I know I’ve been quite again for a while; but
in my defence, nothing worth blogging about has been going on.Will was in Africa for three weeks and I was
just working and catching up with friends at J Crew.Actually, I take that back... I did spend a
week working at a fabulous hair salon in Atlanta called Douglas and Co. (as a receptionist! Settle down, they wouldn't actually let me
cut anyone’s hair!!). It was a great
time and learning experience; with the best part being the before and after
transformations of clients: enter dishevelled hag... exit Malibu Barbie (extremity
of cases varying of course!)
I also came away from it with a new,
God-sent hair dresser; the kind you can consult with before an appointment and
trust that they actually have your best interest in mind. I’ve always wanted a hair dresser I can
blindly trust and now I have one! YAY! Thanks Erica x Needless to say, I will now recommend
Douglas and Co. to all friends/ acquaintances/ dishevelled hags I come across
in need of a decent salon and boast shamelessly about how fantastic and healthy
my hair looks and feels.
Moving on... Will is setting out for
another work trip tomorrow (yes, he has only been home for 5 days) and this
time he insists on me accompanying him since we’ve hardly seen each other this
past month. This will be a weeklong trip
to Indiana, Michigan, Illinois and Wisconsin; including 4th July spent at a street festival in Chicago!! I am therefore trying desperately to get my shifts covered at J Crew so
I can go... fingers crossed!
Home is more than a place in which one lives, home becomes an instinct. Just as birds are instinctively homing to their summer nesting grounds, so do we eventually feel drawn to the one place that becomes our home. We associate our homes with comfort, warmth, happiness, familiarity and predictability, each creating our own order and way of life.
I have had three very distinct, very precious homes. And a sweet story from a friend on Facebook has made me want to share a little about these homes.
The first was the rental on Annie St in Brisbane city, where my parents, brother and I lived when we'd first arrived from Kazakhstan to Australia. I was here until I was 11 years old. This home was surrounded by a community and network of almost all the kids I was at school and church with. Most of us were foreigners with complicated names and parents that were studying and working hard, which enabled us to have practically unsupervised afternoons on week days and get into all sorts of mischief as a result. Our different backgrounds taught us from an early age to embrace cultural and language differences and we each were able to grow confident in ourselves as a result. Our teachers encouraged very healthy unison through multicultural fusion and days were we would each bring a plate of our traditional food, or teach the classroom several words in our native languages.
To this day I maintain bonds of friendship with the kids and teachers from that school and in that suburb, whether forged through mutual punishments for convicted mischief, or through the difficulty in international acclimation and the tenacity it took to simultaneously learn English and keep up with the educational curriculum. I will always recall this home and these years of my life as some of the very happiest and best.
Age 11 brought much heart ache and misery, when the house my parents built was completed and I was forced to move across town to the South Brisbane suburb of Kuraby. A new suburb, new school, new teachers and kids; most of whom were Australian with the same culture, simple names and trouble saying mine. I felt very ostracized and instinctively gravitated toward the only other foreign girl there. We are still great friends, but she would be the last true friend I made during my adolescence in the south of Brisbane, for the following year brought high school and after that college, both adding more loneliness and misery.
I lived in this house until I was 19 and I've often wished I could call it a home, yet I can't. Family is one thing, but I was always happier when we were at the beach for holidays or away on weekends. I struggled keeping friends during these 8 years and begun to brood about a lot. It was excellent for my creative writing, since I wrote some of my best work up the stairs in that little back bedroom, but I was becoming a social recluse and developing some kind of depression as a result. All of this would, over the years, increase my negative associations with this house further.
My second home was in Rockhampton, QLD; where I moved at the age of 20 to pursue my college major and attempt independence. Rocky (as it's known in Aus) saved me! Here I met my sister and best friend for life, as well a multitude of other great friends and a family that quickly embraced me as their own; one that I could never now function without. I guess my attempt at independence failed, since I went from one family to another, but there is definitely something to be said for being loved unconditionally by a family that's not related to you: it grows your confidence immensely (while studying and slaving away in the hospitality industry helped too!).
I had believed that I would grow old in Rocky, preferably close to my bestie and the beach, yet at the age of 23, I was forced to give up my comfort zone, my bubble and home in Rockhampton due a force not to be reckoned with. It was one that had defeated me, body and soul: love. As I've previously mentioned, I'd fallen in love with a travelling American boy who was stationed temporarily on the other side of Australia. Despite fighting tooth and nail to deny the reality of my feelings and our future - I was overcome.
We lived together on the beautiful Scarborough Beach in Western Australia for six months, before an utter miracle took us back across the country to my beloved Rocky, where we were married less than two months later. It wasn't long hereafter (and by no great surprise) that we were uprooted again. In September 2010 (as most of my readers know), I made my second international migration, to the USA; and here, I have found my third home.
Although we've only just moved into a new apartment in Midtown Atlanta, and we're not fully settled in yet, I've now moved around so much that I'm not as attached to dwellings as I am to people. I've learnt that it's never the house that becomes a home - but rather the people in or around it. Having just celebrated our second wedding anniversary, I've realized that my love has only grown for this ungrounded, travelling boy and my third and final home is by his side. As my friend said today in his touching story:
Over Christmas time, Will’s uncle Sean leant me a book on astrology called “Linda Goodman’s Sun Signs.” It describes the typical characteristics and traits of each signs’ woman, man, child, employee, boss – and I can’t put it down!
I’m now analyzing everyone I know based on their sign and frequently muttering “so true” as I turn a page. Everyone in my life from my parents, brother and husband to casual acquaintance and work colleague has been studied over the past fortnight – because thanks to Facebook, I know everyone’s birthday!
I am not exempt from my own analysis! Some of the horrible things brought to my attention about being an Aries are:
- we have very black and white opinions, no gray area: people are either good or bad (I am learning to curve this however!)
- and once we decide someone is bad – they typically don’t get another chance and stay bad forever (this is hard to change, but I’m working on this too!)
- if we’re mad at someone, those close to us have to take our side – or else we argue!
- we tend to “overload” periodically from society and seek solitude
- we’re not morning people
- we hate/ can’t abide routine: that includes our jobs, we can’t do 9-5’s
- FIRE SIGN: our interest in places, people and things burn like hot fire and then go out again just as quickly once we’re bored – for this reason we struggle to commit to projects, assignments and people! We rarely see things through til the end
- impatient
- impulsive, impulsive, impulsive (gets me in trouble sometimes!)
Some of the things I love about being an Aries are:
- loyalty, honestly, complete faithfulness
- we would never stab someone in the back, since we tend to tell people exactly what we are thinking (even when we shouldn’t!)
- once we decide someone is a good person:
- there is no limit to what we do for them!
- we share 100% in friendship: money, our homes, clothes.. you name it
- and never hold a grudge
- we don’t stay mad long
- we defend, protect them and always take their side
- we are creative and expressive.... some of the world’s most creative peeps were Arians including Vincent Van Gogh, Charlie Chaplin, Bach, Andrew Lloyd Webber, Quentin Tarantino , Elton John, Descartes, Hans C. Andersen , Harry Houdini and MANY more!... (if you want to see which famous people share your sign, check out: www.astrostar.com and search your sign.)
- impulsive, impulsive, impulsive (I love it also because my impulses are usually right!)
- can’t sit still, very active minded and seldom overweight
- not so much a love of travel as a constant need of change
- we are very spiritual and believe in miracles – because of our fervent belief, miracles tend to indeed happen to us Arians!
I have found this book and its “typical” descriptions of everyone in my life very accurate. If you’ve ever been curious about astrology, I’d recommend it! Now that everyone in my life has been analyzed (like the typical Aries I am), I am moving onto my next phase of interest: (and indecently the next book I’ve borrowed from Uncle Sean) the ancient astronaut theory.
But “Linda Goodman’s Sun Signs” will definitely be bought and filed on my bookshelf for instant reference as soon as a new person enters my life!
2012 is already shaping up to be an amazing year! I awoke this morning and stood on the scales, (documenting my weight and being strict was a New Year's goal, remember?) eager to write down my weight and formulate an action plan of fitness to kick start immediately… when I noticed I am already at my goal weight! The hard-yakka I put in for the last three weeks of 2011 paid off!! This was my miracle #1! I get to start the New Year at my goal weight and everyone knows maintenance is easier than achievement, in weight terms.
Elated, I paced impatiently back and forth, waiting for Will to get off the phone so I could tell him my great news… when he abruptly hung up the phone and announced our miracle #2: that our planned two week trip back to Australia in November is being extended to a WHOLE MONTH!! Conveniently, his boss needs him to go back over for work – so another bonus? His ticket will be on the company!!
I can hardly contain my excitement and am so grateful and happy that I could burst! This reiterates how important it is to implement LOA (attraction) practices every single day!
I hate the word resolution! No body ever sticks to them, but here is my list of GOALS for 2012 (with bonus pep-talks!):
+ try not to eat carbs – for they indeed are your enemy and you gain weight very fast when eating them!
+ religiously maintain new skincare regimen – you know how old you are, you don’t need to mention it online, but remember: IN 5 YEARS TIME YOUR SKIN WILL BE AS LEATHERY AND WRINKLY AS A PRUNE IF YOU DO NOT HEED THIS RESOLUTION!
+ walk Baxter EVERYDAY (unless raining, snowing or below 5 degrees outside) – no more using “I’m too tired” as an excuse, remember he is completely dependent on you and you need to be a better mum!
+ be in touch with Aus more often – BAD friend, BAD daughter, BAD sister!
+ write more
+ document weight/ fitness routine rigorously and hold yourself accountable – stay motivated, remember your metabolism isn’t what it was and that this is becoming a real issue for you!
+ try to be a better house-wife – yes cleaning sucks, and you’re pressed for time, but you never want to see those dust balls again (remember under couch when moving apartments)…
+ keep implementing “law of attraction” practices every day ~ it’s vital not to stop! (remember and be thankful for every miracle in 2011!)
There are certain milestones we pass that mark our progression into the following stage of our life; whatever that stage may be. Today, during a phone conversation with my bank manager, it occurred to me that this is it! My milestone moment from adolescence into adulthood. We were talking of finalising our buyer's contract for the apartment in Midtown that Will and I have found - at long last - and all of the fees, paperwork and legal issues associated; all very grown up stuff, (that was only very slightly over my head).
But owning a home for the very first time is a grown up thing to do. I've officially welcomed adulthood and with it, words like "mortgage," "tax reimbursement," "resale," "lease option" and "ombudsman" into my life, which does make me a little sad for the irresponsible adolescent within whom I've had to (also officially) farewell.
It is ironic that this farewell coincides with my rediscovery of rock & roll; for try as I might - I have begrudgingly realised that I am far from the angry, emotional mess I was, not five years ago, when I could stand to listen to it for more than an hour a day! I have grown and I am happy with the trade-off to have become Lena:wife, writer, poet; calm, collected, dexterous; woman, homeowner;but, the latter has me feeling like a wild bird that has been caged for the first time, flapping my wings frantically and lamenting lost freedom.
It's different for Will, who's owned an entire house before - not just an apartment in the city - but an ancient house that he lovingly renovated; a house associated with another first in his life that he did not share with me. In many ways, my husband hit adulthood long before he'd even met me; and has patiently waited for this free-spirited, carefree yet unsure girl within me to catch up with him. Since it's been nothing at all to date for me to simply 'up and leave' or restart my life at beckoned call - somehow owning a home is very grounding. It's an experience that's making me feel tied down, which is a new sensation within me; one that I'm having mixed emotions about. On one hand: it's about time to have a 'home'. On the other, I fret for our unrealised plans; like living in Europe or exploring the world. Things that seem easier without an accumulation of possessions or a 'mortgage'. Marrying Will was not scary at all compared to this. He was the best man I'd ever met and perfect in every way. No doubts. Period. Yet this milestone, somehow underlines words like housewife, mother, cook - all insecurities within me for the new role I'm taking on.
I know it sounds so silly! Since living together for two and a half years, our arrangements and dynamics are long established; yet, the unsettled nature of our immediate plans, together with renting and having undefined long term goals, somehow relieved the pressure. I'd say things like: 'when we get a home, I want to paint the walls this way' and 'we can do this' or 'we should buy that', even 'I'll start cooking Russian food:' implying that I didn't have to worry about any of it until such time as we get a home. Now I wonder - has the time come? Is this the future we didn't plan for? Are we ready to really settle down? Become grounded? Have kids? Bid adieu to our free spirit and spontaneity? And actually (I wonder the most), will I fail at everything?
I wonder if this crossroad between logic and emotion is the typical experience when one transitions into adulthood... Will's told me that he was terrified when he bought his first house too, so maybe I'm not alone in my constant mood shifts from excitement to panic - which I'm hoping will abate soon!
Regardless of my moods, I know my prologue is wrapping up. Upon our contract close, chapter 1 of my adult mini-series begins - and with my new job that actually pays at regular intervals: I'm in good shape to play the part. Will says that nothing has to change, but either way: we've taken the plunge now so this is it! No going back.
Staind's once played-non-stop classic hit "it's been a while" came on the radio today. I realised that I either hadn't heard or had intentionally avoided it for five years straight and I was blown away by the miraculous effect it had on me! As if by a time machine, I felt physically lifted from where I was standing - without even closing my eyes - to my first ever trip to Rockhampton in 2005 with Dan; when he drove me out to meet his dad on the farm that he was living on at the time.
As I began to remember everything and feel exactly what I had back then, it dawned on me somewhere in my subconscious mind: that the emotions attached to hearing an old song have the power to invoke every sense. I could hear the ridiculously loud motor noise of his 180SX and his voice lightly signing along with an implication towards me in the tone; and I could smell Dan's "LYNX" cologne mingled with the ever present smell of cigarettes. Every detail of the trip replayed in my head like a photo-reel: the arrival, the farm animals, shooting a gun for my first time, Hungry Jacks for dinner and that glorious night sky... to this day the most amazing I have seen: a completely unobstructed and vivid view of the entire milky way with a slight greenish tint surrounding it, with stars as bright and far as the eye could see!
It was quite shocking how easily things that I hadn't thought about in years poured over me when I heard this song; like a massive and heavy wave that was preventing me from breathing and almost suffocating me; until the song was over and I was suddenly back in my kitchen with Baxter at my feet, looking curiously up at me while the radio announcer yapped on about the upcoming and one night only Staind concert in a few weeks time down the street. This hypnosis-like phenomenon sparked a revelation within me that I was determined to prove again as I ripped out my old Staind, Pearl Jam, Tool and Drowning Pool albums and listened to them one by one.
Although not as powerful as that initial shocking encounter with Aaron Lewis' voice in the kitchen - the hypnosis affect was definitely (albeit vaguely) present throughout each song! I somehow remembered every lyric, every pause and even every instrumental feature. It felt awesome! Like catching up with the best friends that I've ever had, who I haven't heard from in years, but bumped into to find that we're still as close as ever! I feel like Staind grew with me at the same time I did. From the first albums "Tormented" and "Dysfunction" that were as heavy, hateful and angry as I was at the time, to "The illusion of progress" in 2008 which was self-accepting, forgiving and in love. I often felt the lyrics were written specifically for and about me. "Believe" reduced me to tears tonight just like it did the first time I'd ever heard it. I remember desperately needing a confidence boost at that point in my life when I felt truly alone and broken, and BEHOLD: there it was in the lyrical genius of one of my musical idols.
Despite their lyrical relevance, my best friends (fav bands) during high school were so heavy that I hid them from my parents and sometimes even my brother. I remember begging dad for a discman to be able to listen to my beloved death metal free of criticism from my family or my mother's fear for the damnation of my soul. I had to hide album covers, especially Tool and A Perfect Circle who adorned witch craft symbols and Slipknot and Korn, whose covers were just weird. And in the off chance I was caught, I fiercely defended my best friends by justifying their lyrics or life experiences that had made them so angry! I'll never forget justifying Slipknot's self titled album cover that mum found in my room: (it seems so funny now, yet I was actually afraid she'd take it away from me for good!... I told her:) "they aren't insane or devil worshipers! They're famous and protecting their identities! Their music is very profound, people = shit is a great message!" LOL
Although me and my musical taste have both mellowed out over the past 1/2 decade, I have really enjoyed getting reacquainted with my best friends, who I abandoned, but who utterly got me through high school; by comforting me, always being by my side and reminding me that I'm not alone in my loneliness, fears, pain and hardship. Now that I'm a "woman" who's happily married and comfortable with who I am, it's ironic to hear songs associated with past torment, insecurity and heartache. Everything was a tragedy back then - complete life and death scenario - yet the parents were right in saying it was always a learning curve.
Staind's "Tangled up in you" used to mean something entirely different to me and was in reference to the off again, on again experience with Dan that lasted 8 years of my life. I felt it a little jolt of it as I heard it for the first time tonight, yet as I lay soaking in the tub and really listening to the lyrics, I thought of Will and I: how we're in such a great place in our life together - fully trusting, completely happy. ...How he's off tonight in Illinois celebrating Veteran's day his mates and fellow Veterans, and how I'm happy that he's having fun, yet missing him dreadfully and wishing he was home. These thoughts lead to thoughts of another song called "God bless the broken road" by the Rascal Flats. It was our wedding song and it talks of broken relationships that lead to our finding each other. I really have gone soft.
There really is something to be said for just feeling healthy! I am so aware right now of how blessed I am and how grateful I should be for simply feeling good or functional most of the time! Today I am sore literally all over - not like how people say that when they're exaggerating or complaining, but really! - my hands hurt, my head is splitting, my stomach, back, legs and feet! If that's not all over then I don't know what is.
The reason I'm so sore is the same reason I've been such a recluse lately. My last post was almost two weeks ago and that was probably the last moment I had to just sit by myself and relax with a cuppa [that means cup of tea/ coffee to anyone who's not Aussie] while updating my blog.
Ever since the last week of October, I have not stopped or slowed down for one second! With so much going on, I need to make a list just to keep track of it all myself:
As soon as we got home I had to start catching up on 3 weeks worth of dirty laundry - which was no mean feat by the way. Will kept finding his dirty clothes in random places, like his office or the car, and adding to the pile daily!
While our landlord has graciously allowed us to stay on indefinitely; our lease is now on borrowed time and we have been frantically searching for apartments in Midtown to move to. That has meant perusing countless websites, meeting agents, trying to find the right one and visiting what feels like a hundred different properties in person. This week is ultra stressful with me working and Will being out of town again!
This week was in fact the start of my new job in fashion retail (and everything that comes with that - shopping for new shoes, clothes, reading induction manuals 1,000 pages long!). The hours have suprisingly turned out to be insane! With an 'open shift' commencing at 8am, even though the store doesn't open until 10, and a 'close shift' ending at 11pm!! Even though the store closes at 9. It's physically tough to transition from a job where I sat all day writing, to one where I'm lifting heavy things and running or standing all day long. (Hence the current aches and pains).
On top of this, I've been desperately clasping at any free time to wrap up lingering writing assignments
And to touch base with colleagues, friends and family in both Australia and Atlanta, so as to not offend anyone - but I feel like I'm failing miserably and letting people down left, right and centre!
All of this while dealing with a sore throat, temperamental fever and blocked nose! I know it's not very Bourgeois of me, but I wish I could just lay down and be sick!
PS: Pumpkin status update: I've stayed true to my word and tried everything pumpkin I could get my hands around. Now I've stopped due to an expanding waistline and certain outfits no longer getting around me! Pumpkin bread has turned out to be my favourite and I find I prefer the savoury pumpkin stuff; since everything sweet has 'pumpkin spice' added to it which is kind of a nutmeg/ cinnamon fusion that I find over-bearing after a while.
PPS: The colours of autumn are well and truly surrounding the city and as soon as I get some time to myself, I will take to the streets - camera in hand - and take some pics of the multi coloured slendor
Another hectic week has all but passed me by. I returned home on Monday to fulfill a work commitment at Atlanta's MedTrade, (leaving Will and Baxter alone in Arkansas) and tomorrow I will spend the majority of my day in various airports, awaiting the connecting flights that will eventually take me back to Little Rock, Arkansas. This weekend will be the final breadth of our month long journey and honestly, it has not come soon enough!
I'm feeling utterly exhausted, listening to Michael Buble's Home and thinking that travel can become somewhat of a deception. It truly sounds enticing, glamorous even; but it's definitely not all champagne, limos, 5 star hotels, adventure and excitement. The reality is that simply driving, sitting in the passenger’s seat, or flying can be exhausting, and even if excitement is present - it's that very excitement that makes you weary by the end of the day. It's a strange phenomenon that the human brain can only take so much excitement before it turns into irrational irritation or utter exhaustion.
I know that I am blessed and I am eternally grateful for the sights I've seen, people and opportunities I've encountered and experiences I've had; but honestly, being out on the open road or jet setting is hard, frustrating business!
Some of the major things that make travelling so frustrating are:
Airport security. I have to mention them first because, let's face it, none of us can stand them. They are probably the kids that got pushed around in school, or the adults that get pushed around at home: and desperately need to assert their authority in some way. These airport security officers are often unreasonable, pushy and just plain mean. (Can you tell I'm not looking forward to our encounter tomorrow?)
Another frustration is modern technology that we have come to rely upon like oxygen, in order to get by! A faulty GPS that can get you lost, or a mobile phone with a dying battery that can lead to all sorts of grief!
Next on the frustration meter are the hotels; as annoying as it is when you can't even a 3 star hotel, what's worse are those hotels claiming to be star rated, but look as if they are ran by the caravan-park association of No Standardsville. There's nothing worse than stained towels or dirty bed sheets! Those horrible goose bumps that rise and the immediate discomfort that spreads from the pit of your stomach to the roots of your hair! I would (and have) sooner sleep in my car than a dirty hotel!
The final thing I find extremely frustrating about travelling, are the unhelpful people in service jobs! Universal dictionaries define service as the act of helping or working for somebody - yet, more often than not, there is an attitude from these people who are (willingly) employed in the industry! This attitude pushes me to breaking point when I am either hungry, lost, feeling unwell, simply exhausted (or all of the above!) and just need some help from a decent human being that understands.
I've had moments where I've literally wanted to stomp my feet and cry because of the sheer number of events that have consecutively gone wrong! Sure, you might think the rewards of travel are greater than the off chance of incurring a problem or two; but really, that is being naiive. When you have been en-route from place and sight to place and sight for two or more weeks: your weariness, sleep deprivation and intolerance all set in, until you no longer care for the mountains, wildlife, cuisine or any form of sightseeing. That's usually when I find myself envisioning my own bed, or a home cooked meal, until a beckoning melody of home begins play louder and louder in my head with every gas station I stop at, or every airport I am cursed with.
It's interesting (and Michael Buble' will concur): no matter your age, everyone sets out on a trip all fresh faced and wide eyed - but soon yearn for home like nothing they've ever craved before.
For some reason, ever since I visited the Frontier in Abilene, I've felt a little homesick. Maybe its the history and pride of Texas that has made me feel proud to be Australian and it has once again hit me that I've been away from home for an entire YEAR!
Since I'm married to the world's best person, he took it upon himself to find me an Australian dinner; but when he couldn't, he reverted to the next best thing... Dallas has a very large Russian population, so tonight Will has given me a very "homey" one here in Texas. We visited a deli that has the largest variety of international food anywhere in the city. The Eastern European section here is bursting with my Russian favorites including homemade meals that taste every bit as good as mama’s!
After stocking up with traditional pastries, salads, juices and candies, I passed away the evening watching vintage Russian cartoons and sipping kvac. Ironically, these traditional Russian things remind me of Brisbane Aus and our old backyard gazebo, palm trees and pool! So in a way, it sort of is Australian food.
It seems strange that here in the heart of west Texas, home of America’s cowboy, I’m enjoying a Russian banquet! And it’s funny to think that my heritage, multi-linguistics and cultural diversity are today some my most prized assets, yet these things about me gave me such a complex growing up. I now often tell Will that I plan to raise our children the same way my parents raised me: by forcing them to attend Russian school, or ignoring them until they speak to me in Russian! Got to be cruel to be kind and I see that now - so thanks mum and dad! xo
Today is the anniversary of my first year in Atlanta US. I’m feeling quite mixed because time has flown by so fast and it doesn’t feel at all like I’ve been away from home an entire year. I still almost feel like I’m on vacation since Will and I travel so much and explore every chance we get. But when I realize that I have been away from home an entire year it makes me sad and suddenly I’m feeling pensive and missing home very much.
Some of the major things I miss (aside from the obvious friends and family) are random things that I never would have expected to! Like sausage rolls or being called “love.” I often miss living close to the beach and picture the sea spray caressing my skin or inhaling the salty air. I remember how strange it seemed to me the first time I flew over America that cities stood in the middle of land mass without a coastal outline anywhere in sight, just like ant hills in a desert; and it almost made me feel trapped since I have never lived more than a half hours’ drive from an ocean.
Of course I’d met Americans back in Aus but never suspected there would be such a cultural difference between us. It’s just wide enough to ensure my automatic gravitation towards anyone Australian in the US and feel a bond of friendship even if they turn out to be a real tosser! At least we have the same sense of humor and understand what it is to crave things like “normal” bbq sauce, bacon, lattes and a decent cup of hot tea. We know what it is to occasionally forget to tip hairdressers, sales assistants and other people who are already paid to do their work; or how to laugh at ourselves when we've made a really great joke, as well as the pleasure of not having to explain that Kath and Kim or Steve Irwin were a gimmick – and not how most Aussies actually behave!
Photo credit: emerils.com
I guess more than anything I miss familiarity – and predictability. It’s so unsettling when you can’t predict basic things like dress codes (everyone in the South dresses WAY up for football games and sports bars!) and food presentation (this is an American “chicken salad sandwich” – it’s an actual chicken-salad). Of course a lot of that is starting to stick but often when we do eat out Will tells me “don't order that – it’s not what you think it is.”
Reflecting upon my first year, I would definitely say my highlights have been: my gorgeous apartment and lifestyle in Midtown Atlanta, my mini poodle Baxter who Will bought as a companion for me within the first week of our arrival, my 1st white Christmas and snowed-in day, the amazing experience of seasonal changes, baseball at the stadium, my professional photo shoot for my fav boutique My! My! My! in Atlanta (which is now featured on their website!!), trips to NY Fashion Week and the privilege to meet and work with the most amazing, elegant and inspirational women’s’ (old-school European) couture designer: Nina Gleyzer.
Spring blossoms Midtown Atlanta Baxter and I
Although I feel homesick and pensive with "I still call Australia home" stuck in my head; I have enjoyed my first year in the US immensely. My favourite places have so far been: New York City, New Orleans, Biloxi, Fort Worth and College Station Texas. I will expand on why I loved these places and more of my travel highlights during the week. For now I will wrap up and go to dinner to celebrate: happy anniversary to me.
Last week, I moved from Brisbane QLD, Australia to Atlanta GA, USA so I'm a very fresh immigrant; but is not my first international migration. I was 6 years old when my parents, brother and I left Kazakhstan (yes, the same one as Borat!) and moved to Australia - a country that adopted us and swallowed us whole. Since we were so young and both starting school at the primary level, I think it's safe to call my brother and I Australian; but our parents did their best to ensure that we retained as much of our Russian heritage as possible. Now that I'm older, bilingual and have been exposed to such differentideologies and cultures, I consider myself blessed beyond belief. For as challenging as it was sometimes to grow up feeling like an outsider; I now see that this adversity helped shape me into a stronger and more open-minded person. My parents are also responsible for the travel bug within me, since from our very first month in Australia, they always took my bro and I somewhere different and interesting on weekends. We would go to the beaches, mountains or State parks that surround Brisbane; on road trips to other States; or simply attend cultural landmarks such as museums, art galleries, theatres and concert halls... we always went somewhere! The repercussion is that now, regardless of where I am permanently stationed, I become restless and need to travel; or at the very least explore the localities surrounding me. I had thought that once I visited those places within Australia I had always wanted to see, that Europe would be my next destination. I didn't ever imagine I would end up in Atlanta USA... or that I would be living FOUR HOURS drive from a the ocean - which had long ago become somewhat of a lifeline to me... But life had her own plans and so last year, I met an American boy named Will, fell madly in love and married almost instantly. Will calls Atlanta home and brought me back with him, now making it my home too. This means that soon I will be exploring Atlanta and its surrounding areas, so I wanted to start a blog of my adventures and acclimation into a new country and home. Of course I know it won't be easy and there'll probably be a few soppy posts about homesickness and the like; but hopefully you'll stick with me, give me lots of feedback and enjoy being a part of my new world.
