My favourite corner of the room. A beautiful bed. Pretty sheets. Sun-filled. And cherry blossoms from Jon.

Sunday morning

How we spent our Sunday...in pictures:

We went to Parc cafe again. Jon had some orange juice and muesli with yoghurt, milk and honey. I had a skim latte and porridge with pear and brown sugar. Everything was superb. A couple and their two little boys sat next to us. At one point, they looked over and remarked that once upon a time, they too had breakfast peacefully.

After breakfast, we went to Centennial Park. It was car-free day at the park. A bit inconvenient but we had a good walk and there was generally, a better atmosphere without anyone honking.

We took many photos of trees but i especially love this one.

Jon had brought some bread so we fed the ducks and swans. It was my first time and i was SO excited. We fed Fred, Tootsie and Mirabelle...and their friends.

On our way out of the park, we practiced balancing. Jon was a lot better at it than i was. Not surprising since i have fallen on people's laps when i'm standing in a moving bus.

But i did get the hang of it after a while...

After all the fun we had at the park, it was down to business as we headed to the HUGE mall at Bondi Junction to buy some things for my new house. The view from the car as we drove to the mall was beautiful. I love these trees. We passed by another park and it was lovely seeing kids' soccer games going on and families having picnics.

I never get tired of seeing directions to the beach. It reminds me that a very short detour will result in me breathing in the wonderful scent of salt water, seeing surfers doing their thing and generally chilling out, if only for a while. Actually, that's exactly what we did on Saturday- we took a wrong turn and ended up at Bronte beach. Just hours before, it was chaotic. I had a call at 7am from the mattress delivery person saying that he was at my new house and where was i? I had been told to give him a call at 9am to see what time he was arriving. I ran (Jon had my car) all the way from my friends' house where i was currently staying to my new house, 10 minutes away. In my slippers.Thank God it was only 10 minutes away. Grrr. And then, i couldn't get back in to my friends' house as i didn't have the security swipe card with me. What else could i do but head to Cafe Zoe (uncombed hair, unbrushed teeth and all) for some coffee and toast. Then, the real moving occured (to be more precise, Jon and two other guys moved my things while i sat on the couch and read Prep by Curtis Sittenfeld). I wasn't in a good mood and then Jon wasn't in a good mood and it was just terrible.
And that was when the wrong turn occured and we ended up at the beach. We rolled up our pants, walked into the ocean. Was there any other option?

Don't hold back your love

It's as if flowers and tiny, bright green leaves have bloomed and sprouted overnight. This is the last week of winter. I am moving house tomorrow and for the first time in my life, will have a separate study from my bedroom. Next week, i will have 100 essays to mark and a bunch of other administrative things to do. Writing my own thesis will have to fit in somewhere, as will watching TV and reading Prep by Curtis Sittenfeld which i made Jon buy for me.

Last weekend, we went to Centennial Park, sat on a bench and watched the swans, ducks and pelicans tiding their time. We picked out two swans in love and wondered why there was only one pelican in the pond. We also walked past some geese which were sunning themselves on the grass. I was amazed at the sight of ever single bird and at the unfathomable nature of Creation. It was the best park outing ever. Then, we went to Parc Cafe for breakfast. There was a write-up on that cafe the previous weekend in the Herald and i thought i'd see what the fuss was about. The cafe was lovely- peaceful and just the right amount of noise. We sat outside and i had a latte (very good!) and some cherry toast with ricotta and honey. YUM! It was pricey but worth it. We didn't want to leave the place! And the service was excellent. It was pleasant sitting in the sunshine, reading the papers, talking, dog-watching and eating good food. Weekends are the best, especially if there is a special someone who understands why you love to have breakfast out on a Saturday morning and pays for it, even if he's happy with toast at home.

Kiss the world with fingers crossed

It is a beautiful, warmish day in Sydney after last night's freak hailstorm. Since i wasn't caught in it however, i was fascinated with the hail littering the pavement. Little rocks of ice which, when clustered together, resembled snow. I picked some up and put them down Jon's t-shirt.

But this morning, it was beautifully warm and breezy. I don't have to wear a jumper in the house any longer and no more gloves or scarves when i go out. When i find my waxing kit, i will wax my legs and wear a skirt. Meanwhile, as i approach Jon's office on the way home from uni, i text him to see if he'd like to take a "short toilet break", which turned into chocolate milkshake and bran and blueberry muffin at the cafe around the corner- his treat. It made me look forward to summer days in shorts, sitting in a cool cafe and drinking iced anything. Not so long now.

I am so thankful that one difficult season is over.

Saturday morning. Warm sunshine. Cafe Zoe. Skim Mocha. Woodfired wholemeal toast with butter, apricot jam, berry jam and passionfruit and mango jam for me. Earl Gray tea and bacon and egg roll for Jon. Newspapers. Indulgence.

Friday night. Burgers and chips at Coogee beach. Cold winter winds. Beanies, scarves, turtlenecks and a blanket. Moon rise.

Roll on

Today i had my hair cut. I've been putting it off for weeks but it began to feel like a burden and i almost had myself convinced that if only i got my hair cut, my life would start falling into place. It got to the point where everytime i looked at myself in the mirror, i'd just feel sad that my ends were split and fried; that i had thought getting my hair chemically straightened would make me attrative to boys; that i had put so much value on my hair.

So today, i cancelled a coffee date with a friend and went to the city. I had never been to that particular hairdresser before but remembered that they had done a fairly good job on Rachael's hair and decided to try my luck. I made an appointement for 2:30 and walked to Borders to read some magazines. As i picked up Glamour (hands down my absolute favourite beauty and fashion magazine), i felt my heart start to race and my palms becoming sweaty. I felt like i was going in for an exam i hadn't studied for (or which i had studied for- no difference). I was just plain afraid.

Fifteen minutes later, i emerged from Olga's hands feeling pretty darn fine. I was certain that she had cut very little off (i have a lot of thick hair just below my waist and it usually takes hours to get it nicely cut and layered) but one look in the mirror told me that she had indeed done what i had told her and had given me below-the-shoulders hair. Good hairdressers are akin to dear friends- they should be cherished. Comments about the "honey" in my "beautiful eyes" were also appreciated. Who knew?

Of course, i took the opportunity to flip my hair around (it smelled divine too) and snuck glances at myself on every mirror i passed. Even my shadow made me happy.

A whole entry on hair. Got to love being a girl.

Now, i am SO ready for the rest of my life to fall into place...

Have we lost ourselves?

The late winter flowers are a-blooming. Spring is three short weeks away. It's funny. One day, there are merely empty branches. And the next day, beautiful lavender buds are everywhere. I never even saw them coming.

On my way home this morning, i saw the man in the tunnel. It was my chance to make things right again. I stopped and dropped some coins in his hat and he looked up into my eyes, this small old man. His gentle blue-green eyes looked into mine and he said "thank-you". I smiled and walked away.

How long have i been walking away from sadness and from what i know i have to do?

The finger of blame has turned upon itself

It has been one of those days, a day steeped in silence. I look out of the window and realise that the workmen, who i ponder over everyday as my desk faces the window, have left for the day. The construction site is empty. The noise from the heater, my typing and the engines of random cars below are the only sounds that surround me. I look at the apartment block in the next suburb and notice the lights on in certain homes. It's past five thirty in the evening. I have finished one reading and have another to complete tonight. Then, a lesson to plan for my tutorials on Wednesday. An effort to make sociology mildly interesting to first year students who just wish to pass so they can move on to the next phase of life. But that is a blanket statement. There are some who are there for the pure thrill of knowing more and understanding that the world is not as it seems. There is hair everywhere. On the floor, on my bed, in the fridge. Everywhere i turn, i come across yet another strand of hair. The mess on my head makes me feel out of control. I feel that maybe if i get my hair cut, a semblance of order will start to permeate my life. How many more days of living out of a suitcase, i wonder to myself. How many afternoons of cooking in a kitchen filled with unfamilar utensils? How many more nights of sleeping in a bed that is not mine? It doesn't seem fair. But then again, what is fair? I feel guilty for complaining when there is a roof over my head and stacks of food on the table. It's not convenient, i say. But maybe it's time to throw convenience out of the window. My life has never been convenient. And i'm still standing. Another hundred things on this week's to-do list. What should i start with- Finish a chapter of my thesis? Start on my conference paper? Figure out what i'm going to submit for peer critique next month? Apply for funding? Fill in the sheet with hours worked in the last fortnight? Prepare a lesson? Look for a house on real estate sites? Walk to church to collect a CD? Head to the bank to pay for my flight tickets back to Singapore for Christmas? Worry about visa extensions and all that jazz? Make another cup of tea? There is no routine. No order. Only days spent walking and doing. How did this happen? Was it a bad decision i made months ago? Was it the disabled man i ignored as i walked my merry way along the tunnel? Was it thinking that God had forgotten me? I don't know. All i do know is that it's time for all of this to end; for some peace to be restored in this dwelling my soul resides in. It's time to stare at my reflection, fess up to mistakes, forgive myself and walk on knowing that nothing is certain apart from God.