The Consequences of a Good Cake

Oh my goodness – my kitchen is atrocious!  I know I should clean it, but I’m not even sure where to begin.  It’s a disaster area of monumental proportions, and the thought of even entering that war zone is intimidating.  It’s not usually like this – I swear!  But yesterday was Miss Mary’s baby shower and I had offered to make a couple of cakes in her honor.  I knew it was a lot to take on with my current work schedule, but I figured this would give me an opportunity to play around with a couple of cake ideas I have been brainstorming for the wedding.

As per usual, I totally underestimated the level of complication and the amount of time I would need to put said cakes together.  I also overestimated my energy level after working three nights in a row, and overslept just a tad.  So, the hour before her shower became a mad rush to assemble the cakes, leaving little time to even run a brush through my hair, let alone clean up after myself.  So, now I’m left to face a kitchen overrun with pots, pans, and various decorating utensils, and sticky with renegade buttercream.  This is ridiculous!

Apart from the mess, the project turned out well.  I’ve nailed down another cake for my upcoming nuptials, and have come away with some solid ideas for my current obsession of creating the perfect blood orange cake.  The winning cake is a Lemon Cake with Italian Meringue Buttercream and Lemon Curd.  I wish I had taken a photo because it looked awesome!  Even better – it tasted amazing!  The cake was moist and super-lemony and the light and creamy buttercream provided a perfect contrast to the tartness of the curd.  This might end up being my favorite cake of all.  I don’t have time to type up the recipe now, as it’s closing in on my nap time, but I will be sure to post the recipe tomorrow.  Until then, I wish you sweet and lemony dreams!

Good-bye Australia! It's Been Real!!!

Well, this is it… my last night in Australia.  After nearly an entire year of living life as an expat, I’m boarding a plane tomorrow morning and returning to the United States.  My Aussie adventure is officially coming to a close.  During these past couple of weeks, I’ve had mixed feelings about my return.  Part of me is sad; I could have happily stayed here much longer.  But another part of me is excited and happy. Even though Mouse has only been gone a week, I miss him and am ready to live with him full-time again.  I'm ready for life to resume some sort of normalcy.  Besides, California is uncharted territory and I’m ready to tackle this next challenge.  Just because I’m leaving Australia doesn’t mean I’m ready to settle down.  My life will still be full of adventures.  So, please stay tuned.  This isn’t the last you’ll hear from me.

Poor Mouse

Poor Mouse.  I was so excited when he agreed to come to Brisbane for Christmas.  It was going to be our first Aussie Christmas; our first winter holidays in the southern hemisphere.  After a lifetime of spending December swathed in cold and snow, I looked forward to such unfamiliar territory.  He was hesitant, thanks to the exorbitant tickets prices, but I persisted.   I sold him my fantasy of us lazing about the beach, drinking cold beer, and frolicking in the sand and waves.  I talked about nothing but the imminent sunshine and surf.  Finally, he caved, and I started planning.  I booked a hotel room on the Gold Coast and a campsite in Byron Bay. (At $64 per day, no less!)  After tiring of the beach, we were meant to head inland for a little mountain hiking, wine tasting, and more camping.  Of course, none of that happened.  Instead, we got rain, rain, and more rain. 

Like I said… Poor Mouse.  He flew halfway across the world to get stuck in three continuous weeks of rain.  Sure, we had the hotel room on the Gold Coast, but were stuck inside it the entire time; not exactly the sand-laden days we had dreamt of.  Our campsite in Byron was flooded.  And heading inland was out of the question; that entire region had been cut off from civilization, thanks to the heavy rains.  Instead, we spent most of our holidays stuck in the apartment, watching bad television.  And then there were the floods…  Needless to say, this certainly wasn’t the tropical paradise retreat I imagined it to be.  Mouse finally left this Wednesday, nearly moldy from all the rain, and with a bad taste of Australia in his mouth.  After all of this disappointment, I may just owe him a weekend in Mexico.

I Survived the Queensland Flood of 2011

As predicted, the Brisbane River continued to rise Wednesday night and into the wee hours of Thursday morning.  By the time it peaked around 3 am, three-quarters of Brisbane was underwater, with more than 26,000 homes and 5,000 businesses flooded.  Luckily, my friend and I managed to remain dry.  Her house in East Brisbane sits high on a hill, so it maintained a safe distance from the flood waters that engulfed houses only a couple of streets away.  We were incredibly lucky.  So many others were not.  Officials are now calling this the largest, most destructive natural disaster in Queensland history.  The images on on the news are heartbreaking.  So many people have lost absolutely everything.  As I toured the city yesterday, I was astounded by extent of the damage.  The Central Business District was a ghost town.  The Eagle Street Pier, a usually bustling restaurant district, was completely submerged.  The football stadium has become a giant swimming pool.  My old neighborhood is in ruins; our local shopping center flooded even before the river peaked.  My apartment building's underground parking lot is filled with dirty flood water.  Parts of the River Walk, where I went on my daily runs,  are totally flooded out; other parts broke off all together and were swept away towards the ocean.  I couldn't even get back to New Farm Park, as the flood waters were still too high.  And other neighborhoods were hit even harder.  In Rosalie, I saw people kayaking down what used to be a street so they could check on their house.  It was the same story in other neighborhoods, too.  I've never seen anything like it.  What a way to spend my last days here in Australia!!!

Flood Update - I'm Still Dry

Today, of all days, was sunny.  It was ironic, really.  We haven't seen the sun in weeks, and today, when the flooding is beginning to take its toll, it came out in full force.  I got Mouse to the airport before the roads were closed.  We said our good-byes, thinking that this whole "flood thing" was being blown out of porportion.  We were SOOOO wrong.  By the time I made it back to the apartment, my neighborhood was akin to a war zone.  Everyone was preparing for the impending flood.  People had moving trucks.  Helicopters were flying overhead.  Officials were making announcements on bullhorns.  Luckily, my lease was up today.  I cleared my apartment and got out just in time.  By this afternoon, the water level rose to chest-deep levels.  I've taken refuge on higher ground with a friend, so I'm safe, but can barely believe the pictures I'm seeing.  This entire city is becoming submerged.  It's astounding.  The devestation is incredible.  I hope my neighbors are OK.  The river isn't expected to peak until the wee hours of the morning, so we will be on guard until then.  For now, all we can do is sit and wait.  This certainly isn't what I expected from the final days of my Aussie adventure, but there isn't much I can do about it now.  I will continue to keep everyone as up-to-date as possible.

We're Still OK

OK. So maybe I was a little cocky before.  I didn't really think the flooding would hit Brisbane.  I saw all of the devestation in the rural, outlying areas and felt bad for everyone, but none of it really hit home.  But today, we went into the grocery store for some paper towels and entered into sheer madness.  The shelves were swept clean and people had a crazed look about them.  When we asked what they were frantic about, they answered that the floods were coming.  And they are.  Buildings have sandbags around them.  Everyone is stocked up.  We're waiting for the floods.  We're OK for now.  The river is holding steady.  Tomorrow may be a different story, though.  Luckily, I live on the second level of an apartment building.  It it gets too bad, I will head down to the Gold Coast with a friend.  So, please don't worry.  We're still OK.  I will continue to provide updates as I'm able.

This Old Apartment

Little by little, piece by piece, all of our Australian possessions are being sold off.  First, it was the car.  Then, the washing machine.  Yesterday, the TV.  Today, the refrigerator and dining room table will be gone.  I know they’re just things, but they are the things we collected to make this little apartment our home.  Now, they are slowly disappearing and our apartment is becoming no more than an empty shell.  It doesn’t seem to bother Mouse one bit, but maybe that’s because he never really considered this place his home.  I did.  So, one appliance and piece of furniture at a time, I’m saying good-bye to my life out here.

Seeing all of this stuff go, and knowing my time here is coming to a close, is incredibly sad.  Living and working in Australia was a life-long dream.  I worked hard to get here, secure a job, and obtain my visa.  For so long, this was my main career objective and goal.  Knowing that it’s nearly over leaves me feeling somewhat lost.  Now what am I supposed to do?  I guess it’s time to figure out some new goals.

On Wednesday, we turn in the keys to the apartment and Mouse flies back to the States.  I have one more brief adventure, a girls’ trip to Melbourne, but I’ll be on a plane headed to Los Angeles a week later.  I really cannot believe this is almost over.  I’m going to miss this place so much.  (Except for the rain, of course.  I’ve seen enough rain to last me a lifetime.)

No End in Sight

Another day of rain.  Another day of being stuck in our apartment.  And just when I think it cannot possibly rain any harder, it does.  Today, I saw the skies open up and dump water onto the city with frightening ferocity.  I’ve heard of small flash floods scattered throughout Brisbane and the odd street closure, but I still haven’t seen any flooding in our neighborhood.  So, for now, we can count ourselves among the lucky.  Another system is moving in, though, and this rain isn’t predicted to end any time soon, so who knows what tomorrow will bring?  All I know is that we’re not going to dry out anytime soon.

Rainy Days Really Do Get Me Down

I’m becoming incredibly anxious and antsy.  I can’t sit still.  I’ve even started picking on Mouse out of sheer boredom.  I feel like a prisoner, thanks to this rain, which just keeps coming and coming.  I’m not kidding; it never stops.  It won’t be long before I start pacing the length of my tiny apartment.  I’m slowly being driven to insanity by this constant deluge.  I don’t do well in confined spaces and am even worse when forced into laziness.  One day of veging on the couch and watching movies is one thing.  Doing the same day in and day out is more than I can handle. I’m going batty.  I try to remind myself that we’re the lucky ones.  We’ve, thus far, avoided the flooding devastating cities around us, but even that knowledge doesn’t do much to quell my crazies.  I wish the sun would come out, even if just for a little while.  I wish the rain would stop holding me prisoner in my own apartment.  I wish there were something for me to do, besides whine and complain, because, after all, we are still safe and sound.  I should be counting my blessings.

Status Update - We're OK

My phone rang unexpectedly yesterday morning.  It was my mom.  As soon as she heard my voice, she broke down into tears, which took me completely by surprise.  I seriously had no idea what could be causing her so much concern.  As soon as she caught her breath, she explained that the American news was placing Brisbane as the epicenter for the flooding on Australia's southeast coast.  I reassured her we were quite safe and nowhere near the flooding, which is the absolute truth.  We've been lucky.  Brisbane isn't underwater.  It hasn't experienced any of the flooding that has been devastating cities around us.  We, too, see the images on the news and are astounded by the extent of the damage.  Hundreds of thousands of people have been forced out of their homes and into emergency shelters.  Entire towns are completely submerged, and the water levels haven't even peaked yet.  It's scary stuff.  But it's all happening hundreds of kilometers north, south, and west of us.  We may be stuck in never-ending rainstorms, but we've managed to stay relatively dry.  So, don't worry about us.  We're OK.

Going the Distance

Four months is a long time to be apart.  Things change.  People change.  So much can happen in four months.  Even though we talked every day, sometimes even two or three times a day, we were living separate lives.  I wasn’t overly worried about it, but it did bring me pause on a few occasions.  What if we changed too much while we were apart?  What if he arrived on Christmas Day a different man?  What if our relationship had shifted in opposite directions?  Maybe that’s why I was a bundle of nerves on the days before his arrival and on my way to pick him at the airport.  Yes, I was excited to see him, but I was also scared.  The unknown is always so intimidating.

Luckily, he didn’t change and neither did we.  Sometimes that can be a bad thing, but for now it’s good.  He’s still the man I’ve grown to love.  He still has that impish grin and goofy demeanor.  He still makes my stomach flutter when he walks in a room.  He still looks at me in that way which lets me know I’m the only one he wants.  More importantly, we’re still us.  We may still get in the same silly arguments, but we also still laugh at the same ludicrous things.  We still drive each other insane, but love each other even more.  Even though we were separated by thousands of miles and were apart for way too long, we managed to hold onto whatever it is that makes us, well, us.  And that, my friends, has been the best Christmas present of all.

Counting My Blessings

I am feeling like the world’s biggest brat today.  I’ve been whining, complaining, and feeling just plain sorry for myself because of the massive amounts of rain we’ve been dealing with for the last month.  Sure, the constant wetness is depressing and we had to forgo our beach days and camping trips, but this is nothing compared to what more than 200,000 other Queensland residents are dealing with.  We are the lucky ones.  We are safe and haven’t been affected by the flooding that seems to be occurring everywhere around us.  More than 20 towns have either been flooded or cut off from the rest of civilization due to the flooding.  Cars have been swept away as roads transformed into rushing rivers.  People have lost their homes, their farms, and their livelihoods.  They have lost everything; their lives have been turned upside down.  Some towns are being evacuated, while others are hoping supplies can be airlifted in.  One government official described the disaster as having reached “Biblical proportions.”  After seeing the shocking images on the news, I can believe it.  The damage is astounding.  So, while I was worried about my perfect Christmas plans being thwarted, others were dealing with complete and utter devastation.  Just thinking about their losses helps put things into perspective.  Missing out on a couple of days of sunbathing is nothing in comparison.  Now can you see why I’m feeling so bratty?

Rained Out

I realize I’ve been complaining about the weather quite a bit lately, and apologize for my obsession, but this non-stop rain is becoming an all-consuming fact of my life.  It never seems to stop.  Sure, it may decrease from the ever-popular monsoonal downpours to a dreary drizzle, but the wetness never actually ceases.  In fact, this is now the wettest December recorded in Brisbane in 150 years, with only seven days of respite this entire month.  The other twenty have been nothing but rain, bringing the monthly total rainfall to 17.5 inches, which is just absolutely insane.  So, now you can possibly understand why this is all I can think about and write about.  Its constant presence is taking over my very being and beginning to dominate every facet of my life.

I could deal with the rain while I was still working.  Yes – it was annoying, but I could focus on my work.  But now I’m done working.  I’m on holidays and Mouse is here with me.  We’re supposed to be spending our time camping, lying on the beach, and frolicking in the water.  No such luck.  The torrential downpours are thwarting all of my carefully made plans.  Our Gold Coast Christmas was ruined; instead of soaking up the sun on Broadbeach, we ended up holed up in our hotel room, watching bad television.  And we had to forget about camping in Byron Bay; we drove past our campground to find that it was totally flooded.  Agh!  So now we’re stuck in my little apartment, wishing for better weather, and wasting away our last days in Australia.  How incredibly frustrating!  This was not how I imagined our last days “Down Under” to play out…

Merry Christmas to Me!

Christmas Day is finally here.  I don’t think I’ve anticipated the arrival of Christmas morning this much since I was six and desperately yearning for Santa to bring me a Cabbage Patch Kid.  Last night, I felt like that kid again, barely able to sleep, tossing and turning, waiting for the sun to peak over the horizon and the day to begin.  But this Christmas, my present isn’t an object, it’s my Mouse.  After months of being separated, I finally get to pick him up at the airport.  After countless days of wanting, wishing, longing, and missing, we’re about to be reunited.  I can already see his smile and hear his voice.  All of the stress and anxiety I have been feeling is gone and has been replaced with the calm of pure happiness.  My wait is over.  My heart is complete again.  I couldn’t ask for a better gift.

Great Expectations

It’s Christmas Eve and I am a big ball of nerves.  I know I’m not the first person to stress during the holidays, but this is a first for me.  Usually, I don’t have much to worry about come Christmas.  But tonight, I’m wound so tight that I feel like snapping at any moment.  I’m anxious and skittish.  I’ve been running myself ragged, trying to prepare for Mouse’s arrival, and am exhausted, but I can’t seem to make myself stop.  It’s been nearly four months since we’ve seen each other and I’ve become obsessed with making everything perfect.  I want the food to be perfect.  I want the weather to be perfect.  I want my hair to be perfect.  I want our airport interlude to be perfect.  I want the entirety of his trip to be perfect.  (Do you see what I mean?  I am a woman on a mission to perfection.)  I’ve spent this entire week readying for his arrival.  I’ve been planning and prepping meals, packing our gear to head down the coast, and primping and preening myself.  I want everything to be just so.  The problem is, I’ve built it all up so much in my head that reality will never be able to compare.  And, let’s be honest, nothing ever goes as planned.  There is absolutely no chance that our holidays will reach the desired peak of perfection I’ve dreamt up for us.  So, I’m going to do my best to let go and relax.  I’m going to pour myself a glass of wine, watch a sappy chick flick, and attempt to unwind.  It doesn’t do me any good to stress about the impossible, after all.

Two Days and Counting...

It’s the twenty-third of December, which means Christmas is only two days away.  It just doesn’t seem possible.  I’m seriously having a hard time believing it.  Sure, I can look at the calendar and see that Christmas is nearly here.  And the usual commercial cues are everywhere, announcing its impending arrival.  Houses and yards are festively decorated.  The shops are displaying all of their holiday wares.  The shopping mall will be open for the next thirty-three hours, hoping for hoards of last-minute shoppers.  We even had our work Christmas party last weekend, for heaven's sake.  No matter.  It still doesn’t feel like Christmas to me.

I know the weather is a major factor in my state of denial.  Lately, it vacillates between sweltering tropical heat with suffocating humidity and torrential monsoonal downpours, neither of which seem very Christmas-y to my North American self.  It’s much too hot to bake anything, so Christmas cookies are out.  My apartment isn’t decorated, either.  There is no tree to light up my living room or presents underneath.  (Why bother?  We’re headed down the coast.)  I haven’t even gone Christmas shopping this year.  (We’re giving each other the gift of international travel.)  

So, with Mouse not arriving until Christmas morning, I am simply unable to get into the holiday spirit.  It still seems too distant and abstract for me to feel any sort of excitement.  I’m sure this state of blasé “bah-humbug-ness” will transform into sheer holiday bliss as soon as I see his face.  I’m confident the spirit of the season will hit me at that moment.  But, until then, I have to keep reminding myself that the holidays are here…even if it doesn’t seem possible.

I Don't Need A Pity Party

People’s reactions are quite amusing whenever they learn Mouse has been gone since September.  Their jaws drop and eyes pop.  They usually let out some small exclamation of surprise and/or pity.  And they always look incredibly sorry for me.  I can see it in their eyes.  They have this look that says, “Oh, you poor dear.  You’re relationship is over and you don’t even know it.  You must be in denial.”  They might try to mask their thoughts and offer words of support, but it’s always there, just below the surface.  I know what they’re thinking.  I can feel the pity oozing from their pores.  In some ways, I understand.  Our current living arrangement is anything but normal.  Most relationships couldn’t withstand being separated by thousands of miles for an extended period of time.  But, then again, we’re not most people.

We didn’t plan for it to happen this way.  This was supposed to be our adventure, not mine alone.  But life doesn’t always go as planned.  We couldn’t have guessed that he would break his ankle, require a lengthy hospital stay, and an even more lengthy rehabilitation.  But this is exactly what happened and we were forced to deal with the repercussions.  His injury changed everything, so I understood when he was ready to go home.  Thankfully, he also understood that I was not.

It isn’t always been easy being so far apart.  After so many years of living together, and being such an integral part of each other’s everyday lives, his absence can be hard to swallow.  There are days when I miss him so much I feel like my heart is being wrenched from my chest.  There are days when I’m so lonely I’m sure the aching will never dissipate.  But those days are few and far between.  Most of the time, life is good.  I’ve come to appreciate this time to myself and can recognize the benefits of doing some of this on my own.  It’s given me time to reconnect with who I am.  It’s given me time to re-establish my individuality.  And, most importantly, it’s allowed me to forge friendships that I wouldn’t have otherwise.  So, while none of this was planned, it turned out to be a good thing.  I don’t need anyone’s pity.

He’ll be back in just a few days and I’m incredibly excited to see him.  I miss his smile.  I miss his energy.  I have more adventures planned for us and can’t wait to get exploring.  And, even though I fully appreciate these past few months, he is my heart and home, so I can’t wait to share more of my life with him.

Readjustment

It’s strange, but it doesn’t feel like I’m really done with my Aussie nursing experience.  It just doesn’t seem possible.  I know I’ve turned in my badge and said my good-byes, but it still hasn’t sunk in that I don’t work there any more.  Rather, it feels as though I’m on my days off and will be expected back soon.  I’ve woken with a start every day, checking the time, ready to hop out of bed; until the sleep-induced cobwebs clear and I remember that I’m not late.  Right now, there’s no such thing as late.  (A difficult concept to embrace.)  I nearly had a mini panic attack yesterday, when my phone rang in the wee hours of the morning.  For a split second, I assumed it would be my charge nurse, inquiring as to whether or not I was planning to work my shift.  Of course it wasn’t, but my heart didn’t stop pounding until I heard my friend’s voice on the other line.  It’s funny how a little bit of social conditioning can so easily and deeply penetrate one’s psyche.  I wonder how long it will take me to get out of the habit of feeling like I should be at the hospital.  I wonder how long it will take for my body to readjust.  I imagine when Mouse arrives and my life begins to feel like less of a limbo, it will all hit me.  Until then, I just have to relax and embrace my newly-attained unemployment.

Social Hypocrisy

I am such a hypocrite.  I don’t mean to be, but I can’t help it.  I went out all weekend – a house party on Friday and our ward Christmas party last night – but I don’t like that he’s out tonight.  I know I cannot expect him to stay in when I don’t, but I wish he would.  I wish he weren’t out with his new friends, whooping it up.  I wish he were sitting at home, wallowing in a state of misery, born of missing me.  (A little narcissistic, yes?)

In all honesty, I don’t really have a problem with him being out; it’s just that I am feeling a little miffed.  It may only be a little cocktail party, but he’s there and I’m not, so I’m feeling left out.  It’s silly.  I chose to be here and am happily doing my own thing, but I hate the idea of him having fun without me.  I hate the idea of him meeting new people, creating a new life, and developing a new social circle without me alongside for the ride.  We’ve been together so long now that I had begun to take such things for granted.  But now that were thousands of miles away from each other, it’s all changed.  Now it irks me that I’m not able to do these things with him.  It makes me grumpy knowing he’s laughing and chatting with people I’ve never even met.  Never mind that’s exactly what I was doing all weekend.  Like I said…  I’m a hypocrite.

Apparently, Summer = Snakes

“Summer has arrived, and that means the snakes are running rampant.”

I had been innocently preparing my evening meal the other night, when this disturbing news was broadcast as a sound bite to promote one of the local news programs.  I didn’t want to believe what I was hearing, but there it was, unmistakably blasting from my television during prime time.  I hoped the anchorman was joking and a punch line would quickly follow.  No such luck.  The joke never came.  Nothing.  He didn’t even smile, so I can only assume he was dead serious.  He continued, providing even more disturbing news.

“Australia is home to thirteen of the world’s deadliest snakes.  Which one can you expect to encounter in your backyard?”

Great.  That’s just what a girl who is deathly afraid of snakes needs to hear.  Not only are the snakes running rampant, but also they’re also deadly.  That’s wonderful.  I know Australia is filled to the brim with the creepy devils.  I had just fooled myself into thinking they stayed far, far away from the city.  (Isn’t that why I pay such steep rent?)

Maybe I should have stayed tuned to learn a little more, but I had heard all the information I need.  Now, I see snakes everywhere.  I see them lurking in the shadows.  I look for them hiding in trees.  And I’m oddly leery of any sticks lying on the ground, half-convinced they might spring up and bite me.

So far, I’ve been lucky.  I haven’t been bitten and haven’t even encountered a live snake.  My workmate wasn’t so lucky, though.  She recently came into work all flustered because an eight-foot python had taken up residence on her front porch the previous night.  Luckily, her neighbor called the snake-removal people, and they were able to catch it, but I can only imagine how frightening that scenario must have been.  I don’t know what my reaction would be if I looked out my window to see a snake that size peering in.  I imagine it would involve some form of uncontrolled panic attack and little bit of pants-peeing.

Realistically, I understand snakes are a part of living in Australia, especially in Queensland.  But the rational side of me cannot make up for my deep-seeded fears.  So, I pray that as summer ensues, my life will continue to be as snake-free as it has been for the past several months.  Because, in my book, no snake is a good snake.