February

February was the month I turned 30. The month I’d been in New York for two years… and then out of no where, except maybe old age, it was the month Ada died.

She died shortly after a stroke which brought her to hospital, where she remained sedated until she passed on.

A candle now burns in her apartment, but her spirit is definitely gone. Gone far far away from here and hopefully to the place she had been yearning to go for so many years. 

 the lioness herself.

Windy Walk

Last night I was feeling blue for no real reason as I walked along 14th street in the freezing gail force wind. Then a huge piece of sheet wood the size of a cubical wall came hurtling towards me like I was in the middle of a hurricane. I pressed myself up against the wall braced for it to hit and then the large window of the HSBC bank a meter beside me exploded out onto the street.

Luckily the piece of wood missed, and there was no one directly infront of the window when it shattered, but had I been two steps infront of myself I would have been hit, and somehow felt like I'd cheated death. (Kind of like Ricky Gervais in Ghost town, when he dodges the falling airconditioning unit... until he steps onto the curb and get hit by a bus).

What does this mean?

Video - It Get's Better

Just quickly, the amazingly talented improviser Becky Drysdale (who I was lucky enough to do one of her classes) has made this awesome video to help lgbtq kids everywhere. I would have totally been in the background of this if I didn't have to work.

Euro Holiday

Just over a week ago, a friend here told me it would cost the same amount to fly to LA as it would to Paris for thanksgiving. On Monday we booked our tickets, and today I fly to Paris.

It's been a long long dream of mind to go to Europe - especially Paris, and I'd always been waiting to do it properly - as in for a long period of time. But stuff it. 4 days will have to do.

Sooooo excited!

Brunch for One

This morning I hastened to leave Anya's as I picked up my bag that I'd left there the night before. While I love her company, and her sun soaked apartment with potatoes boiling on the stove, and gossip girl playing in the background, I still yearned to be somewhere... dining by myself.

Ten minutes later, in a wooded restaurant around the corner, I sit at the bar awash with Miles Davis. A lady beside me spreads her paper and ordered eggs, a lady behind me takes out her novel and sips her coffee. Brunch for one all round please.

Outside the crisp cool air reminds me of those sunny but cold Toowoomba days. My coat is on the back of my chair, my scarf still around my neck. I feel very lucky. The change of season can only truly be embraced once you stop and observe it -  preferably quietly, over a cup of tea and a plate of eggs benedict.

Photo credit: My Cup of Tea

Dad Joke

When talking to my father about Ada's incontinence problem, he said "Well, I guess shit happens."
Long pause while he laughs at his own joke.

I Love You (An Awkward Family Moment)

The first time I recall my father ever saying the words “I love you” to us kids was when I was 14 and my brother was J-Rad 12. We were driving back from a Church on a Sunday night (our family liked to "dabble" in Christianity for curiosity’s sake) and were discussing weather we agreed with tonight’s service or not. After a comfortable silence, Dad glanced back at us and said matter-of-factly: “Kids, I love you.” This segued nicely into a very uncomfortable silence. So he continued - “I know we never say it to each other, but we should be able to, and I’d like to hear you say it back.”

J-Rad and I had frozen - stupefied in the back seat. It’s not that we didn’t know he loved us it’s just, as he said, we had never been in the habit of expressing it this way. Maybe you come from a family like that. Or maybe your family is not very affectionate or has other quirks and rituals. Each to their own really. Love is more about actions than it is about words, so saying them out loud felt unnecessary. Like being hit over the head with a giant fish. 

I remember in that moment feeling a mixture of both pleasant surprise and severe nausea. The same feelings one gets when watching an episode Seventh Heaven. Finally I made the first move, and muttered quickly: “I love you too.” It was weird, and I was relieved to have it over and done with. J-Rad just sat there refusing to say it - likely contemplating a jump and roll from our moving vehicle. “No I’m not saying it!” he said.

In the years that followed that awkward conversation, both my Dad and my Step-Mum continued to say it every now and again. We noticed the ease with which our step-siblings would return the words – even initiating it at the end of their phone conversations. 

Gradually it became a more natural way to articulate the love we felt, without needing to gag. I even tried it out on Mum and her side of the family, who would freeze, not knowing what to say back. “Rito, yes, bye – uh, you too,” Nanny would say - taken by surprise if I used it on the phone.

A few months ago, I received a letter from Nanny in the mail telling me about J-Rad’s new job offer in Sydney:

The last thing J-Rad said to me when he brought his things here from his unit … [he was going traveling]. He kissed me and gave me a hug and said he loved me. How lucky I am to have a grandson like him and a granddaughter like you. We are so blessed.

It made my eyes water reading it. For a family who rarely knew how to verbalize love so freely, we are all doing a grand job of it now. I’m grateful to Dad for his courageousness in opening that door to us as teens, and the persistence it took to change our families habits. We certainly don't over use it. But we can say it when we want to, without feeling too weird.

So there it is dearest fam. I love you.

photo credits:Aurigid meterorite #2 Ice cased Adelie Pengins The future is bright