second place. (Ouch. This was the biggest regret from the women interviewed.)

2)  All the men made these women feel special, and made extensive plans with them for a future together, even though they never left their wives.

3) You wouldn’t go out to a bar looking for someone who would only give you 30% of their time / love / attention, would you? (Or would you?)

4)  If you’re dating a man who is cheating on their wife, who’s to say they are not going to cheat on you. (It’s very common for mistresses to be cheated on.)

I’ve written pages and pages in my diary about my thoughts on cheating because sometimes I feel conflicted about the topic. It’s become far too common for it to be so black and white, so I'm hoping to gain some more clarity in the future. Seeing this show has certainly helped.

All I Want is to be Inspired

View from the Brooklyn Bridge of lower Manhattan

Actually to be inspired is all I've ever wanted. Definitely my drug of choice.

Right now, this website is doing it for me:
http://www.gapingvoidgallery.com/index.php?cPath=21_28

And this guy (20min talk... will make your eyes shine!):
http://www.ted.com/talks/benjamin_zander_on_music_and_passion.html

And this song:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DO-kspkCp5U&feature=related

Also these songs:
http://www.youtube.com/watch#!v=tjecYugTbIQ&a=Au3gdAXdu1g&playnext_from=ML
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qBJyTMjJIiQ

....and I'm still hungry for more. What inspires you? Do share.