Countries I Have Visited #LifeThisWeek

Hello there, lovely people! It's time to reveal the extensive list of countries I have visited. Here it is...

Countries I Have Visited:

• Holland.

The End.

That was a quick post.

Byyyye!

Just kidding. I'm the queen of rambling. Can't get rid of me that easily. So ner!

It's true, though. The only country I've visited is Holland. Technically I should change the title of this post, but why nitpick?

I was certain I had already blogged about visiting Holland before, but when I went looking for the post I couldn't find it. Weird.

I went there as a ten year old with my parents and brother. It was 1981. I can still remember it. Well, bits of it.

We stayed with some friends of ours in Rotterdam. We ended up riding bikes everywhere. My parents have all the snapshots because obviously 1981 was a very long time ago. They also have footage which they had made into a DVD and gave me a copy, but I don't know how to upload it here.

In the footage I can be seen as a ten year old, skipping amongst the tulips.

Not the actual tulips I skipped amongst.

Other random memories of Holland:

• When we arrived I allegedly slept for a solid 17 hours due to jet lag. If I ever travel overseas again as a middle-aged/old lady I'll likely fall into a coma, never to wake up again.  

• I lived on bowls of custard and those round Dutch crisp bread thingys for a month. It was awesome.

• Dutch liquorice called Drop (I think), is the most vile thing I've ever tasted. A million times more salty than vegemite. Yuck!

• They served hot chips with peanut sauce, which struck me as revolting at the time. Now I realise it was probably some sort of satay type sauce and I'd probably love it.

• Yep, we did visit a windmill. I think that was day my mum was filming away merrily only to discover later there was no film in the video recorder!

• We visited some sort of touristy place where the bins would speak when you passed them saying "Papier here!" Or something. My memory of this is a little vague.

• There was a lot of punk and new wave types about and I definitely gawked stupidly at them.

• We went on a boat ride on the canal but as soon as it rocked I freaked and wanted to get off. So my dad got off with me. He doesn't like boats either and I provided him with a convenient smokescreen. Shhhhh, don't tell anyone! 😉

• I remember some of the music that was popular at the time. Such as Double Dutch Bus and Grace Jones's Strange (I've Seen That Face Before). My parents bought a single of the latter, my brother the former. This was in the prehistoric days of vinyl records!

• We almost missed the plane coming home! I'm not sure exactly how my parents got mixed up, but we were meandering around the airport thinking we had aaaages. Suddenly we heard our names being paged and had to bolt to the departure gate. We embarked red as beetroots, as all the other passengers gave us filthy looks. OOPS!

Those are snippets of memories from a very long time ago.

Sadly I've never visited any other countries, but if I could I'd visit the US, Canada and Prince Edward Island. Also; the UK. Not very likely at present, but you never know. Fingers crossed!

What about you?

Which countries have you visited?

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I Love Lobster (But Liebster Is Good Too)

Why hello groovers and shakers! I'm back after a brief interlude. I was busy sunning myself in Hawaii, drinking cocktails and reading romance novels. Oh wait... 

That was in my fantasies. Sigh.

In reality I was busy with sick kidlets and the general busyness of this thing called life. While it appeared that I wasn't doing anything unusual, my mind was in a constant overdrive of over-thinking about stuff and getting more and more confused. It's a gift people. 

Anyway, a few weeks ago the lovely Rhianna over at Rhianna Writes nominated me for something called a Liebster Award. Thanks, Rhianna! 

At first I thought it was something to with Lobster and I might get a Lobster meal out of it. Nope. Damn. I love lobster mornay. 

I really want lobster now. HMPH.

I just have to answer a few questions. Here goes:

What makes you happy?

That's easy! Cakies and Carpenters music. Oh, and my family of course! I also do a bit of aerobicising every day to get a few endorphins happening. 

Why did you start blogging?

I used to write those awful Christmas/Year In Review letters to my friends and family. They were such a hit that it became clear that I was a comic genius and I should bring my particular brand of self-deprecating bullshit wit and humour to the entire world via a blog. You're all welcome. 


What is the best thing anybody has ever said about your blog?

I've had so many people BEGGING me to write a book. Okay,  it was only one or two people who have kindly suggested it. Another also suggested I should do stand-up comedy. Which is hilarious, because I'm so shy. Somebody else said it shows who I am. Now that I think about it, I was blogging about being a bogan at the time, so I'm not sure if that was a compliment...

What are your top three bucket list items?

Um. The thing is I don't do bucket lists, but my fuck it list is quite long, as the joke goes. 

I suppose if I thought about it I'd like to move to a better house and have an overseas trip with my family. For the third thing I'll say I don't know exactly, but maybe I'll surprise myself and do something I have never even thought of. Okay, it's a long shot, but you never know... 

What is one thing you can't live without?

Oxygen, food and water. Wait, that's three things... 

Um. I'm guessing this question wasn't meant to be taken quite so literally? But what do you want from me? I'm an Aspie!


What is your favourite Australian travel destination?

We've made repeat trips to Cairns and Tassie. So it must be those places. As well as Dubbo. Who could forget about Dubbo? Shut up.

What two countries make you the happiest to visit?

I've only been in two. Australia and Holland when I was a girl. I think I was happy while there. There is actual video footage of a ten-year-old Ness skipping through the tulips in existence, but I have no idea how to upload it here, so you'll have to imagine it. 

Image credit:http://7-themes.com/6975495-tulips-field-holland.html

I skipped through these in 1981. Well, not these actual tulips,
but similar ones. Details.

What is your favourite and least favourite word?

I love words. I can't possibly single out one favourite. There are so many. Myriad, ethereal, curmudgeonly, dishevelled..  Not to mention CAKE. Who can choose?

As for least favourite, again there are several, but I really hate hearing the word retard. Sadly, there have been times when my boys have said it and I turned seventeen different shades of purple and green and have to keep on reiterating that we never say that word. Ugh. 

If you found out that due to a mix-up at the hospital that one of your children wasn't yours, would you give them back?

No, not now. It's far too late for that. They've gone over to the dark side at this point. Now that you mention it, none of them are quiet and shy. Maybe they aren't mine? But I seem to recall being there when they were born. Weird. 

Now, apparently I have to nominate people. This is the part that I find difficult because I am really not very good at this blogging community thing. (I'm trying to be better, but I'm still a space cadet. Oops). By the time I get around to joining in, every other blogger has been nominated already. So I'm just going to nominate the three link-up hosts who I'm joining in with today. Firstly because they're all awesome, and secondly because at least I know that they might read this. Lets face it, the only people who read my musings are other link-up bloggers and my Mum. Which is a shame because so  many people are missing out on my genius. Such a tragedy. Sigh. 

Anyway, over to you Kirsty, Alicia and Eva.

If you've already been nominated, just ignore me or answer in the comments. You can answer any of the above questions or alternatively these ones:

Do you like lobster mornay?

Are you an over thinker? 

Over and out. 

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Travel Fails

Today I am back to entertain you with some tails of my travel fails. As you can see I am still the consummate poet.  What can I say? It's a gift.
  


Sadly, this is a topic I am all too familiar with. Our travel experiences would most certainly fall into the fail category. Basically we have failed to travel to any glamorous destination. Instead we are more likely to end up in a rather exotic location -  like Dubbo.
 
Incidentally, if you typed tripadvisor Dubbo into your Google search engine I wonder what it would advise you?  Don't bother?  Stay home because your life sucks? Perhaps they should have that mocking voice that's on Stick Run on Facebook that declares "YOU'VE FAILED!!"  in a tone dripping with derision. Look I have nothing against Dubbo. It's a fine place. In fact I've discovered that there is a drive-through bakery there and multiple book shops, so it's practically my dream holiday destination now.


Anyway, enough about that. Back to my travel tails. When I was a mere lass of only 10 I went on my first and last overseas jaunt to Holland with my parents and brother. I'm not sure if 'jaunt' is the correct expression but it sounds cute so I'll go with it.  The month long stay with our family friends went smoothly and was most enjoyable. I do have some vintage footage on a DVD somewhere of me as a ten-year-old Ness with long red hair merrily skipping through the tulips, but I have no idea how to upload it here so you'll have to imagine  it.

The fail part came when we arrived at the airport, homeward bound. For some reason my parents mistakenly thought we had loads of time before departure. We were strolling around the airport when our names were called over the loudspeaker.  Cue the frantic sprint to the departure gate, arms and carry-on luggage akimbo. Sheepishly we boarded the plane amid the dagger-like stares of our fellow passengers whom we'd kept waiting.


Another time my parents rented an apartment at Nelson Bay in NSW for a week. The brochures forgot to mention we would be  sharing it with an army of cockroaches. There was also the delightful bonus of mattresses that reeked of urine. We only lasted one night before heading home.


Thus ended my travel adventures for many years. Enter Mickey Blue Eyes. From the minute we met it was evident that we were not only destined to be together, but to become a dynamic, jet-setting power couple. Forget Brangelina. Think Micess. Nessick? Um. I might have to think about that...


The point is, we embarked on many holidays including our honeymoon in Tasmania where we nearly drowned on a cruise through Hell's Gate. Now I know why they call it that. Another memorable trip involved watching the four walls of a motel room in Cairns for a day or two while a cyclone raged away outside.


Our holidays post children often seem to be road trips. One or more of the boys will inevitably end up puking in the car. This is always fun. Said no one ever.


On one trip to the Gold Coast we were visiting Sea World. As I peered into the humungous shark tank I leaned over to get a better look and my mobile phone slipped out of  my handbag and fell in with a splash.  Mick and the boys wandered down to underground viewing area. People were muttering in disgust about a phone being in there. Mr 13 (who was only 8 or so at the time) exclaimed "That's my Mum's!" We left, cheeks blazing. Classy. For the record, I did notify a staff member of what had happened but he seemed to have a 'why the f**k are you telling me?' expression. It's not like I expected him to dive in and retrieve it for me!


I fear we have another travel fail on the horizon. We talk about going away during the July school holidays but we still haven't done anything about it. Meanwhile, I've also begun the arduous process of applying for passports. I got to the point where we need to provide photos and referees and promptly forgot about it. Oops. Yep, I'd call that a travel fail of epic proportions. Well, it's not so much a travel fail as it is failing to travel AT ALL.


I've never actually managed to catch the travel bug the way some people do, so I'm relatively resolved to the fact that we may never have an epic overseas trip. But I guess you never know. It might still happen. In the meantime I can just watch half the people on my Facebook feed who all appear to be overseas at the moment.


And there is always that drive-through bakery in Dubbo awaiting me. How could  that be a failure? 


Linking up for I Must Confess.


What do your consider to be your travel fails?

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Decisons

 

I’ve never been good at making decisions. Sometimes I find myself agonising over the simplest of things.  Deciding what to have on a sandwich becomes this epic debate in my mind, fraught with fear and self-doubt. Should I have tuna or cheese and tomato? Perhaps a good old-fashioned curried egg and lettuce would suffice? Then again, there is left-over chicken in the fridge!  There are just too many choices!

Plus, what if it my sandwich filling choice just doesn’t delight my taste buds on that particular day? I’ve already consumed the calories! What a disaster! See? I knew I would choose the wrong thing! 

This probably explains why cheese and tomato sandwiches were my staple diet for many years. It eliminated the decision making progress to opt for the same thing time after time. If I really wanted to be totally wild and crazy I might mix it up by having toasted cheese and tomato. I’ve always been cutting edge.

This cutting edge tendency is probably apparent in my choice of attire. Boring, bland and predominantly black sums it up. Therefore, the amount of time I spend ruminating and pondering over what to wear is patently ridiculous. Who cares what I wear?  As long as I’m covered and clean that’s all that matters.

This doesn’t stop me from wasting an inordinate amount of time fussing over my outfit. It seems that I must be under some sort of grand illusion that I’m a celebrity about to be hounded by the paparazzi each time I leave the house. It’s as if I’m making the important choice of whether to wear the Prada or Gucci instead of the Best & Less or Big W. Often, I mix it  up and team Big W garments with Best & Less ones because, you know, that cutting edge thing again. And do you know what? Except for all the times I’ve been mistaken for Nicole Kidman*, this hounding by the paparazzi hasn’t happened yet! 

Don’t even get me started on grocery shopping. It’s the stuff of nightmares for a scatterbrain like me. So many aisles, so many decisions! I do take lists but still get confused once I’m in the supermarket and all those rows upon rows of choices are around me. Suddenly, things appear in my trolley that weren’t on the list. Of course they are always organic kale and herbal tea, not chocolate or cakies.  No way.

I mean, do you know how long I’d spend agonising over whether to get the Maltesers or Mars Bars? It just seems easier to get both. Ahem. Except that these days I’m on Weight Witches, so I just walk very fast past the confectionary aisle. Then I get to the check out and there they are, right in front me. Sigh. Life can be cruel sometimes.

Anyway, I spend so much time agonising over these mundane decisions it may have prevented me from making any reckless, life-changing decisions that I’ve come to regret. I’ve never taken illegal drugs, gambled away my life savings or robbed a bank.

Yes, there is an infamous mullet-perm in my past but a) it was the 80s, and b) it’s provided ample entertainment as fodder for this blog. So let’s give it another whirl.

I should regret this hairs style- but I won't. I know
you're laughing. You're welcome.

There is one mild regret lurking in my past. Rewind back to around 1992 or 1993. By this time I had ditched the mullet-perm for an attractive poodle perm. Like I said, I’ve always been cutting edge and classy. I was in my early 20s  and working at the State Library. Somehow, on my meagre pay I had managed to save a sizeable chunk of money. I was able to do this because I lived with my parents and didn’t have a car or a social life. This totally confirms my cutting edge status. Shut up.

In the back of my mind I had some hazy idea that I was saving the money to eventually buy a car or go overseas. There were two problems with this grand plan; a) I didn’t have a drivers’ license, and b) I didn’t have any friends to drag overseas with me. The idea of taking off on my own never occurred to me. I was still a tragic Mummy’s girl and ridiculously shy.

Luckily however, around this time I ended up joining Rootaract. Uh, I mean, Rotaract and thusly acquired something resembling a social life. Consequently, I met Mickey Blue Eyes.  My parents were in the process of planning a trip overseas to the UK. It crossed my mind that I had the cash to go with them. I quickly dismissed this thought as absurd. After all, mature, worldly, hip 22 year-old Mummy’s girls who lived at home and proudly owned an entire collection of Carpenters albums didn’t go overseas with their parents!  This would totally tarnish my now legendary cutting edge persona!

Case in point: The Carpenters were totally retro-cool in 1993! There was even an alternative tribute album recorded in their honour! This confirmed that I was ahead of the game and cooler than anyone gave me credit for. To my 22 year old mind I couldn’t risk the damage to my ultra-cool character. It would just be sad and pathetic to go away with my parents. Besides I would have to be parted from Mickey Blue Eyes for a whole month! We were still at that stage where we actually missed each other if we weren’t together every day.

Of course, 20 or so years later I’m wondering why this was even an issue. I see the  man all day, every day. Every. Single. Day. What was I thinking? A  month was a blip in the ocean in the scheme of things.

And the sad truth of the matter is, I would have enjoyed going overseas with my parents much more than going on some Contiki tour with a bunch of raucous, drunken twenty-somethings. Sad, but true.

So I guess what I’m saying is, if I could rewind back to 1993 I would have gone overseas with my parents. But it’s all good, because we’re currently in the process of obtaining our passports so I’m sure we’ll get there eventually. Except now we’ll have three lovely children to tag along just to make it extra special. This should be tremendous fun. I mean what could be worse: going overseas with your middle-aged parents when you’re young or waiting until you’re middle-aged and going with children? This is a totally rhetorical question, just in case you were trying to figure out the correct answer.

Oh well, I suppose I had better leave it there and go and decide what to have for lunch. After all, it could take a while.

 

Linking up for I Must Confess.

 *OK, so I've never been mistaken for Nicole Kidman. But it could still happen! HMPH!

What decision would you change if you could?

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The Buried Hopes Of A Bogan (Or Something)

It's hard to believe that I could have any regrets. I mean, just look at my life. I'm a 42 year old unemployable, overweight bogan living in a fibro box in Boganville. It doesn't get any better than that, right? However the truth is, my life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes now. That's a sentence I once read in a book and I say it over to comfort myself in these times that try the soul. Not really. The first part about the buried hopes, anyway. I've just always wanted to use that line out of Anne Of Green Gables. Ahem.

Anyway, onto my regrets. Deep regretful sigh. SIGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. Surprisingly I do have  a few. I think it would probably be a good thing to confess to them and let them go. I'll feel so much better and move forward free from regrets, a huge weight finally lifted from my shoulders. That, or I'll just add this post to the list. Who knows? Only one way to find out. In no particular order I present my list of bogan regrets:

• I regret decorating the living room of my parents house with a texta pen when I was around three years old. Sorry Mum!
• I regret kicking that boy in the shins at school when he tried to comfort me because I was peeved about not getting to go home early one day when my brother did. Even though I don't remember exactly who you were. Sorry, dude.
• I regret reading my Enid Blyton books under the desk at school. (Actually, no I don't. Honestly, what 10 year old book worm could put those books down and concentrate on their long division just when George and Timmy the dog were about to catch those nasty smugglers? None, right? The thing was impossible.)
• I regret cutting off my long hair when I was 14.
• I regret then thinking that a mullet perm was a good idea. Or any perm.
• I regret wasting so much energy thinking I was 'fat' when I was younger.
• I regret turning down that lucrative modelling contract when I was younger because I thought I was 'fat'.
• Okay, there was no contract. I just made that last point up to see if you were paying attention. As if you would believe that anyway. Did you? Don't answer that.
• I regret making that up, okay?! (Not really, I have to get your attention somehow. Ahem.)
• I regret saving up a sizeable chunk of money when I was young, ostensibly so I could go overseas and then just getting married and putting it into a mortgage and never going, because now that will never happen. An even deeper regretful sigh. SIGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
• I regret perceiving being such a quiet person as extremely negative trait and not seeing it as a possible strength in having a library career.
• I regret the consequence of the above perception. This resulted in me 'burning my bridges' in almost every job I had. I ended up leaving because I believed it was only a matter of time before I was fired. I have since learnt that this is common thing that Aspie's do.
• Sometimes I regret not knowing that I am Aspie sooner than age 40. Unsure if it would have made any difference so I don't spend too much time on this regret.
• I regret turning down Brad Pitt's proposal because then he went and married that bloody pouty Angelina Jolie biatch.
• Okay, you caught me making up stuff again. I admit, it was a bit obvious that time. As if anyone would turn me down for Angelina. Unthinkable, right? Pfffffffffffffft.
• I regret replacing my exercise addiction with a cakie one because now I'm struggling to reverse that.
  
• I regret going to Weight Watchers a few years ago and doing so well, losing weight, only to fall off the wagon spectacularly and regain. See above point.
• I really regret that anxiety has become such a presence in my life and is something I struggle with constantly. Enormous regretful sigh containing all the sorrows of the ages. SIGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Having now confessed to such a long list of regrets I must add that I am (slowly) learning to accept myself and the way things are right now, rather than focusing on 'could have beens' and 'shoulds' and 'what ifs' and all that maudlin stuff that can be quite draining and a waste of energy. After all, I haven't listed any murders, have I? Oh wait. I accidentally murdered my dog. Oops. Long story. I do deeply and profoundly regret that. Sorry Betsy!

Right. That's it. Nothing else. I've never been arrested, been caught naked or done drugs or anything illegal. Damn. I'm actually frightfully boring. Maybe I better go and get arrested just so I can add something interesting to my list. I regret being boring. On second thought, being boring is what I do best. Especially with this blog. You're welcome.

Linking up with Kirsty from My Home Truths for I Must Confess.

   What are your regrets? Or do you have more of an Edith Piaf approach to life and have no regrets?

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