Friday, September 30, 2011

He liked it so he put a ring on it

About nine or ten months ago, I found a ring on etsy and fell so in love with it that I told Inspector Climate that I wanted it as my engagement ring - you know whenever he felt like proposing (this was back before visas became a daily discussion, we'd moved in together, and were getting married in approximately 5 weeks).  I've never been a big fan of diamonds. In fact, I don't like them at all.

When Inspector Climate actually proposed the first time it was so impromptu that there was no talk of a ring. And the second time, he gave me a ring I already owned until we could order the one I fell so madly in love with online.

Here's the thing with me, I'm allergic to everything - absolutely everything.  Including metals: gold, nickel, copper, bronze...you know, the things that make up jewellery.  I am not allergic to sterling silver IF the alloy isn't made up of too much copper, and it's a fine fine balance, some pieces of jewellery I'm fine with and others cause whole hand rashes that look like poison ivy. FANTASTIC.

My point is when I was ordering the ring from the etsy shop, NODEFORM, I wanted to make sure that I wasn't going to be allergic to the ring.  After emailing back and forth with NODEFORM for a couple of weeks to see if we could pin down what alloy of sterling silver I'm allergic to and what one I am not, Inspector Climate and I finally ordered the ring a few weeks ago.  And it arrived yesterday.  When I opened the package, I was so excited to finally see it in the flesh, because I mean...look at it. It's just stunning...
Image from NODEFORM

I've been wearing it for about 18 hours now and so far haven't gotten an allergic reaction to it, so fingers crossed that it stays that way. Because I'm simply smitten with my ring and I refuse to give it back.

Image from NODEFORM


I knew if the ring was too expensive I wouldn't want to wear it because I'd be scared of losing it or ruining it, I also knew I wanted something that seemed quintessentially me.  I think this ring is both of these things.  I'm going to give myself until tomorrow to see if my body rejects the ring, in which case, body, we're going to have to have a serious discussion about what is good for us.  First it was wheat...and I said "fine, you don't like wheat, I won't eat it even though it is delicious" but my engagement/getting married ring?...I must put my foot down).

Also,  my dear Inspector Climate, thank you for liking it and for putting not just any ring on it, but a ring that I am quite smitten with.  I adore it, and you!

I'd highly recommend ordering from NODEFORM (website here; shop here; or follow on twitter here) (and no, I'm not getting any compensation for this post), not only are the pieces completely unique and absolutely lovely, but you cannot buy fantastic service - 12 emails were exchanged - and I could even send it back within a few days if I did have an allergic reaction to it!




Tuesday, September 27, 2011

How to prepare for an interview: Decoybetty Style

Today I had an interview for a job because of this blog.  And so now, I must bow to you, blog, and to you, bloggers, for letting this little space on the internet be a place that causes me so much joy that I can't help but blog every day.  No seriously, thank you.  I adore you, blog, and each one of you.  If I could get a puppy to give you a kiss right now I would. THAT is how much I love you.

With that in mind, I thought I'd show my gratitude the only way I know how, which is to impart a bit advice I've learned from my panic attacks over job interviews.  Let thee not panic in case a job interview falls in your lap. Just follow this step by step process.

  1. Sit on your bed and contemplate how this happened to you.  That's right, remind yourself why you deserve to have a job interview - which is because you're awesome. As if that needs explaining.
  2. Research the organisation's mission and history. You know to find out what they do.
  3. Read it about 12 times.
  4. Convince yourself you have no idea what they do or how they do it.
  5. Assume that sometime in the interview you'll have a major epiphany and the reading you've done will come out of your month in your own words. 
  6. Write questions for when the interviewer asks you if you have any questions.
  7. Write back up questions for your questions because chances are they'll answer the question you so cleverly wrote.
  8. Remind yourself of your "biggest weakness" and remember to turn it into your biggest asset.
  9. Take a shower.
  10. Ahhh, hot water.
  11. Iron your foxy interview outfit.
  12. Hold it up and realise that you've somehow added MORE wrinkles. Curse.
  13. Re-iron shirt.
  14. Realise that you keep making it worse.
  15. Iron skirt. 
  16. Be slightly more successful in skirt de-wrinkling objective (this is good start throwing around words like 'horizontal integration' and 'key objectives')
  17. Leave for interview so that you arrive one-hour early to your destination. 
  18. Find the building you're going to while nonchalantly walking past, you know in case they're watching you.
  19. Find a Hudson's or Gloria Jean's coffee shop.
  20. Order a soy chai latte.
  21. Check watch.
  22. Burn your tongue.
  23. Re-read your notes, realise that your hand writing is an abomination.
  24. Freak out that you have no idea what you're doing or why your doing it.
  25. Worry that you have soy foam on your nose.
  26. Check watch again.
  27. Notice that you're 'freshly' ironed shirt is wrinkled.
  28. Wish you took home-ec so that you learned how to iron.
  29. Check your watch again.
  30. Tell yourself to man up, and walk to the building where the interview will be held.
I can't give you any advice past that point.  And you wouldn't want me to, today during the interview I said "vivor" instead of vigor.  Le sigh. 

Friday, September 23, 2011

7 things and spreading the bloggy love

Hello my pretties. Happy Weekend or Friday I guess, depending on where you are located.

Angela over at Grahangela gave me the '7 things' award, type thing - Thank you!

You know how these things work right? I tell you 7 things about me. I spread some bloggy love.  And then we all bust a move to 'Everybody wants the same thing' by the scissor sisters.

7. The Scissor Sisters got me through college.  True story.

6. I'm trying two new kinds of cheese (maybe, I am unsure of the rules of this 1000 cheese project) today.  A Jensen's Red that is locally made in Gippsland.  It is some variation on Brie I think. I don't know I found it hard to concentrate because the guy selling the cheese was super chatty and he made me blush by assuming I was buying fancy cheese to woo my boyfriend who was apparently coming over tonight for some cheesy love. Or something.

The other is a very aged cheddar with black wax on it. Aptly named "Black wax cheddar"...Would it taste different if it was red wax? So many questions.
5. I'm actually having a cheese lunch with my friend Jess.  We'll watch a terrible movie and stuff ourselves with cheese (not shown is the soon to be baked camembert ... sorry, I had to wipe up my drool).
4. A few of you asked what my new job was, which I can't really disclose but I am writing some copy for an environmental not-for-profit and helping them with some social media stuff. It's only a two day a week temporary (until November) position. But it came at a GREAT time because my other job is ending. 

3. I just found out that Kyle Hepp and Seba are coming to Australia next year.  If they can book a wedding. So if you know anyone who is having a wedding in Australia and needs a photographer duo that is totally kick ass. Send them to their website. Do it so your hypothetical friend can have super awesome wedding/boudoir/engagement/family photos of themselves, or because Kyle and I really want to meet each other and dance awkwardly in public while our Significant Others laugh at us.   Look, I don't care what the motive is...just do it.

2.  I like to pretend that Inspector Climate and I were so in sync with our future selves that we planned our "getting married" honeymoon way before we knew we were getting married.   We leave for our trip to Vanuatu a mere 2 weeks after getting married!  We're very intuitive.

1. The other night at about 3 AM Inspector Climate mumbled "happy birthday" and then said loudly "WHAT DID YOU SAY" and when I said "nothing, you said happy birhday." He angrily replied "Nevermind, go back to sleep."  Seriously, the boy is feisty in his sleep.

And here are some blogs you should probably check out:





Now let's dance...?

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Environmental Wednesday on Thursday: We change

 "An agriculture that is whole nourishes the whole person, body and soul.  
We do not live by bread alone" 
~Wendell Berry~

I've talked about my desire eat locally grown (hopefully by me) and organic food a lot on this blog. Like when I made the most lemon-y lemon bars.  Inspector Climate hasn't always been on board with this love affair.  And that's not surprising considering it wasn't all that long ago that he wasn't interested in climate change or the environment at all.  And it has only been recently that he's seen the connection between how we grow our food, our health, and our environment.



The interconnectedness was helped along by the book by Michael Pollan that came out several years ago called The Omnivore's Dilemma.  We all know how much I like Michael Pollan, I wrote him a love letter.  And I must admit, I bought this book for Inspector Climate knowing that after reading it he would change his eating habits.  Inspector Climate eats meat, and that's fine, this I did not go out of my way to change (as long as he doesn't ask me to cook it for him, or touch it, or doesn't leave it near other food in the fridge - look I'm picky). I am not one of those vegetarians that gets offended or hurt or will lecture meat eaters.  However, I do think it is important to know where that meat comes from that you're eating. Just like it's important to know where that broccoli came from.

And so, we found a place at the Prahran Market that sells organic free range sandwich ham, Hagens.  I can't tell you how it tastes or if it is different from the non-organic, hormone taking, caged ham that they sell  across the aisle, but I can tell you that the people selling the organic ham seem happier than those selling the other stuff.

The Omnivore's Dilemma goes into great detail describing where American meat and produce comes from. And most importantly, to me, it follows the production of where organic food comes from.  When I hear the world organic, I think about gardens like my mom's.  Where organic means an alternative way of growing fruit and vegetables. But big business has stolen organic from the 'alternative life style, locally grown, free ranging animal' meaning that it used to have.  And that disturbs me.

For my birthday, Mr Climate made me a planter box so that I could make my dreams of growing even a little bit of my own food myself, even in suburbia, come true.

  
So far I have some happy flowers (pansies? I am horrible with flower names) growing in my flower box, and coriander happily meeting the sun.  My basil is suffering and I am not sure if that's because it's getting too much sun or not enough water or what!  My tomato plant is blossoming! And my spinach is flourishing.

And our lemon tree, oh our lemon tree has blossoms all over it! After months of seeming like it couldn't make up its mind on whether to continue growing or boycott life, it has decided to flower.  

It is unrealistic to think that at this point in our lives, Inspector Climate and I could grow any significant amount of our food.  And while we've recently decided to make a more concerted effort to step away from all things big business (Inspector Climate has even started referring to the supermarket as the stupidmarket. Go ahead and roll your eyes, I know I do), growing even this small box of vegetables has cemented our view that the relationship that we were cultivating with Coles and Safeway wasn't healthy.  

Another birthday gift from my old housemate was a book called The One-Straw Revolution by Masanobu Fukuoka, I'm only on page 13. So I can't give you a full run down on this guy's beliefs. BUT in the preface by Wendell Berry this quote struck me "When we change the way we grow our food, we change our food, we change society, we change our values.  And so this book is about paying attention to relationships, to causes and effects, and it is about being responsible for what one knows."

I don't write this in hopes that you suddenly decide to buy all organic food for the rest of your days or so you drop your careers and start an organic farm (although I'd totally support both those choices).  No, I write this in the hope that we can all start having just a small amount of awareness about our actions because they all matter. 

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

I'm too busy being Grumpet

I am having an extremely Grumpet kind of day (Grumpet clearly being a grumpy muppet).  I'm homesick. Very very homesick. 

I even tried to cover up the homesickness by eating four Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.

It helped a little.

So, um, that's what's new with me. What's new with you?

Monday, September 19, 2011

Pick your men based on yellow ear patches...It's science.

A couple of days ago on twitter, the BBC posted this.  First of all, how much do you want to just cuddle with those fuzzy baby penguins?  I love penguins.  I think this is fairly well known.  And besides the obvious reasons to love them: their waddle; their formal attire; and their ability slide on their tummy, I love their relationships with each other.  When penguins mate, they pick a partner for the long haul.  And daddy penguins? Well, they're just plain good dads.  And there is nothing hotter than a good dad, amiright ladies (this of course is being said from the girl who doesn't want kids...but still!)?

Over the weekend, I insisted that Inspector Climate watch March of the Penguins which is probably in my top 10 love stories and it makes me want to visit Antarctica even more (despite that harsh cold windy winter).  But what is so amazing about that footage (besides everything) is the amount of love between the parents as they carefully transfer the egg from the mama's feet to the daddy's feet, and bow their heads together sharing little penguin beak kisses.

Oh the penguin love. It is real, yo.

This is just to say, that I was looking for a thank you card to send to one of Inspector Climate's family members at this little bookstore on Degraves St last week and I found this card:


Which is awesome for many reasons, see those brown flaps on the back?  That's what you write on and then remove and can put a different piece of paper in there to reuse the gift card which is just brilliant! (I'd show you the inside but it's a love note to IC and no one needs to read that) You can check out their 100% post consumer recycled cards printed with vegetable ink at Merrygoround.com.au - and no they didn't pay me to write this. 

Secondly, the swans necks intertwined meant that I knew I had to buy this card for Inspector Climate (he bought me an engagement ring - and I bought him a card?  Yeah. Sure, that's the same...) (More on the ring later...I promise).  I adore the tangled nature of the card, the intertwined necks.  That's love.  Bird love. But love.

What is my point? 

Eh, I don't really have one.  It's Monday morning and I've got penguins on the brain and love is, well, everywhere!

Oh yeah, and if you're looking for a mate, take one out of the penguin handbook...try dying your ear patches brighter yellow...Sexy.

Friday, September 16, 2011

Mark your calenders people...Nov 8

Spring is springing in Melbourne.  When I moved here in 2008, I was prepared for a lot of things. I was prepared for the warmer climate, the reverse seasons, that there would be accent issues and language mis-slips.  But what I didn't know, what I couldn't prepare for was what spring would feel like without the melting snow, the muddy grass, and gradual climb to warmer days.

Melbourne Springs are windy. And each year, the wind catches me off guard.


Things are changing rapidly around me. So rapidly, I am having a hard time keeping up.  And for someone who doesn't handle change with grace, this brings more than a few challenges with it.  I started a new job last week.  And while so far it is fantastic, it is still new. I am still learning the ropes, learning my role, learning what is expected from me and what I need to achieve.

I haven't had any recent Attack of the Cysts episodes recently, but the fact that the ultrasound didn't show any problems has left me worried and unsure about what the next steps are to better diagnose my problem.

And on top of that, Inspector Climate and I made a date with the wedding registry and are getting married on November 8th.  There is very little planning involved there really, his grandparents and parents will come. My closest friend in Australia will come as my witness.  And while we tell ourselves this isn't the real wedding, this is the real deal. We will be really married after our 30 minute ceremony with the celebrant.  In fact, I refuse to call it our wedding. Our wedding will be in New England. We're just getting married. We're having a "getting married" ceremony. You know, as you do.

This is, needless to say, not how I pictured it.  And 'it' doesn't even begin to refer to the ceremony in and of its self.   Both my brothers were with their wives for nearly 10 years before they got married. Of course they met when they were in their teens. I just assumed that is how it would be for me.   But  I wasn't ready to meet a boy and fall in love when I was 18.  I had a lot of growing and self exploration to do.  I didn't picture being so worried about everyone's feelings - will my parents feel left out that their only daughter is getting married 15,000 miles away? Will people think it is silly for us to have the "real deal" wedding ceremony in 2013? What if no one is excited then? What if I'm not excited then? What if...?

One of my yoga instructors talks at length about using the seasons to help process emotions that we hold to.  And spring is the time for creating new habits and letting go of habits that no longer serve us.  Making room in our lives for the changes and growth that spring brings.  And so, I am striving to create new habits: I want to watch less tv, read more books, take advantage of sunny days and enjoy the new life that I am trying to cultivate.

My little tomato plant.

And with that, I am trying to let go of the things that don't serve me so well. To embrace the fantastic new changes that life has brought me, and put aside the worry and the fear of all those "what ifs."  I can't do it all today.  But I can start making the habits that will let me do it all for someday.

And until then, bitches, I am getting married on November 8th!!

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

It's divine. It's delicious. It's scrumptious. It's down right delectable.

Again, I bring you a post that I started writing months ago and have finally decided to bite the bullet and post. Because I live on the edge like that.  You see, I'm suffering from some bloggers block. I'd love to tell you about how last week I had to go get an ultrasound and not just any ultrasound but an internal ultra sound. And if you're a mother or pregnant you're all "whatevs" because hey doctors look at your nether regions all the time.  But let me tell you I was totally freaking out about the whole ordeal (I looked truly fabulous in my polka dotted smock though, next time I'll be brave enough to take a picture, I promise).  And when it was over the guy was all "I can't see anything wrong with your ovaries" and I breathed a big sigh of relief until he was all "well, except for the blood around that one, it's probably nothing but I want you in for another ultrasound in seven weeks" which obviously was terrible news because it means I have to go through the trauma of being probed AGAIN.  So instead of talking about that (which of course, I've now talked about for a very large and clumsy paragraph) I bring you a small observation about Australians.

There are words that I would use to describe food - and by food I mean the taste of food.  Things like "It's delightfully crunchy" or "or that hint of lemon is just yummy!"

However, I've found that most Australians, when presented with something absolutely delicious will describe it as "beautiful."  I find this fascinating, beautiful things to me are visual and not based on the taste. I love it.

Of course they mean something entirely different when they say "you beauty."

Saturday, September 10, 2011

As addictive as popcorn, but yummier.

Remember when I lost my shit in front of a police station?  Well, turns out that still makes me ridiculously angry.

I went to have another visit with my lawyer this week, and he said that people have gotten it done without the centralised booking service and he gave me a list of a few metropolitan police stations I should try.  And so I called a couple, and got an officer who assured me that he could do it. I just needed to call before hand to make sure there was a female officer present.  And so I called today, all ready to get this finger printing business done and of course I got a different officer who said that no, no they couldn't do it. I mean, hadn't I heard, there is a centralised booking service now.  I know that talking smack to a police officer probably isn't wise - but hey maybe THAT would get me some fingerprinting done, amiright?

I was devastated. Yet another example where I can't regulate my hopes and then they crash so hard that I lose all rational sense. 

After the complete high that was getting engaged, I have been faced with some challenges about how and when we'd like to get married and when and how we'd like our wedding to be. And yes, there is a different between those two things.  Which I am sure I can bore you all with at length at later date if you so desire.

So I of course turned to my oven to make me feel better and made sweet and salty chickpeas.

Roasted chickpeas are outstandingly delicious. I mean seriously, there something about the crunch that is just so addicting that I end up eating whole cans of chickpeas by myself. And during moments where I HAVE to share, I do so begrudgingly.  I like roasted chickpeas both savoury or sweet, but last night I had to have the sweet ones.

First: Preheat your oven to something hot like 200 C or 450 F.

Second: drain your chickpeas into a colander and rinse. I like to let them dry out as much as a possible - but these are so delicious that I am often too impatient to get them in the oven.

Third: Dump chickpeas onto a baking tray (I like to cover my tray with piece of parchment paper first - and I've found that my silpat doesn't work well with these) and stick them into the oven. Yup that's right. No oil no nothing. Just stick 'em in.

Fourth: Wait for 30 minutes.  They should be incredibly crispy. I always am afraid they're going to burn, but be as patient as possible.

While they are roasting. Take two teaspoons of brown sugar and put it in a bowl large enough to hold the can of chickpeas.  Add a 1/4 teaspoon of salt and 1 teaspoon of olive oil to the sugar. Mix until it's all combined.

Once the chickpeas are well and truly roasted, dump them into the sugar mixture and mix thoroughly making sure the chickpeas are well coated.

Eat while warm (is my preference). But apparently these last for a few days in a sealed container at room temperature and they taste good then too.

I am sorry I don't have any pictures of them. I was too busy stuffing my face with their delectable crunchy sweet and saltiness.

Wednesday, September 07, 2011

How we got engaged. Officially. Part two

Haven't read part 1, go here.

So we're sitting in the car. I'm a snotty disgusting mess with a grouchy personality to match and Inspector Climate is being a knight in shining armour hoping to whisk me away from every thing that is horrible.

In between sobs, I told him he didn't mean it.  That this isn't how he wanted it to be. And it should be how he wanted.

He assured me he meant it, that he didn't care that this isn't how he pictured it. He had been thinking about it for days and had been planning on asking me in the next two weeks but seeing me so distraught he had to ask me now.

My tears slowly dried up and we started on our way back to The Climates house, neither of us could quite face telling people that day that we were engaged so we decided to wait until Tuesday when Inspector Climate would ask me officially.  When we were alone, we'd giggle to ourselves about our little secret and test out calling each other fiancĂ©. I'd say "you're going to marry me" and he'd say "Yes I am."

That night Mrs Climate made threw me a birthday party complete with polka dot orange balloons (not pictured), fairy lights, a delicious cake, and unbeknownst to her, but quite fittingly balloons that said "congratulations" because she couldn't find any Happy Birthday ones in orange.


On Monday, I had to have my visa medical redone because apparently my results had expired. This is me rocking (a new haircut) and the gown for the chest xray. My mother said that I look like I'm at a concentration camp - she always knows how to cheer me up that one. That grumpy look on my face? That's the "I can't believe I am wearing an open backed hospital gown AGAIN" look.



 On Tuesday, both Inspector Climate and I worked from home. Any thoughts that I wasn't ready for this (and there were many) dissipated as we enjoyed being able to spend the day together. On a weekday. The novelty!  While I worked, Inspector Climate went to the market to pick up our groceries for the week and came back to our apartment carrying these


I never thought having fresh flowers was that important, but I love having them in the house, and I love that Inspector Climate would go out of his way to make the whole day a little special.  After we finished our work days, we climbed into bed for an afternoon nap. Snuggled together as we talked, Inspector Climate reached into his bedside table and pulled out the ring (the ring that I had given him as our "temporary" engagement ring until we order the real deal) and asked me if I'd marry him.  I don't remember what I said. I mumbled incoherently until he asked if that was a 'yes'.  "Yes, of course it's a yes!" 

To celebrate we went out to eat at a restaurant that I've been meaning to go to for several months. It's a 100% gluten free Mexican restaurant, that even serves black beans and uses chipotle, Mamasita. I decided to get a little dressed up for the occasion because I rarely utilise the chance to don a pretty dress. 

 This is what it looked like out of focus:


 And this what I looked like in focus.
 
When we got back from dinner, Inspector Climate called his parents to tell him the news. They were beyond excited. And the next morning, I skyped with my family to tell them the news. They were thrilled as well. I guess I didn't quite anticipate that as being one of the perks of being engaged. Everyone is so incredibly happy for you.  The happiness is palpable.


Monday, September 05, 2011

How we got engaged. Unofficially. Part 1

About two weeks ago, Inspector Climate and I, fresh from our angst after hearing from my lawyer,  realised that how we pictured the time line of our relationship might in fact be very different from the realities with which we are faced.  We started pondering that maybe we should just go ahead and get engaged.

Inspector Climate said he needed to think about it.  Which let's be honest  - is TOTALLY reasonable.  You see, he had always thought that he would propose on our 3rd anniversary (October 2012).  So, feeling like I was being a pushy bitch, I told him that when and if (and only when or if) he was ready, to just ask me and I would stop bringing it up and stop agonising over The Process that is immigrating and just got on with you know, actually immigrating.

One of the things that I have to do is get my fingerprints taken to be sent to the FBI. So I called a few police stations in my 'hood and asked if they had the facilities to go about doing such a thing.  And these police stations directed me to a "centralised booking system" which now deals with all non-criminal fingerprint bookings.  Bear in mind that this part of the visa process was most important to get done quickly because it was going to take the longest, so I called in and they said the earliest appointment they had was in November. NOVEMBER. But they said, don't you fret none because LOTS of police stations will do it for you if you just call and ask (HAHAHAHA, you're funny centralised booking system).

I knew I'd be in Gippsland for my birthday, and I figured that a country town might be more laidback and more likely to ignore this centralised booking system nonsense.  So I called a police station nearest to where The Climates live.

"Of course you can get your fingerprints done here! Just call before you drive down to make sure there hasn't been some crazy crime and there is an officer here"  Officer 'I don't know what I am talking about' said!

Fantastic said I! See you on Saturday.

So, on Saturday, my birthday, I called this police station and asked if I could stop in and the guy was all "haven't you heard, we have moved to a centralised booking system and no longer do non-criminal fingerprints. But I can give you a number if you want?"

"Oh, but the guy at the centralised booking office said that police stations with the facilities to do fingerprints sometimes still do them... AND the officer I talked to a few days ago said that it was fine?"

"Oh yeah, no sorry, we can't - you should try a different station."

And so, I called 5 other police stations.  Who all assured me that the centralised booking system was the way to go, or they didn't have the facilities but other police stations in the areas did.  The 6th police station I called said, that he was pretty sure he could do it, he just had to wait until his superior returned and he'd give me a buzz back.  I waited for an hour for his call, and was getting so frustrated...I tried a 7th a police station.

"Yeah, of course you can get your fingerprints done!"

"REALLLY?!"

"Yeah, no problem"

"Are you sure? Because there seems to be some confusion with centralised booking service ... "

"No, I am sure"

"Ok! I'll see you in an hour!"

So, Inspector Climate and I drove for an hour and some minutes to arrive at a police station.  We parked out front, I was nearly clapping with glee and walked inside where the police officer came out and said "oh yeah, sorry, we can't actually do the fingerprints if they're non-criminal...you should try the main police station for the area [station #6 who never did call me back], and they should be able to do it."

And so we left said police station, sat in the car in the parking lot and I called that main area police station who assured me that the centralised booking system was what everyone used these days and that they were sorry they couldn't help me.

And as soon as I hung up, I cried. I cried big ugly tears with spit bubbles coming out of my mouth and snot shooting out of my nose in the most unlady like fashion.  I wailed how unfair it is that each and every FUCKING step of this process has to be so hard.  I was distraught, the frustration and the pain and the angst just all came pouring out.

Inspector Climate dutifully rubbed my back and told me it would be ok and I angrily said "It's not going to be ok! Stop saying it's going to be OK! Nothing is ok! This is too hard!"And more spit bubbles.

"I've been thinking...maybe we should get married" he said.

"You're just saying that to make me stop crying...you'll do anything to make me stop crying" I sobbed.


Because the truth is...I don't always say the right thing either.


Saturday, September 03, 2011

Let's rewind...to my birthday

Last Saturday, I turned twenty six. I find that birthdays are a better time to make some yearly goals than the New Year for me. I am not sure why that is.

Lets take a look at last year's goals:

1.  Get a job. I want a job that fulfils my visa requirements, that makes me feel like I am contributing to something useful in this world, that is hopefully in melbourne - but if not somewhere that's beautiful to live and near good yoga (one can't be too picky), that while I may not love going to work EVERY day makes me inspired and excited. Also, not to be too you know...picky, but soon would be nice...Just Sayin',

Ok, so the year prior I had these goals where I learned that perhaps I should be specific in visualising what I want.  A lesson I clearly needed to remember this time - I did get a job that fulfilled my visa, however I only had it for 3 months. Which is unfortunately not even close to long enough to appease the visa gods.

Anyway, That's not the point the point is that this year I have some new goals.

1. I want to find fulfilling work in the environment sector that I love and that I am good at.

2. I want to get better at taking pictures.  Now notice I didn't saw photographs - and there is a difference. As such, I promise to post more pictures in my posts.  In fact this week, I took a picture every day here are some of them:

The birthday cake that Mrs Climate made me (hazelnut sponge cake with chocolate cream layers)


A door into a mine:

The tower in Melbourne Central

The flower Inspector Climate picked for me after getting engaged


 Tune in next time for the engagement story.

Thursday, September 01, 2011

Let's shout from the roof tops! And of course dance in the streets.

On Tuesday, Inspector Climate asked me to marry him.

I, of course said "YES!"

It was while we cuddled up in bed about to take a nap, snuggled up inside blankets and wrapped around each other to keep warm.

It was both unexpected and completely predetermined (more on that later).

Our families are beyond excited with skype phone calls had and emails sent and normal phone calls - a truly international experience.

I am supposed to be working, but I couldn't keep it in any more - and I certainly couldn't keep this secret from the internet for a second more, I was going to burst!