I'm in Aberdeen. In my head I'm saying it like Danny Bhoy said - 'I wasn't in heaven I was in Ballarat! I landed here to a rather warm 5 degrees which felt like it was on the other side of the number line. And promptly I forgot English.
I thought I was hearing the oddest conversation when people behind me in line for the taxi were talking about seeing 'undi' at work tomorrow and how they've stayed in touch with 'undi'. Of course my brain processed it to Andy soon enough.
You know you are in the mother land when you cut someone off and they say 'sorry love'! Gotta love em!
Ta'ra Ta'ra folks!

I had an epiphany of sorts yesterday. It was minor as epiphanies go but since this space must be revived at all costs, the aforementioned epiphany will be penned here for posterity.
For the 28 odd years that I have inhabited God's green earth everyone around me has told me that I do a lot (was it a Freudian slip that I typed that 'do a not' before correcting it?). But introspection led me to conclude that I am not a driven person (although I was in the literal sense of the word till a few years ago which friends and bus drivers will bear testament to). I do not have a burning passion for my job, do not have the drive that leads me to wake up thinking of something or wake up at all for that matter.
Nor am I easily influenced, which leads some people to be driven to follow other people. What I am is inspired. Easily, constantly, and consistently inspired. By everything and everyone around me. Some inspirations are short lived as are the consequent actions. Others last for life. The more I think about it the more I realise that we live in largely uninspiring times. Where the holy grail seems to be lack of social interaction altogether, what with being able to speak to your responding iPhone! I mean Siri-ously!
So running out of fuel as we might be - we continue to live in hope, after all we can be inspired by those around us who also continue without inspiration!

I sometimes read my old posts and wonder how long it will take for me to be able to pen my thoughts again in a similar fashion. You see, living in a non-English speaking country (continent?!) takes a toll on more than just your lifestyle. It takes a toll on your language.
What used to be free flowing, eloquent prose has now been replaced by halting, sometimes meaningless meandering around the point. And only I am to blame for not throwing myself head first into learning the local language(s!).
But I will be back, I promise me that, back I shall be. Baby steps to begin with...

So so so this blog has been eating dust for far too long! And just as it sputters, coughs and decides to breathe its last there I am, revival kit in hand!
I am choosing not to dwell on the past - although there is far too much to dwell upon. Instead I want to write an ode to two people - my hairdresser from Canberra and my dentist from Auckland.
Now I know that Ashanka of Spiritus Mundi fame somehow climbed into my head ten minutes ago and wrote out my thoughts on the hair dresser (yes, we're telepathic like that!) but oh well - no amount of paeans sung to soul-mate hairdressers is enough say I. See, the thing about a soul mate hair dresser is that they're like the man you want. They that just get you. You walk into their hands unsure and nervous and they pull you out of the depths of despair by making you look all shiny and wavy and suddenly the birds are a'chirpin and the geese are a'layin and its Christmas in June! And suddenly you feel like Julie Andrews singing 'I have confidence in confidence alooooone...' and you know that no amount of horrible supervisors or pesky co-workers can get you down.
Hairdressers and a good dentist. I need a dentist. Not in the 'pull out my rotting molar' kind of way but just for a thumbs up that it's all ok in there. And that my sub conscious teeth grinding hasn't worn em all off! I left my dream dentist in Auckland. Very few people, correct that, no one can tell you that you are a challenge and make you feel good about it the way she did! Sitting on that chair I used to find myself wishing that she was my shrink (no I don't have one yet) instead of my dentist and but for the funny contraptions in my mouth and, you know the fact that she was my dentist(!), I would have spilled my guts to her in a heartbeat.
Unfortunately, Brussels hasn't revealed any soulmates yet. The hairdresser is good although I can only say 'layered' in French and she goes on to do whatever she likes. I on my part am too nervous about her little pet dog nipping around my feet to really care.
On the other hand, I don't want to give Brussels the opportunity to reveal its dentists to me, soul mate or otherwise. Going by my recent medical experience I would prefer not to know.

It feels good to write again. In the golden words of my dentist ' floss the ones you want to keep'. I'm going to read too much into it and assume she meant ' take care of the things that matter'.

And just to prove that it does run in the family - a little gem by my sister...
------

For those who have been
For those yet to be seen
For those who want to belong
For those lost in the throng

For those who the eyes perceive
But the mind willingly deceives
For those we will never understand
For those with heads buried in the sand

For those who relentlessly try
Harder and harder just to get by;
For those who can afford leisure
And whose wealth is beyond measure

For those to who time was kind
Whom malady and tragedy never did find
For those that time forgot
Always at the end of their lot

For those whom humanity did not seek
Only prejudice and hatred made weak
For those of belligerent disposition
Whom peace and amity never propositioned

For those who privilege followed
And pride and greed hastily swallowed
For those consumed in vices
Only desire and indulgence entices

And finally for those who learn from this life
That love is the antidote to all this strife
That solitude is a choice, not a compulsion
That freedom is arduous work and devotion

For those who learn to turn the other cheek
For those who remain quiet, but never meek
For those whose faith is boundless
For those who endeavour to share happiness

For those with dignity and intelligence
And most of all, a little common sense!
A kudos, a salutation and an applause
For these are the ones who strive for a cause
---------
It is true, they may be born after you - but they're in no way behind you!

Thank you for the sunshine
thank you for the rain
thank you for making life for us
a little sane

Thanks for taking us in
like we always belonged
thanks for giving us a home
and keeping us safe and warm

Thank you for the beaches
the wide expanse of sea
more beauty than we could imagine
more joy than there could be

Thank you for the countless friends
most of whom remain
thanks for memories to last a lifetime
thanks for changing, yet staying the same

As the distances grow and dim
across oceans we roam
thank you for giving us the privilege
of calling you home

It has been 12 years of calling Auckland home. I found something I had written many years ago - and thought I should put it up. Just like all other years, this festive season too was spent in the warm embraces of home and the sun-kissed Auckland beaches.
Nothing compares to a warm cup of tea with the family - nothing at all. I don't have a resolution this year as much as a revelation - I want to be home. So come on world, having me around here is a limited time offer - make the most of it!

How much is too much?

If I were to do this blog justice, this post should start at a few months ago and fill few tens of pages. In the last few months life has seen some real highs and some crushing lows.
But the new year brings with it hope. Here's hoping that this year will give us the same amount of strength to endure that the past years have given us.
But there is an issue that requires elaboration and valuable advice for those who may follow and to begin I must quote the age old adage - health is wealth.
See it started small. Almost imperceptible. I couldn't fit into a friend's dress. I bought size 10 jeans instead of size 8. An aunty made a passing comment and asked for 'reducing' tips. And slowly a girl that prided herself on eating everything, a healthy girl who was just fine, who could run, read, write and think, just like everyone else - in fact better than some - began to eat next to nothing - and rather quickly, along with precious weight, words like 'imperceptible' started vanishing.
I have battled with anemia for as long as I can remember, so at first I thought the one spoon a day or syrup and some multi-V popped in should do the trick. It didn't. My dad thought that the fact that I looked and sounded exhausted was due to work. The paleness of my skin was due to the bad laptop camera and my irritability was genetic. It wasn't.
Come December, I dragged my 49 kgs back to Auckland (I really should have just checked myself in, the excess baggage would have cost less than my airfare!) and I still remember the look of shock on my family's face. I remember the moment of revelation when I shed my heavy winter coats and sweaters and saw myself, for the first time, for what I had become. And of course the tests showed it in black and white just in case I had missed my bones trying to rip through my skin.
Thus began 3 weeks of intense re-hab. Eating three meals, just like I used to, eating cheese, butter, ice-creams and sugar - like normal people do. Getting me back on my feet, getting my mind in order by getting my body in order.
No I was not anorexic, bulimic or any other 'ic' - not medically. But slowly I had warped my mind into equating every food with calories, into borderline starvation. All because bloody designers decided to make size 8 the new size 10 and because anorexia became the new 'model'.
The change has been rapid. Words come to me now, I sleep soundly, am not heard as much but also seen and I can think again! And while it is not yet full and complete and I will not write a book called 'Weighty Issues - the 'Iron'y of it all' or star in a movie called 'Iron Woman', i just wanted to put it out there in case E! is reading or Gucci is looking for another stick thin model (before I become normal again!).
On a more serious note - next time you see me and I BS about weight, fatty foods or anything along these lines - you have a free pass to whack me over the head and then buy me a waffle!