sorry its not my usual rant and rave… and nowhere near up to laurie mayhem calibre but stolen directly from those poor suckers who are subjected to my email rants….

2009… the year that was….

hello world!!!!
 
i trust this finds you all well, and inevitably gut full after christmas dinners around the world in your own special ways…
 
as for me… it is that time again… the birthday, christmas, new year triple whammy and those weeks of inner reflection…(and rambling about my musings on whatever inappropriate public forum i stumble across first) quiet contemplation on the year that was and the exciting possibilities of the days yet to unfurl…
 
my apologies first… for those of you in my email world… for what must have been a (relieving??) 12 months without a laurie ramble… but as technology seems to be taking over the rest of the world… so too my avenue of ranting… and this year has been the year of the blog…and more notably, facebook… (www.metalundies.wordpress.com)
 
and what a year it’s been. a true adrenalin junkie rollercoaster..the type even evil kneivil would have to buckle in for!!
some parts such dizzying highs i just about thought i might explode and float away like a helium balloon… and some parts those dark moments that one hopes to forget as the days slowly get you past them…
 
but mostly, its been a year of change… not to me… goodness no… i’m still as i was 15 years ago… but to the world around me…. and the people who hold such enormity in my life…
 
so we start the year at about minus 40 degrees…
freezing…
in canada…and full of every possibility that comes with travel…
a white christmas, (although strangely my first encountering of temperatures actually too cold for snow??!!) but with that craziness…the world of winter… a foreign world to me… the learning to ski (or fall gracefully down a mountain side waving two poles about chaotically) sliding on frozen roads (and the inevitable array of butt bruises that comes with this) the joy of snow suits… in particular the joy of dressing 14 three year olds in them… to go outside, get rosy cheeks, snotty noses and then have to deal with those inevitable little “accidents”
and best of all… with winter… the sheer delight of dog sledding… an experience i recommend to ALL!
of course..with winter came some of the biggest news… the discovery and meeting of my now sister in law who i whole heartedly welcome to the family!!!
 
but snow cant fall forever… and as the icicles slowly dripped and the deer returned to the back yard, the squirrels came back and left foot prints of fossicking came spring…
a truly amazing time of the year… flowers really do quite literally burst to life out of a frozen wasteland almost from nothing… the leaves on the trees really are the purest shade of green… and yes truly… the birds start to sing once again…
 
and with all this growth and life pouring in from all angles… it seems only fitting to reflect on the growth and life of those around me…and the NINE babies born this year!!! including my own absolutely adorable little niece!
 
of course, so to with the change in season, comes the greater changes… the time to move… the ending of another chapter… the decision making cogs whirring back into life and the movement back towards home…
 
goodbye to a beautiful landscape that looking back now i feel i could have delved into so much deeper and hello to adventure in the central americas… wrestling with humidity, sunburn and melted shoes as i traversed live volcanoes…and nearly died in the process… note to self… new years resolution to be fitter…
 
but all adventure comes to an end… and CRASH… home again… following the dreams of another and perhaps blindly ignoring the dreams of myself…
the usual struggle.
the usual melodrama
back to the usual work…
but not usual.
the world is a different place now… babies, mortgages, careers…
somehow i have been in neverland long enough to miss this step and now find myself in the surreal land between dream and uncertainty…
 
of course… like all crash landings… there were casualties.. and this time sadly it was my heart that took the fall… but life goes on…
 
and thus here we are..
in the back half of the year.
lost like one of those spring time deer in the yard but in the world that seems familiar yet strange trying to look to the next season.. make plans for the future while the sun is still shining…
 
tomorrow truly is a new day..
there will be light to help me see how to pick up the pieces, there will be warmth from the sun to thaw out the frozen grasp of the darker sides of the year before and there is new adventures to have
 
of course..with all laurie yearly reviews..
there are questions.
there is indecision and there is endless possibility
 
so does tomorrow bring the dive into the deep end and the reconnection of life in this strange foreign home town…
does it bring with it the quest to find the promised euphoria of my safety escape town in the great north or does it see this wayward gypsy pack up and run once more… taking advantage of this strange freedom i know find myself in and chasing the sun and the never ending thirst for excitement back on far foreign fields…
 
i guess all we can do is watch this space??
 
but for now… i hold strong in surviving another ride. i hold happiness in the hope that each new day brings and i hold sheer joy at all the new lives that entered my life and my world this year.
 
wherever this may find you..
may the next year bring you possibilities you wouldnt even dream of and wherever those new paths take you, may they lead to the ultimate goal of happiness…
 
will try to get up to some more shennanigans and get this whole blogging thing back in business… but until then..
hugs to the world… hope to see you soon… in whichever corner of this great earth you hide..
and MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!
 
hugs
laurie

every so often a decision comes our way that just seems to fly in the face of sanity. and while even i am the first to admit that decisions never were nor likely never will be my storng point, even i can recognise the sheer agony of those decisions that force you to acceot that pain, hurt, heartache are in fact a necessary part of moving forward in life.

it seems unjust that sometimes, we know that to listen to our heads and make the “right” choice for the illusive end goal of a utopian tomorrow we have to slay our own heart and ride the whirlpool of drowning today.

surely when the world was first fresh and new we werent forced to create such agony in some stupid quest to make the world a better place.

where did it go wrong?

when did parents have to choose to terminate a long awanted baby because modern technology allowed them to see the window of a shattered tomorrow, when did reality determine that hearts must be broken today in order to be fulfilled tomorrow. or lovers part because governments control the free flow of day to day living. families split because a doctors decision determines a life time of labels and excuses.

when did this world turn so black that hugs are given more freely in keystrokes than with open arms…and emotion exchanged through emoticons more than the simple gesture of holding out a hand to another,

in a world of go faster and achieve more… have we gone so far that we have made it impossible to truly achieve at all.

are the girfts of this world a long forgotten fantasy laughed at only in fairytales of times gone by.

in a world of support groups and evengalism.. is there truly anyone who is not broken?? in their own way noone is whole. noone is an independent being free from the societal desires of acceptance and success. do these labels we seek to calm our mind and find excuses for our failings in turn warp us to lose sight of the simplicity of what is real and merely offer us a new goal to be the worst at this new demon?

what have our children got for tomorrow in a today that breeds such contempt and hatred that people simply no longer trust.

what hope for a future when love is a long forgotten fallacy.

open your arms to the world and give someone a true hug.

maybe its not too late?

maybe if we all just accept that perfection is the lie we can all move back to that happier place, that happier time when the world was merely measured in those moments of happiness that take your breath away…

not those moments of  “success” money and the foundations of anxiety. not a time when to belong you have to be broken. and to feel you have to be told by your support group how to do it and what you feel.

hugs to the world.

always.

it occured to me today…

as i looked at the sea of smiling faces glaring up at me in class…whatever will happen to the game of “stacks-on”?

i mean… it is an institution in the australian household right?? i hold memories of being pummelled during ill fated stacks on sessions under the tilting hills hoist in the bindi infested backyard.

i hold memories of loose teeth being knocked clear out by poorly positioned knees during the heady pile ups of sleepover stacks on…

and most clearly i hold dear the memory of inappropriate eye gouging when stacks on provided a “healthy” avenue for anger and tension release…

i cant imagine my childhood without stacks on… and yet… as the innocent faces of the future stared back at me… it occured to me today that not only do we spend our days just struggling to teach the simple ABC’s… but some of Australia’s best life lessons are clearly being lost in translation…

i mean… how would i know how to endure the stray football to the guts in the playground without years of inadvertant muscle building due to body piles perched precariously across my tummy? those childhood games serve not only as a much needed anger management bi-product but as a staple for our future success in the knock backs of adulthood…

and yet.. here in my classroom… those doe-eyed wonders are clearly oblivious to the lessons in life that they are missing…

and why is it… that after years of adult behaviour, my childhood staples have come back to confront me and cause this musing…

but on a recent epic adventure through the great australian outback… when the cry was called “stacks on” and the victim FOOLISHLY continued to lie helpless in his swag only 4 people answered the cry. Like an army going into battle with no soldiers, even in the adult world where stacks on has been a part of our lives for as long as memory exists the infiltration of the foreign tourists has diluted the fountain of stacks on knowledge…

and while old dogs and new tricks mean that the true beauty of the game remained a mysterious illusion to my foreign travelling counterparts, who could not see that the black eye recieved by the stack victim was simply a comical part of the game due to a poorly positioned but effective looking superman leap inadvertantly mixed with the worlds biggest necklace of mass destruction… i wondered if perhaps the plague of stacks on amnesia had spread farther afield. while these new school foreign invaders could perhaps be forgiven for not being inititiated yet into the wonders of aussie childhood backyard games… surely the australian youth are still upholding our culture…

and thus it was… sitting in my classroom today, their trusting smiles fixed on their faces as they gazed intently upon me, their oracle of knowledge, i chose to ask the question…

who here would know what i was talking about if i said “stacks on”

and while 27 heads nodded, i could tell by their puzzled looks and glazed over stares that they clearly did not… and it took the class bully (lets face it we all have one) to demonstrate fully the superman launch (thankfully to no connecting effect) before the penny dropped…

for years, this wonder of merriment has eluded them… but today i shone the light..

today i did my part for the future of australia and ensured stacks on will remain a firm fixture in the aussie loungeroom for at least a few more years to come…

yup, my work here is done….

may you end up at the top of the stack, wherever in the world this find you…

so here i am…

its been well over a month now since the initial crash landing that comes after extensive travel…

friends are visited…or at least will be shortly…

house sorted and am back at work…

so why do i still feel lost??

while do i still feel like i am being sucked under the gurgling whirlpool of life with no idea which end is up or which way to swim??

like all mature and responsible adults my age..

i opted for the safe option and moved into a house with a random iranian man… heck…we all have to do it at least once..

and despite the promise of adventrue that such a decision seemed to offer…thus far it has been blissfully.. dull… normal even…

then there’s work…

while i continue to wait for the government system to call me (as they’re “screaming out for teachers”) i was lucky enough to be offered a contract with my old school as a day to day casual…but guaranteed work till the end of this term…cant knock that really can you??

so..

as i rise early from bed… head down the rat hole with all the other of lemmings and face the enslaught of each new working day i am faced with both familiarity and yet instability in that i dont have my own class…

indeed, being out in the druitt.. there is always a tale…. but none so much as to inspire my blog…

yup..

i eat, sleep, work…

i truly am head first back in the daily grind.

and yes.

i am already over it.

already drowning in my sea of self pity as i search desperately for that ’something more” that buzz that comes when one’s spirit is freed.

as yet it alludes me…

but i am sure in time..

as i swallow the bitter pill that this is indeed reality.

that this is indeed what life has to offer in the “real world”…

then i am sure the spark will return..

the lust for life and the passion within will grow again…

but until then i entertain my days by watching the lives of those fellow suckers on sydneys public transport network with me…

stay tune for tales from the train….

i hope whatever routine your life has taken and however dim that spark of excitement may be that it still continues to burn and that hope still drives each day.

always.

l

amidst the crash landing of returning home…which every traveller experiences…

my bumps are now mountains, peaked by the children of my friends…

a world away from the social life i left before…it seems that my society has grown up all around me and entered into this sacred little fantasy that continues to evade me…

and with each cherub face i behold that captures the very joy and essence of my friends new lives my curiosity soars and my hormones blast out of control…

one day it will be your turn…they all coo between festering nappies and vomit stained wash baskets… but one has to wonder…will it?

such miracles, such terror and such bewilderment seems only reserved to those in the know..

those who have found the happy place and have found the stability to uproot life as they know it…

and am i capable of such a tremendous plunge into the deep end of that very dark and very real pool??

i fear perhaps not…

you will just know when it is time to jump they say.

“just know”

how?? how can i ever just know anything!!?? i am quite possibly the worlds MOST indecisive person and have just known nothing throughout my whole existence… from even what time to wake up and what to have for breakfast to the conundrum of today as to where to live, work and play!

so will this strange new world that my friends all seem to preach ever weave its way into the life and times of this eternal wanderer???

will i ever “just know” with whom and when is the right time to jump?

i fear the answer is no…

not that it cant happen…but no to just knowing..

for me… i think perhaps it may be more of a stumble into the dark and unchartered territories of “this normal life”…

and a simple matter of wait and see what tomorrow holds…

Well…as fate would happen.  Again that sense of self, that sense of home evades me as i step out into the bitter breezes of a crisp Sydney summer’s day…

And as i leave the barking, gnarling monster of city traffic and escape to my bush oasis in Darwin, i instantly feel the peace flood over me.

Washing me clean and making me whole again.

If this is my home. My solace, it seems only natural i should move there, but life does not always make those paths easy… sometimes the lights are broken and sometimes the path just goes somewhere else…

And thus… despite my confusion and my torment and finding home in the most unlikely of places… i merely visit my sanctuary for that chance to glimpse at myself and breathe in the peace i so desperately seek…

Of course… no trip to Darwin, despite its serenity and beauty, is complete without the little quirks that make it just so…

First there was the camping trip…

Despolate, isolated, rugged wilderness… perfect.

Until at 2 in the morning in the blackest of nights as the stars pierce the inky sky brighter than the biggest floodlight one decided a wee bushwalk was advised…

A wee bushwalk through wild pig infested terrain with the worlds most geographically challenge property owner and a mere blunt stick to protect us…

Needless to say…after several stressed minutes thrashing through jagged and overgrown brush…we did emerge (about a kilometre away from where we thought we were) and stumbled our way back to the roaring camp fire and new friends… including cam’s tummy beast  (the biggest outie the world has ever seen!)

Meanwhile…back in “the big smoke”

Darwin revealed its treasures through a magical mystery tour… and some nude soldiers… who insisted on getting their kit off by means of inviting us to join their table at the pub…

If only they’d still been with us when we stumbled onto the back, and unmanned, entrance into the annual Darwin cup race day gala ball…

Despite it being Darwin…even i dared not enter for too long… dressed in my best things and tattered jeans

In all a calm and quiet typical Darwin trip…and one i know will just fuel my urge to return…

may home be where your heart is at, right now.

always

laurie

watching the world go by out the bus window…

the sun filtering like fingers piercing their way through the clouds…

the rain as it lands soft on the fields or pelts and explodes like a bomb on the roadsides…

the golds, the reds, the peaches of a blazing sunset as the day dips behind the horizon and the promise of tomorrow burns bright for those lingering few moments…

the colours of the world as they blur past me…

the greens of overgrown grass, jungle, fields or flowing rivers; swelling, flowing or dry from drought…

parched, scorched, barren earth…

the houses and daily lives of the people as they whizz by in a flash. a snaphot.

a mere glimpse into whatever those daily lives are…

from simply just surviving to the next day, dreaming of a brighter future for themselves, their children, their country, or perhaps that face in the crowd was screwed in thought, a cure for cancer? the future of tomorrow?

enjoying the sunshine of today and taking thanks for merely being alive in the world?

the tin shacks, the high rises, the casbahs, the castles…

everyones life rolls past me through the bus window and i merely zip by…

priveledged to see just a snapshot into someone else’s world.

someone else’s story.

do they look back?

do they see me?

do they wonder my story?

what chapter are they on?

where have they been?

what drives them now?

the world blurs past me at the windows edge in all its beauty, pain, severity, serenity…

why am i so lucky?

why am i the one on this bus?

why am i blessed to have this tele-portal into the lives of so many?

and when does the journey stop and the trip home begin?

maybe all these years have been the trip home?

the endless search for meaning in existence.

the yearning search for those blessed but fleeting moments of happiness. pure and real euphoric happiness. a happiness so real those seconds flicker in the memories of a lifetime…

perhaps the truth is that even as those countless faces stare back at my bus we’re all on our journey home.

a journey to find ourselves and to detour through another’s life, no matter how brief that road may be, is merely a necessary road to help us reach our own true and final destination… ourselves.

and with our final home in self, the confidence to live at that address. to be true. to be me. to be happy, proud and accept ourselves for who we are…

no matter where we are.

home: where is it?

home is somewhere between each sun that rises and each that sets. home is within me.

home is wherever i am when i have truly accepted myself as a whole.. only then am i home and i bring it with me.

home is a smell. a sound. a memory.

a second in time that transports you, no matter where you are, to that happy place. that place of peace within.

home truly is where all that you love are held safe and you are at peace.

home is in fact.

“where the heart is”

It’s funny how we get attached to silly things… like mobile phone numbers for example…

But after a few years with my same number, proud that I actually knew it without having to ring myself or write it down, you can imagine just how delighted I was to discover that I could in fact travel overseas and continue to use my beloved prepaid service (yes, i know… pre paid is for kids!!! but seeing as i rarely stay anywhere long enough to see out the 12 month contract – or god forbid 24 month contract! pre paid has always been ideal…)

none the less… at first all was sweet.

country to country… recharging online but in touch with the world.

 my friends at my fingertips….

but then alas, things started to go wrong …

firstly…

Canada.. big enough country…part of the western world even… you would assume it would have mobile service… (I mean, heck, I had signal in India, the Middle East and Eastern Europe!!!)  but alas, no.. ’twas not to be… thus here I was.. starting a new life, new house, new job and all entirely without a phone…

but the real clincher…

the bitter irony that Optus’ very own bonus call credits screwed me over…

yes…with each $30 recharge I was sooo lucky to be getting $120 worth of credit… only using the phone internationally I wasnt actually able to use most of that credit… thus… through the kindness of their bonus credits.. I started to wrack up a rather impressive bonus credit account… once it hit $500 of unused credits I encountered my first hitch… inability to recharge.

yes, thats right…

I had TOO MUCH CREDIT and was not actually allowed to recharge my own phone!!! and the stupid thing is… i couldnt actually use any of that credit anyhow!!!!

so a few phone calls later… credit limit increased… temporarily patched… until… $1000

yes. I had ONE THOUSAND DOLLARS of unused call credits just sitting on my now debunked and useless phone…

so on top of the fact that recharging was a fruitless exercise anyways… optus, the darlings, wouldnt even allow me the privelege…

and thus, tentatively, I let it go… really I had no choice… and my phone service slowly died….

this of course was all forgotten while I lived my day to day life in Canada… knowing that when I returned to the sunny shores of home once more I would simply call optus and retrieve my poor dead and buried number…

a process one might be forgiven in thinking is simple…

and thus.. jet lagged and travel weary… first stop en route home was to the trusty optus shop to ask the question…

“you’ll need a new sim card”…

no worries says tired laurie…as she gets new card and returns home to place the call…

CALL ONE:

Gretchen (well, something to that effect her accent was entirely incohesive)

“your number has expired because you didnt recharge”

“yes, that is because I was overseas for 18 months and there was no optus”

“ok i’ll see if i can get approval to retrieve your number… on hold… speaks to manager… yes we can do that because I can see you are a good customer, been with us forever, regularly recharges, blah blah blah…. you need a new sim.”

“already got it”

“cool. put it in, turn phone on in 20 mins all should be perfect”

(wow…that was too easy i think… and yes… if it seems too easy.. you know it will be…)

20 mins pass… phone turns on has optus screen… yay I can contact my friends!!!  Now to put on some credit… online… “put in a valid phone number”… hhmmm…. better call to fix that….

CALL TWO

girl whose name I couldnt even guess at because she sure as hell wasnt speaking English….

“no it is not possible for you to have your number” 

but why?

“I can not tell you”

“can I speak to someone who can tell me please? seeing as I was just told I could have it?”

“a manager will call you within 2 hours I promise”

(3 days later I am still waiting for said manager to call)

CALL THREE:

Miles.

yeah, I can do that, I just need to get approval to get your number out of quarantine”

“no probs, Gretchen already got approval but go ahead”

“yup, I can do that because you are a long term customer and blah blah blah just bear with me…”

(more hold time…)

“um…. I cant find your number”

“what do you mean??”

“it isnt coming up”

“well who can find it?”

“tech support” “i’ll patch you through to them now”

CALL FOUR:

Vanessa.

“this is a customer service enquiry”

“they patched me through to you”

“oh ok.. let me see if I can figure out why they cant find it”

(several conferences with supervisors later and plenty of hold time)

“I need to refer this to my supervisor because I have never seen anything like it before”

CALL FIVE:

Rose

“ok, I understand this is frustrating let me see what I can do”

(more hold time later)

“I have approval to get number for you the problem is with your new sim card it is part of a bulk activation pack. you need another sim card. go get one and I will call you back”

FIFTY KILOMETRE ROUND TRIP BACK TO OPTUS SHOP TO GET SIM

CALL SIX:

Angelo:

“Rose went home and asked me to call” (at least they are calling me back now!!)

“we need to activate the new sim and then tomorrow Rose can transport your old number over and replace the new one the activation will give you”

“I’ll patch you over to customer support to activate”

“ok – but explain to them what is happening so they do they right thing and you get the right details”

CALL SEVEN:

“hi this is Miles (or Reece?? dont know he spoke quickly) how can I help you”

“what do you mean how can you help me?? didnt Angelo explain?”

“no, but what can I do for you?”

(laurie details the last 2 days worth of phone calls)

“ok, so lets activate this sim. what phone number do you want?”

“well derr…thats the problem!!! I want my old number back  which I have been tol I can have and yet  noone seems to be able to find it!!”

“ok lets see what I can do…”

(more hold music)

“this is going to take longer than usual, I will call you back”

(I am still waiting for this return phone call also)

CALL EIGHT:

Angelo calls back (kudos to him.. he does at least call)

“how did you go, do you have the new number?”

“no, they didnt know what you wanted them to do and are supposed to call me back”

“but I explained it to them. hang on, i’ll patch you through to customer service again and explain it again”

CALL NINE:

“hi this is Bivek from cutomer service, how can I help you?”

“are you kidding?? didnt Angelo explain??!!!”

(whole saga repeated to Bivek)

“hmmm, we cant do that only tech support can do it”

“I know, but tech support has asked me to activate a new card and get a random new number which tomorrow they said they will change to my old number”

“ok, let me just see here, I need to talk to my supervisor”

(more hold time)

“I need to refer this to I.T:  please hold”

(more hold time)

“I think if I activate this and get a new number it will ruin the chances of getting your old number. my supervisor will be contacting the i.t supervisor his name is Raoul, he will call you back”

CALL TEN:

Angelo calls back (again, I give him due credit)

“do you have your new number?”

“no. they say  it will jeopardise me getting my number, something to do with I.T”

“no, Rose says you need the new number so we can get your old number”

meanwhile the phone rings

CALL ELEVEN:

“this is Rodney from optus” (I assume that is Raoul – again the accents were an issue)

“ I have spoken to I.T and your number has gone into quarantine and cant be retrieved.”

“but I have Angelo on the phone who says Rose from tech support says it can”

several bizzarre technical messages relayed by me to each optus representative follows…

“cant you guys communicate with each other?”

“no, we are in different departments”

end result, Rodney says it is not possible, but Angelo says he can do it and proceeds to activate the new sim and issue me with a new number.

“Rose will call you tomorrow”

CALL TWELVE:

(Rose hasnt called)

Ray (in Melbourne – thank god! one that speaks English!)

whole saga recounted again

“Rose is in our Manilla branch and I am unable to patch you through to her but I can write her an email and in the meantime will see what I can do”

(more hold time follows as he calls I.T, tech support, customer service and his supervisor)

“I’m sorry but it cant be done. your number went into quarantine and has passed the point where we can retrieve it to give it back to you and is not yet accessible on our networks to be able to pull it back up for any other customer”

“so I can’t have my number, but noone else can have it either?”

“pretty much.”

“but Rose says she has a way!”

“I will send her an email to call you right now”

CALL THIRTEEN:

“hi Laurie this is Rose”

“unfortunately because of (reels off bunch of technical crap) we aren’t able to retrieve your number. (note here a complete contradiction from yesterday when I advised her that I would rather not be with Optus than have a new number, that I was only staying for that number and she ASSURED me she could get my number for me!!)

“it isnt any one persons decision it is the way the system works and noone has the authority to override the system as it belongs to billing. even the supervisor three levels above me cant do it”

(after much more techno talk it emerges things MAY be different if it was a contract not a prepaid)

“what if I put it on a plan? can we lift it from the prepaid system where it appears to be stuck to move it to postpaid?”

“I’ll call you back”

CALL FOURTEEN:

“sorry, the number is allocated as a prepaid number and cant be changed. noone has it, but you cant have it and even though I have approval from about 5 different managers there is noone in optus that seemingly has the capability to override some computer billing system that has put the number into quarantine”

“oh, but if it makes you feel any better, had you tried to do this 15 days ago it would have been fine. it is just that it has moved into the next month.”

so now folks…

14 phone calls, 2 round trips to get 2 new sim cards later and a heck of a lot of time on hold and I have basically been screwed over.

no I dont have my number despite being told from the outset I could and the whole bloody reason the thing got canned was because of the stupid un-overwriteable systems in the first place.

needless to say you can see I am thrilled with the orgainisation and customer service offered by my long term telephone network provider and am now actively in the market for a new one….

sure is good to be home huh?

always and ever, laurie the uncontactable.

well,

despite my protests regarding my growing awareness of my non-city nature…and my not so favourable previous american experiences… even i would have to admit that i quite liked new york.

perhaps my friends are right… it is a deep seeded innate love we all have due to our early addiction to sesame street….

maybe it is that sense of familiarity as you walk down streets past buildings you have eerily seen a hundred times before?

maybe the east coasters really are just generally more friendly or open minded then there west coast counterparts (SORRY TO MY WEST COAST YANKEE FRIENDS WHO ARE OF COURSE EXCEPTIONS TO THIS!!)

or maybe it really really is just a funky city…

whatever it may be… you know of course, there is no laurie without melodrama….

and despite my surprise discovery that new york was in fact both pallatable, even pleasant (despite an ongoing debate care of facebook regarding its dubious pungency in particular near those steaming man holes…) new york was not of course without drama…

firstly…there’s the walking…

OH MY GOD!

you would think after a month of hiking up mud encrusted vertical live volcanoes in central america that i would be well up to the task of a city stroll… but holy crap!!! new york goes on FOREVER!!!!!!!! and what may be only a short intended walk rapidly becomes an all day all night marathon…and still only skims the surface of  just one small area….

but where new york really comes undone??

on a backpacker budget..

i blame the food..

well, frankly only because i dont know what else to blame…

therefore… i vote it was the bagel…

whatever it was..

as day 2 arose…

that tiny niggly back pain that bothered me day 1 had blown out into an all encompassing, excruciating back agony that was truly nauseating.

of course… michael refused to acknowledge such woes (admittedly i was playing them down a little…) and thus we set off again…

step after weary step…each sending a greater jolt from spine to neck then the last i bit my tongue and pressed forwards… slowly becoming aware of a nasty stomache related side effect to this nausea…

and becoming ever more painfully aware that there is an eerie lack of public amenities ANYWHERE in new york city…

and thus mid way through day 2…

when my tummy could handle it no more and i succumbed to the dankest of public washrooms for refuge… it became apparent i had somehow consumed kermit the frog.

franky i have no other explanation for it.

the greenest poop i have ever seen.

diabolical.

still we pressed on…

and as kermit continued to fight for his escape (roughly on a 2 hourly basis by evening number 2) michael at least conceeded to cut down a further 5km to our walk by catching the subway…

hence forth… a little relaxed… but now grappling with hourly kermit eruptions… and still overcome by wincing back pain, we commenced our ascent up the rockerfeller tower…

a stunning view indeed….

and a great way to truly appreciate how dense and vast the city is…

of course…also a time to appreciate how far 67 floors is up when the toilet is back on level one…

so as i clutched my amphibious belly and sat to rest my still excruciating lower back (good god i hope it is not kidneys) i held my tongue and watched for the spectacular sunset (which of course fizzled into a cloudy grey dullness as is always the way where murphy’s law is involved) that is when the hot sweats, followed by cold shivers commenced…

michael.. i’m really not well… can we go soon??

5 more minutes…

i just want to stay till the sun sets…

longest freaking sunset in history!!!!!!

45 mins later…

michael… can we go soon??

(note…by this stage i am hunched over in agony…whilst precariously not hunching so far as to allow any unsuspecting escape attempts by the still ever present presence of kermit) shivering so uncontollably that all my fellow sitters have slowly starting edging away….

5 more minutes… i just want to take a ‘few more photos’

25 more minutes…

i now feel as if someone has actually inserted rusty barbed wire inside my stomache and is deftly tieing it around my inner organs one at a time and is gently squeezing…all the while… still painfully aware that kermit is VERY anxious to make another long overdue debut…

michael…really…can we go now??

“no, the sky might be getting darker”

um.. no.. it is night time..

“i am taking photos – when will i ever be here again?”

um.. you already took that shot.

“no, it is different.. see the sky changed”

by now i am so pale EVERY freckle on my face is standing out and all of the people who had been previously sitting near me have now moved to the other side of the building…

really michael… i need to go… NOW!

5 more minutes….

so, one and a half hours after our initial embarkment ( – in michael time… 2 hours if you ask me!!) we are finally down the bottom of the tower… 117 photos the better for it and in a very desperate search for the toilet…which is of course locked….

hobbling on my last strength just to walk the final weary yards home…where i of course bid kermit another fond hello and crashed into bed in uncontrollable shivers with a fever of about 1008!!!!

i didnt know you felt sick says michael…

uuuugh i say…

as i rush once more to the toilet…

a dodgy night follows…

followed by a slow and sluggish day with more guest appearances by my favourite frog at regular, uninvited inopporune intervals (thank you sooo much to emily for putting up with us!! the frog and i that is, michael was exceptionally well behaved on day 3!!)

followed by an amazing night on broadway seeing phantom (with very happily timed intermission)

further unneccessary photo stops en route home by my resident photographer and another sleepless, bathroom punctuated evening…

of course…

all of this excitement would not be complete without the michael space time continuum making its final appearance en route to the airport the next morning..

when despite his alarm being set with over half an hours notice…and my very insistent (ok, nagging) pleas for him to awake…

later developing into downright sitting on him urging him to get up…

he of course arose a mere FIFTEEN MINUTES AFTER our agreed departure time…

and then proceeds to conclude the same conclusion i had already proposed a mere half hour ago that in fact we did just need to lug all our gear to the street and flag a cab… (as calling them is apparently none the done thing in new york)

(but boys will be boys and thus it emerges…that no matter what the woman suggests or on what ground she declares it… it is not true until the man himself researches and re-declares it…and then somehow expects due credit for his sheer brilliant discovery!! ugh men!)

none the less…

airport reached.

flight caught

kermit also chose to accompany

although thankfully..back pain is reducing…

cleveland transit relatively uneventful

l.a flight actually managed sleep and consumed SOME solid food.

kermit came back

bye bye solids

arrived l.a

now,

during laurie tantrum previous night / morning

i had managed a quick internet scan in search of suitable abodes..

due to sleepiness of cohabitating partner… none were booked but were duefully noted…

l.a has therefore so far consisted of…

being herded like cattle through lack lustre disorganised airport

several more muppet show comebacks

searching for internet

and allowing my resident techno nerd the chance to review my previous nights suggestions..

but oh no..

it doesnt stop there.

why stop there when there is a whole world to explore??!!!!

thus…after reviewing i think possibly EVERY hotel in the californian state (within our budget..)

a decision was reached (that we would go to the hotel i had originally earmarked last night) and some FOUR HOURS!!! (ok… michael would say 3 and a half) after we actually landed we finally booked and commenced our journey into the slums (oops i mean city) of downtown l.a…

and here we are

the final fronteir.

safe and sound in a hotel room currently being invaded by an ant colony who have taken great interest in my legs.. (perhaps i need to shave?) mapping out our final few days of adventure….

and after all this mayhem and sheer frustration of travelling with one who operates in a different time zone to me…am i mad, furious???

nah.. he’s just too cute…as he’s passed out on the bed beside me happily snoring away…

who knows what tomorrow may bring…

all i know is there is no point wasting my time researching it! ;)

to the final countdown…

look out world!!! we’re coming hoooome!!!!

hugs to all.

from laurie..

and kermit.

oooh…

and by the way…

those bloody pan pipe people found me..

just when i thought i had tricked them and escaped their evil hyponotic melodies..

there they were….

in new york!!!

further cementing my theory they are in fact responsible for all the evil in the world!!

they’re after me i tell you…

after me….

the evil pan pipe people

the evil pan pipe people

As if my latest rant on the perils and stupidity of undertaking strenuous hikes for no apparent reason wasn’t enough fodder for my poor little brain to realise that said activity should henceforth be banished…it appears the central American heat has finally warped my mind enough that I decided to do it all over again…

And thus, in the quaint little mountain town of Boquete (panama) when some testosteroned up American said… do the quetzal trail… you don’t need a guide, it’s easy… only 4 hours, you might see quetzals (Guatemala’s national bird which as yet has remained elusive) it’s all signposted, you’ll end up in this gorgeous little village at the end…. I donned on my hiking gear once more and eagerly set to work at the task…

A taxi ride down washed away roads winding through the lush green jungle covered mountain sides, watching the white wash as the waves of the rivers pound worn and weary rocks, and assured by the presence of a “park ranger” and a somewhat sketchy free-hand drawn map at the start of the trail…

We commenced, amidst the heat and the humidity… a gentle incline, up, through the fields of farmers lazy cattle, over the simplicity of wooden bridges until… the real track began…

Now no longer within earshot of the “real” world… the quetzal trail is not a clearly marked meander through rolling hillsides, but is in fact a torturous, vine ridden, bug infested trail through thick uncompromising jungle that while at first gives the false illusion of a gentle stroll rapidly becomes a sheer cliff face scramble…

As   what once may have been ample stairways slowly turned into impossible vertical ladders, mounted precariously on washed away cliffs, and what may well have been a signposted trail in 1976 became an instinctual fight for survival we braved certain peril and pressed forwards, aware that mosquitoes that persistently hounded our sweaty worn bodies were merely waiting for their chance to infect, while the only bird life we saw was the presence of the ever ready vultures just awaiting our demise and their next meal…

Step after weary step we trudged on, and as miracles would have it… some 1000 m elevation gain later we broke through the jungle canopy and emerged at the other end… only to find an abandoned ranger station, no signage, no vehicular access points and gangrene the cat, who with his wicked green and puss infected eye socket was only marginally less terrifying than his malicious and evil twin brother, “fluffy”,  whom I firmly believe may have in fact eaten gangrene’s eye during a sadistic ceremonial killing…

So now, late in the day… it emerges the nearest village is some 3 – 4 hours from home via public transport (and this in itself is a death-defying feat) and we are stuck, hostage to a gangrenous cat on a lonely mountainside…

Our only hope… a worn little track down the sheer cliff to the promise of a village below…

Blindly we commence our descent, meandering, weaving between the mosquito infested plants… only to be confronted with the horrific fact that landslides have in fact engulfed our only hope of survival and all that remained before us was the gaping scars of a broken mountain…

With no means to reascend, we braved the crumbling earth and step after step hoisted our way down the vertical scale… fearing with each step that we were headed to certain doom and an impenetrable jungle with no more path…

With great intrepidation, we turned the final rocky corner, and relief, a field, the familiar sight of roving cattle, and the nicest of farmers willing to drive a Ute load of worn out gringos into the nearest town and commence their battle against the odds of public transport home…

Some 12 hours later… re-emerging in Boquete, we the victorious have survived another day.

May all your landslides be punctuated with generous farmers, wherever in the world they are.

Always,

L

despite being sideways, gangrene inflicts fear into the hearts of many

despite being sideways, gangrene inflicts fear into the hearts of many