STEPH VERSUS WORLD

I have a new article out on Indie Travel Podcast. It is about food, so Sydney peeps might be interested. I just had a friend over for a chat, and we spent about an hour talking about food. We were planning our menu for Christmas lunch, and let me tell you now, it will be delicious. I haven’t told the companion yet, but he needs to cook something as well. I am planning to cook something called ‘rusula’. I have tried to look it up on Wikipedia but it is not there. Anyway, it is a Basque recipe, which is basically stuffed mushrooms. I am into mushrooms at the moment. Which is weird, since I hated mushrooms as a kid.

Speaking of Indie Travel Podcast, they are currently working very hard at editing my book. Unfortunately it won’t be out for Christmas, but it will out early 2010. Don’t worry, I will be mass-emailing everyone when it does.

Beware. Achtung. Stop reading if you do not want to throw up your dinner. I am about to start a long gush.

Today I feel quite pleasant. Happy, even. The sun was shining its shiny-ness, I had been zooming around all day in my new car, plus the ipod just blasted out a couple of my favourite Chili Peppers songs by random coincidence. Yet another random coincidence is that my car number plate is the year of my birth. Do not even ask me how that happened, but I’m not complaining.

Things have been up and down, but mostly up. Life has never been busier or more interesting. A large part of this I have to thank the lovely companion, who has introduced me to the many depths and extremes of what human emotions are capable of. He is the most melodramatic, curious and illogical person I have ever met, yet in all his flawed splendour, he makes me feel like I am finally living my life.

For example if it wasn’t for him, I would never have heard of Chris Guillebeau or Smashing Magazine, two very different yet relevant resources that continue to inspire me in my writing and artistic pursuits.

I am also starting to appreciate music a lot more. His enthusiasm for it means that we are now the proud owners of tickets to two big music festivals in Sydney – Big Day Out and Future. I have lived in Sydney for this many years and they will be my first music festivals. I know, shame on me! Anyhow, I am really excited.

Being in the web business also means he regularly spews out technical terms such as SEO, HTML, CSS et cetera. To me it used to be mumbo-jumbo, but I am starting to understand its importance in my future travel writing career.

As a true-blue city girl, I am also regularly entertained with stories about his culture and life out in the Basque countryside, where his extended family milk cows, make cheese and wine, and farm animals. My childhood consisted of flight paths, highways, and dirty sidewalks, so blissful country life seems fascinating. The point is, we never run out of things to talk about. I love this. So thank you, for putting up with me, and sharing yourself with me all the way on this side of the world. Things are looking up.

In the lifespan of my architectural career, I have always worked in small offices. By small I mean you can count the number of people with one or two hands. This suited me really well, because I had the notion that the smaller the practice, the lesser the work, the more cosy the experience. I wasn’t far from the truth, for I never worked one day of overtime in my life, always got paid fairly and on time, and work was by no means extremely difficult or stressful. Hell, I even had fun. Even though I stayed no longer than 3 years in each office I worked in so I may pursue other endeavours, I always left with memories that became good in hindsight, and most importantly made dear friendships that have lasted to this day.

Small practices have all but disappeared from the face of Sydney in the past year or two. People who had established themselves for 5-6 years have packed up and shipped themselves back to the corporate world. Although sad, it’s a current reality in the construction industry and everyone, including me, have had to purse our lips and go to work in one of the few bigwig companies that are still thriving. The company that currently pays my bills employ more than 50 people. In a place with so many people one might think that the chances of making friends dramatically increases ten-fold. Ironically this is not the case, and hard as it is to believe, I do not like one single person at work. There are people I am indifferent to, there are people who annoy me sometimes, and there are people who downright infuriate me every time I see them.

For example there is Mr Arrogant who barely graduated out of uni who bosses 6-7 people around like he is the bomb. What really infuriates me is that people let him. He has amazing Pr skills with upper management and uses every opportunity to be mate-y with them. If one is having lunch alone at the balcony, he will zoom out there with his lunch. The other day I even caught him dressing exactly like one of them – ergo polo shirt with collar upturned, skinny pants and thongs. Mr Arrogant has not spoken one word to me ever since I started working there in September and I’m more than happy to keep it that way. Stay in your corner 3 meters away from me at all times.

It’s not surprising then that Mr Arrogant is good pals with Ms Airhead. Ms Airhead landed the job because her parents are friends with the founder of the company. She does not have any real qualifications and flits around asking people to draft drawings for her because she does not know how to use the computer except for Facebook. Sure, this sounds a bit harsh, but it is true. She occasionally comes around Mr Arrogant’s desk, giggles over a private joke, and skips back to her side with a big grin on her face.

Then there’s everyone else that I don’t care about. What more is there to say? I just need to hold out another 11 months.

Over the weekend a very special event occurred, which I had the privilege to attend. A couple of dear friends got married. It was my first same-sex wedding and it was thrilling to be there. Non-traditional in every sense, the two grooms embraced the scorching afternoon heat by complementing their white shirts, vests and ties with cotton shorts. The best thing about it was the bright smiles on their faces and the happiness emanating from their bodies.

It was meant to be a casual get-together of their closest friends, sharing this special moment in their lives over a few cocktails. When they stood up at the corner, making their speeches and declaring their love for each other with matching Frank Gehry rings in an elevated bar overlooking Sydney harbour, I couldn’t help but feel emotional at that extreme moment of beauty. It couldn’t have been more perfect. I know, I am such a sentimental sod.

Anyway, congrats again to A and F. Live forever.

Friends near and around Sydney, I know we probably haven’t seen so much of each other due to months of bad public transport and exhaustingly long bus trips. Well, if you are wondering, ‘I wonder why Steph doesn’t come around anymore?’, wonder no more. In exactly 6 days, I will be at a neighbourhood near you. Or in your neighbourhood. Maybe in your house. In your kitchen. Eating your food. Playing with your cats. I shall invite myself. This is because I bought myself a car over the weekend. It is due to arrive into my greedy little arms on Monday. Friends, that is 6 days from today. Soon, you will be wondering why I come around so freaking often.

It is a cute little Mazda 2 Neo. It was sitting there under the shade in the car yard. Beckoning. I walked past and checked out the other cars, but I knew it was going to be this one. If you asked me one week ago if I was ever going to buy this car, I would have said no. The entire year I had wanted to return and get another Toyota Rav4. I searched high and low but to no avail. So this week I had an epiphany while walking to the station one morning. It suddenly occurred to me that if I was not to own a large 4 x 4, I shall own a mini-car. That I decided, and the very weekend I went and bought my very first brand spanking new car.

So, friends, be prepared.

Is there such a thing as post-travel depression? PTD. For I fear I am suffering from it. Sudden bouts of the blues erupt out of nowhere, and I spend miserable long minutes reminiscing on the life that seemed real yet so unreal. It has been almost 6 months now since I’ve returned to fragments of the life I used to have, and once in a while a giant wave of PTD hits me and somehow food isn’t as tasty and people aren’t as interesting.

What are the remedies for PTD? Even couchsurfing has lost its gleam and I have stopped advertising my couch for surfing. It is a whole different ballgame on the other side, and I have been bitterly disappointed that none of the people I have hosted have displayed the enthusiasm I had when the tables were turned. Perhaps I am expecting too much out of Sydney, and everything else, for that matter. Alas, it is an affliction that I cannot reverse.

PTD, I hate you. I want to banish you forever.

Right this moment I really should be getting off the computer and doing something more leisurely like read a book but there is just one little bit of awesome I feel like sharing. Just hours ago I received what I hope will be the second-last amendment to my book contract. Ok, so my 12,000-odd words will be starting its life as an e-book, but holding an actual printed contract in my hands seemed exciting. And now with a real solicitor poring their legal eyes through it makes it all the more real. I will be politely asking y’all to buy my book once it’s out. That shall be soon, so start saving.

Another round of awesome is that I have booked tickets to somewhere in China. I think it’s a part of China. Anyway a couple of posts ago I pondered if it was worth the exorbitant price during peak season to fly to Malaysia a second time in 6 months just to attend a wedding for a day. Since then I decided that you can’t put a price on friendship, but you can pay an extra $300 more and fly to a whole different country while stopping over for a wedding in Malaysia. Hey! Now that’s smart flying, huh?

Also! I am reading Harry Potter again. And what is awesome about that is that by some miraculous turn I have completely forgotten how the whole thing ends, so it is like reading a brand new book all over. And! My apartment is clean, clean, clean.

In the last 12 hours, for the first time in more than 12 months, I drove a car. Not a car that I own, but still, a car, nonetheless. You would think that after 15 years of solid driving experience one wouldn’t feel nervous putting those car keys into that engine of that enormous car. I asked for a hatch, I got a damn sedan. I hate sedans! Anyway, there is a point. After feeling nervous for a whole 5 minutes, I stepped on that accelerator and zoomed myself into York Street right smack into the middle of Friday afternoon peak hour traffic. Then I had the smarts to turn into George Street. At 6pm! But it was fine. I drove myself home, then drove myself all the way to Greenacre, and drove right back into the city. And parked. In the city!

I feel like a whole different person driving a car. Wait, it’s extreme happiness! A big grin on my face! I never realized that it was so vital to the level of independence that I felt. I can do 10 things in a day, and go places I normally can’t be bothered to on public transport. I can go visit my friends whenever I want. I can buy stacks of furniture and load them up. I can go for dinner at obscure places. I can sing along to music and no one will judge me. I wish the companion could see how important driving is, but we can argue for infinity and it would do no good.

Today I’ve got lots planned with my temporary mobility. If only I didn’t have to return the car at 6pm today.

To this day although almost every Chinese person I know has gotten married, I have never attended a real Chinese wedding of any of my friends. Now let me point out that Chinese weddings are so tacky they are fun. It occurs over the entire day, which begins in the morning with the Groom Test. This means that the groom is required to drive to the bride’s house in the morning with a band of chosen male comrades who will all be required to perform a series of challenges in order to receive the bride, who is the ‘prize’. Some examples may include drinking concoctions of vodka mixed with chilli, and reciting embarrassing poems in one’s underpants. Once they complete these tasks, they will be allowed to go into the bride’s house, the groom ‘wins’ her, and together they perform the Tea Ceremony, which literally means serving tea to each others’ in-laws. At night, a big-ass banquet will be held at a restaurant or hotel of choice, in which a hired elderly lady will MC on stage and provide light entertainment to the attendees such as yodel traditional Chinese songs.

Most of the Chinese friends I know who do hold traditional weddings are in Malaysia. Since I have not lived in that country for almost 10 years, on the occasion that I do get invited to these things, the timing has never worked out. Secondly, when the timing was no issue, inevitably it always occurs when airfares are at their most ridiculously expensive. It’s a bit of a Catch-22 really, and most recently, I have been invited to yet another friend’s wedding due to be held in the first week of January. However this is no ordinary friend. It’s a friend I have known for 16 years of my life, and we have been friends throughout every single boyfriend and girlfriend that have come and go. It’s a friend I don’t see often, but everytime we see one another, be it every 3 or 4 years, it’s like we never left.

And now he will tie the knot, and I would love to be there to celebrate with him. It will cost me roughly $1500 to fly back just for a week. Should I or shouldn’t I? I think may already know the answer.