Little virtual Bettina

Ok, I'll admit it. I'm a dirty thief. This wasn't my idea. I have stolen it from Imogen. I'm a bad girl. You can slap my fingers.

But all that aside, would you please take a moment to welcome little virtual Bettina? She's very excited to be here. I know it doesn't really show as she is more the composed type (plus she has this really annoying habit of rolling her head from side to side), but believe me, she is. Excited, I mean. I hope you are too. I think she's pretty cute. But that's just my own objective opinion.

This is for Mikey again. Because I.... kind of.... forgot his birthday.

Yeah, it was Mikey's birthday a couple of days ago. I... sort of... remembered but only... subconsciously. Anyway. Happy birthday my dear! I'm sorry you are 30 now. I'm sure you understand I can't be seen in public with an old man like you anymore. But I still like you. And there are lots of people who are into older men. I'm sure. So don't worry. Hip hip hurraaaay! (I'm so going to pay for this when I turn 30.)

Don't throw up, Mikey

My sarcastic friend Mikey (here in a drunken photo with yours truly) says that it makes him want to throw up when I write one of my "life is so beautiful" posts. Yeah, he's a charming man. Not very subtle. But I love him to bits. Because I know he appreciates me. Apart from when I write sweet stuff. He can't handle it because he wishes his life was so beautiful too. I told him that and he admitted it. We've got a fantastic relationship. One day we might have our own company together somewhere in New York. We might get married too sometime. He's very smart and he's cute too. He's gay, but that doesn't really matter.

Anyway, the reason why I'm going on about this is that I felt like writing one of the "life is so beautiful" posts a moment ago. But then I thought about Mikey and how this would make him throw up and I wasn't so sure anymore. What about if he is in an office with a group of people while he reads it and then throws up all over the desk? That would be really embarrassing for him. Or, even worse, he could be in the middle of a presentation and gaze at my blog while his clients discuss something and then throw up all over his laptop and everyone would be disgusted and walk out and he would not get the project. That would be really bad and I would feel really guilty.

So all I'm going to mention now is that I feel good today. Although life is very busy, but we all know I'm a sucker for being busy. I won't say much more, for Mikey's sake. That's my way of telling him that I love him. That bastard.

The beauty of travelling

I'm back in Brisvegas. After a very long and painful flight. I left Switzerland Sunday night and shortly after getting into Dubai early Monday morning, they decided that it would be a jolly good idea to close down the whole airport and let us wait around for hours. Some Air Bangladesch plane had found it necessary to damage the only runway and subsequently mess up the whole flight schedule for the day. Not that I'm trying to insinuate Air Bangladesch did it purposly to annoy us. But it was still rather inconsiderate of them. If they really need to damage any runways, they could have at least chosen one of their own.

But anyway. I got into Dubai at 6.30am and was meant to fly out at 8.40am. Communciation at the airport was rather poor. Actually, it was virtually non-existant. I had no clue what was going on but couldn't help noticing that my flight was late, and so was every other flight on the departure board. After a while, airport management kindly informed us that there were some delays. Which was nice to know, as we hadn't noticed yet. Apparently we were going to get an update at 10am. Which consisted of me queing at the information desk with a bunch of hyperventilating fellow travellers and finding out that I should come back in a couple of hours. Thank you m'am. Next!

At this stage, the airport had turned into a big pyjama party. Whole families were sleeping in piles on the floor, business men slept sitting on chairs with their mouth open and the most unlikely people befriended each other. It was quite funny. I made friends with three people about my parents' age and met a guy from Nigeria who wanted to marry me. I did realise we all got quite close because we were all in the same boat, but I thought that was going a bit too far.

Throughout the whole day, I was calm as a rock (yeah, rocks ARE calm. Don't be like that). Seriously, I just couldn't be bothered getting pissed off, it's not worth it. I actually thought it was kind of comical, although also very tiring. I never allowed myself to sleep, as I didn't want to miss my call.

They started cancelling flights. After a while, we were told our flight would leave at 4.40pm. Which was a nice idea, only it didn't happen. Please come back later. When they informed us that we were now due to depart at 9pm, I only had a husky laugh left. Sure. Whatever you say. We did end up getting out of there, which I appreciated enormously. At 11.30pm.

I ended up getting into Brisbane at about 10pm (local time) the next day, where Dan was kind enough to pick me up and buy me a beer on the way home. When I got up the next morning to go to work (yes, I am THAT committed. It's sad.), I actually thought for about half an hour that I had slept the whole day and it was 6.30pm instead of 6.30am. My flatmates laughed their ass off when they found out. But I think I bloody have the right to be delirious after all that.

That's Switzerland for you

Letting it all out

It's been an emotional few days back in Switzerland, but I'm glad to be here. The thing is, the emotions that are coming to the surface at the moment are not being created by me being in Switzerland- they are around anyway, but they seem to be coming out a lot easier here where I'm surrounded by old memories. It's a good thing though, I'm glad I'm doing the emotional thing back here in my old hood, with my mum's shoulder to cry on. It feels more natural and I'm letting it all out. It's easier to grieve with other people who are sad also. I think I would feel quite alien if I was in Australia without my family right now and with not a soul who has known my grandmother, going through an isolated grieving process by myself. Maybe the sadness wouldn't even come out as much, as I wouldn't give it any time or place and instead run around chasing my tail and working my ass off. And then, who knows, maybe it would come out in bits and pieces in really inappropriate moments and completely throw me out.

The funeral last Thursday was sad, but also strangely beautiful. My skin was very thin the whole day and I felt like everyone's emotions floated right through me. The sadness gripped me early in the morning and put its heavy arms around me already before breakfast. I was trying to put on some make-up but had to give up because the tears would wash away every attempt of it- so I decided to go with a naked face and a vulnerable heart. It was a good day, with something very gentle and soft about it. All my family was there, including some cousins I had not seen for years. I had written a poem for my grandmother the night before, and my mother read it out in church. I had known before that I wouldn't be in the position to read it myself, but I didn't expect my mother to be able to do it. She was quite amazing. At the funeral of her own mother, she was strong as a rock and being the oldest of the siblings, she naturally assumed the role of the matriarch. She made sure everyone was comfortable, had someone to talk to, enough to eat and a hug if they felt like one. I felt strangely connected that day to all those people who happen to be my extended family, but who I don't see very often. I was glad to be there.