a long Les Mis ramble

Just saw Les Misérables. Want to write my thoughts down without reading reviews (and then go and read reviews and see whether I agree). I've managed to stay away from most of the reviews, except for people saying that they loved it or otherwise on Facebook. Sometimes I don't mind review spoilers, but for this one I wanted to make up my own mind.

So, some background...


Musical theatre is one of those weird things that you can get fully absorbed in when you're young without really understanding anything about the story. All you care about are the big, standout songs and the romance of it all. For some adults, that's also as far as their appreciation goes (if that wasn't the case there would be fewer singers with show off albums featuring Andrew Lloyd Webber songs).

As a teenager, I loved Les Mis.  I had had passing passions for embarrassing boy bands and the like, but with Les Mis, it was love. The drama! The passion! The music! The endless opportunities to pretend to be a lovelorn waif in front of the mirror while blasting the Complete Symphonic Recording (no abridged highlights for me)!

From the dog-earedness, I obviously had a good crack at it

I even tried to read Victor Hugo's book. I tried. It was long, okay? Blah blah blah, political stuff, blah...It only really starts to get interesting when we meet Cosette in the inn, and even after that I skipped a lot. (I just found a card that was inside my copy of the book - I was in year 8 when I tried to read it...I should probably give it another go!)

As far as the musical went, Act 2 was where it was at. Jean Valjean...yeah okay, he was important. But Fantine? Boring. I dreamed a dream? Bor. Ing. I guess Lovely ladies was kind of a fun song...but  I realised that, being about prostitution and all, I probably shouldn't sing it too loudly. But Act 2 with the Cosette-Marius-Eponine love triangle and the angst and the dying in the rain, that was where it was at!

Ah. Adolescence. What a deep, well-rounded, thoughtful human being I was.

In preparation for the film (yes, I needed to prepare, so what?), I listened to the complete soundtrack a couple of times. I hadn't listened to it for a long, long time and a lot of what I loved came flooding back. But what surprised me was enjoying it on a whole new level. Relishing the themes of grace and redemption, understanding Fantine's story and feeling her sorrow, being interested in the stories of Valjean and Javert and - shock! - finding the love triangle stuff a bit tiresome.

It was like I had grown or something.

And now, finally, onto the movie...

I was very excited to sit in the cinema tonight (with over 100 other people who had all bought tickets to raise money for Anglicare - awesome!), even if the lady next to me kept making obvious remarks (such as "oh that was silly" when Valjean steals the church's silver), and even if a kid down the front said, horrified "what? It's a musical?" as it started.

I really enjoyed it. The production design is very well done. The casting is mostly good -  even if some of the actors' singing voices weren't super powerful, they made up for it by, well, acting. Yes, Anne Hathaway is incredible; she manages to hit the right mix of vulnerability and tenacity, but her slide into despair is just heartbreaking.

Act 1 was, by far, the strongest part of the film. I think up until we meet the Thenardiers it is absolutely spot on. And then...then it started to feel a bit like they realised it was a really long show so they needed to start trimming lines and verses of songs here and there (I guess that's where it's a downside to know the score so well). The Thenardiers were pretty disappointing and flat, surprising given that Helena Bonham Carter and Sacha Baron Cohen are some pretty big personalities.

Act 2 felt like a bit of a mushy mess - and that was the bit I had loved the most as a teenager! Eponine - my dearly beloved Eponine - felt like more of an afterthought. The little phrases and interactions between her and Marius that show their friendship were cut, so when they sang A little fall of rain together, the intimacy was kind of weird.

It picked up again by Act 3, with the battles on the barricades and it all wrapping up. Hugh Jackman is pretty wonderful towards the end.

Overall, though, I thought it was great. Not perfect, but one director's vision of the musical.* I cried a lot. I want to see it again.

The themes of grace and redemption, the idea of a life won for God and a strong faith in him were clear. Our friend K, who recently became a Christian, came to see the movie with us and she said how she couldn't understand how anyone who wasn't a Christian could enjoy it. I told her how much I'd loved it as a teenager, but I didn't really get it (even though I thought I did), and that a lot of people probably just enjoyed the music without really thinking about it. Maybe people like the love story. Maybe people just like epic sagas. Maybe people can look at it at a distance and say "well, it was set in the 19th century, people were more religious back then" and think it has nothing to do with them.

But ultimately, it's about how none of us on earth are happy. We are all restless, all searching, all longing for things to be different. We are all longing for that day where there will be no more injustice, no more crying. We all want to be loved. We all want to be free. I think that's why the show has gone on so long and resonated with so many people; we all feel these things.

But so many are like Javert, who cannot stand grace being shown to him and would rather die than be in debt to another. So many think they can bring about heaven on earth through success, money, social change. But it is only through accepting God's gift of love and grace - his son Jesus dying to pay our debt - that we will ever join him in his kingdom, that place where chains will never bind us.





* It occurred to me it's possibly like comparing the BBC Pride and Prejudice  to the 2005 Joe Wright version...both, in my opinion, excellent adaptations, but both very different.

tired now

I often get to this time of day and think I should blog, but am so tired I can't think of how to write in an engaging and interesting way. But hey. I opened the wordpress window and started typing, and that's all it takes, really, isn't it? Even if it isn't very interesting.

The Christmas period, with all its busyness, food, carols, reflection, family, friends, and church things has finally passed. Though I am exhausted now, I did enjoy Christmas this year. The church events were really happy, encouraging occasions. I think people who were visitors to the church got a clear gospel presentation and were prompted to think about Jesus.

I got to be Chomp again on Christmas Day. People laughed in the right places too, which is gratifying.

Christmas Day was cool and stormy and perfect weather for turkey wellington, which was rather delicious. Mum was annoyed that it didn't look the same as the photo; my brother said "it wouldn't be Christmas if mum wasn't apologising for the food, even though we're enjoying it."

Then on Boxing Day we had more turkey wellington, ham, trifle, pudding, salads, cheese bread and other yummy things when various friends and family members came round to hang out in our backyard. I love having people over, even if I don't sit and talk to them much. I just like having people at my place.

There were reports of craziness in the Boxing Day sales as usual, and today there were reports of traffic jams up and down the coast as usual. The reporters write about these things like they are outrageous scandals. I wonder what would happen if, one year, they just didn't write those stories. The world would probably go on.

I don't understand the thing of queueing up for The Sales. We went to the shops this afternoon, had no trouble parking, wandered around at a leisurely pace, found the things we wanted in our sizes with hefty discounts, and came home again with nary a pulse rate quickened. It doesn't seem that the discounts on anything are large enough to warrant queueing for hours, shoving your way into the shop with hundreds of other people at your heels, grabbing whatever you can find, pawing over the merchandise so that someone else doesn't get to it first. I could understand if, say, the shops were giving away free televisions or something, but even so I'd have to be guaranteed to get one to make it worth the effort.

Now do you see why I don't often blog when I'm this tired?

I may just sleep right here.

You guys. I am so tired. I can't even...

Driving to work is quite dangerous at this level of tiredness, because I'm still okay to keep plodding along, but not really as alert as I ought to be when behind the wheel. And then I start to think about how bad it would be if everyone in the cars around me was as tired as me, and then I start to worry I'll crash but not enough to pull over and then I'm at work so I go inside and drink lots of coffee.

But I got through the mega week that was last week! And now, suddenly, it's only a week until Christmas. And only two weeks until it's a whole other year!

That's just crazy town.

mi casa

It's been a week of home improvements, of the expensive kind. But it's been largely successful, so I feel some spruiking is required.

A bit of background - our house used to be one whole dwelling, which was used as an accounting firm/home/teddy bear making facility (don't ask). There was ducted air conditioning, an alarm system, a quite extensive sprinkler network throughout the big landscaped backyard and front yard, and backyard lights. When they couldn't sell the whole dwelling, they decided to turn it into semis and just put a line down the middle. So they blocked off the air conditioning, cut off the alarm, and took all the vital operating bits (such as pumps and connectors) to the sprinkler system. Andy's side (926) has the controls for air con and the alarm. Our side just has the dud vents and blinky alarm detectors that go on and off but do nothing.

We decided to get air conditioning installed and it seemed to make sense to use the vents/ducts that were already there. It took a while to organise the money to do it, but this week I got the chaps from J&J Metro West (whose office is right next to ours in Rydalmere) to come and install a new Daikin system (they ended up replacing the ducting but used the existing vents). They were really friendly, professional and well-priced - I'd happily recommend them to anyone.

Of course, since we had the system installed, the weather has been rather cool (much like how when you get the car washed it invariably rains). So I feel that has been our service to all of you living in Sydney: installing air conditioning has brought a cool change, rendering the air conditioning unnecessary. You are welcome.

I also had someone from Magnetite come in and quote to retrofit double glazing in the bedrooms, to cut the traffic noise down. But it's unlikely to be installed til January, so I will let you know how that goes (I am SO looking forward to that happening).



The last thing I had done was to do an all-out offensive strike against the ant armies that are encroaching upon our domicile. The place had been fumigated before we moved in, and we even had the dude come back under warranty because there seemed to be more ants than were normal, but he wasn't really much help.

Mum tried spraying, laying ant baits, putting down ant rid, ant sand, magic ant chalk (given to her by someone at work and, as it turns out, illegal in the US)...anything with ant in the title really. But after an initial cull, they would just cut a path around whatever measures we had taken, scoffing and laughing at our puny attempts. She has been getting increasingly stressed about the ants, their cunning and their evil. I had to point out that ants didn't really operate under any sort of moral compass, but she didn't want to have a bar of it.

The day they invaded the kitchen cupboards was the last straw. Although they did not breach our impenetrable Tupperware line of defence, they were everywhere and it was kind of gross, really. 

I didn't really know who to call, so I just did some googling. Nationwide Pest Control's site impressed me, mainly because it was well-laid out, provided the relevant information (ie, what the service entailed and how much it would cost), and allowed me to book online. I got a call the next day confirming the appointment, and a call on the day to say the guy was on his way.

He was friendly, confident, took care of business and seemed to know his stuff. I made a point of telling him what I thought about the website, because I think positive feedback ought to be passed on, and he seemed very proud of the whole business. He reckons after a month of the ants carrying poison back to the nest and gradually dying out, we should be relatively ant free for at least a year, if not longer. Hurrah!

When I mentioned mum's ant paranoia to the pest controller he said "yeah I'm pretty sure we're not at the top of the food chain, we just exist to serve the ants." Which of course reminds me of this:

http://youtu.be/eKbFb6TPVEA

But not for another year at least! Mwa ha ha!

drip...drip...

I do think the decreasing of my blogging coincides with my uptake of Twitter. I used to actually blog about the minutiae that I tweet about now...so I guess I didn't stop saying things, I just changed the channel I chose to communicate with (that was quite deft alliteration there, did you notice that?).

But as a result my writing is now in little drips rather than torrents of words.

I have said it before, too, but my embracing of technology has also led to a decline in my writing generally. I used to carry around notebooks and pens everywhere and take any opportunity to write about ideas, things around me, people who looked interesting on the bus, that sort of thing. Lachy suggested I try and record similar thoughts as I drive, but it's kind of harder to get into the right creative mode while being assaulted on all sides by Sydney traffic. Unless I wanted to write about Sydney traffic. Which I don't, really.

Though I did have an idea for a book the other day while I was getting a haircut. And I made some notes and still haven't completely gone off the idea, so I should nurture that little seed. There is also the series on body image and the Christian that I keep meaning to think about, research and write (rather than rants off the top of my head when I'm feeling fat).

Hmm. So there is stuff in that head of mine.

Alright, gentle readers (at this point it might just be mum and Barbara, but I fear even they may have given up on me), I will endeavour to keep to a more frequent blogging schedule. Even if there's not that much to say, writing regularly and thinking about what to write has to be a good thing.

nooooo

Mum's giving up on checking my blog. You might wonder why she checks it so frequently, given that we live together and talk all the time. But clearly she thinks I have something to say that I am Keeping From Her.

I don't really, but I should think of more things to say.

12w...buh.

So the problem is I don't like being told what to do. (None of us do, right? That's our whole problem...but that's the topic for another post)

I briefly forgot this. I thought that it would be great to have someone decide what I ate and tell me what exercise to do and how to change my mindset. Turns out I didn't like it so much.

I got so frustrated and sick of the 12WBT program that I ended up just not doing it...which isn't great a) because I'd paid for it and b) because I was in danger of undoing the work I had done. It's a great program, honestly, and I don't deny that it gets results. It does. I just didn't respond so well to the whole culture of it.

But some good realisations and behaviour changes have come of it.

• I've stopped binge snacking, like I was doing.


• I have a better understanding of the amount of food I actually need to function, and am aware of how much I ate that was completely unnecessary.


• I understand that my enjoyment of food and cooking for people is a big part of my life, and that is often not possible when on a program like this. Social eating is a big part of how I build relationship with people, and I don't want to forego that by being stingy about food or avoiding social eating situations altogether.


• I enjoy exercising to feel good.


• I don't enjoy exercising to the point of feeling unwell.


• The gym can be fun.


• I don't mind Michelle Bridges as a trainer on her exercise DVDs - that is definitely her forte, and her DVDs are really good - but I don't much like seeing and hearing her everywhere.


• But I do like her fitness clothing from Big W.


• I like being fitter.


• My identity and self worth does not depend on my weight, what I eat, or whether I exercise.

It hasn't been at all a waste. But I recognise I need to do what works for me. So until the end of the 12WBT, I'm going to keep referring to the exercise plans. But I have gone back to counting points and Weight Watchers, as that style of program suits me better.

The report of my blog's death was an exaggeration

Mum: "Have you shut your blog down?"

Me: "...no...is it not there?"

Mum: "It's there but it's not...doing anything."

Perhaps I should post more.

Malaysia 2012

Came back from a short trip to Malaysia with Lachy last night - we were only there for a week, but it was a good length of time to catch up with family, sloth around, shop, eat and sloth some more.

The main reason for going was to meet my new half-siblings, Celine and Matthew, and to celebrate their birth at their one month full moon celebration. The front courtyard of dad and Janice's place was turned into an outdoor restaurant for the night, with a big marquee (complete with fans and lights), many chairs and tables, and some amazing catering! I was impressed that we had our own satay stall and ais kacang maker.

The twins didn't do much of course, but just allowed themselves to be admired.

Here are some pictures of the week...mostly food related!

 

Detriment

I went to a rehearsal last night for a drama I'm in at the Equip women conference this weekend (people refer to these things as a 'drama' but that gives it more weight than I feel it has...it's just a skit to me, a performed blip to get you thinking). There are four of us in the drama, all showing women in various stages of waiting, or talking about what they are waiting for.

Rehearsal was after a long day at work, in a place I'd never been before in the western suburbs. I had never met the other actors, and we only got the script last weekend because of various problems with volunteers having to pull out (one of whom was the writer/director, so the whole thing had to be rewritten by one of the actors). Actually I was a ring-in because an actor had pulled out, and we even had another actor pull out this week, so the girl replacing her was even newer than me. So the whole thing has only come together by the grace of God, really!

I was already feeling low because of tiredness and being in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people. Then I realised that they are all active actors/drama people. And that really threw me for a loop. One is a working actor, one is a drama teacher and one has just graduated from drama school. And then there's me, who hasn't properly acted for at least 10 years.

I don't know why this slammed me so much. I sat there, watching the girls do their monologues and thinking "they've actually put effort into this, they actually know what they're doing...they're going to regret asking me to do this...", and dreaded my turn to perform. It was like being at a cold audition, suddenly jumping up in front of strangers and doing a monologue at them. I apologised my way through the rehearsal, and rushed my lines, and was touchy when given direction...I could see myself behaving this way, saw that it really wasn't helping anything and couldn't understand it. I told myself to calm down, and tried to be gracious and thank the scriptwriter and take on suggestions and slow down.

It came together well, and everyone was positive and reassuring. But all the way home I just felt stupid and sad and fraudulent. And the little positive voice, although barely audible amongst the waves of negativity, kept saying "you're fine! Don't worry! It's just a little skit, and your bit's only two minutes long! It's okay! God will use you!"

So I tried to reflect on why I had felt so bad. Two main things, aside from the tiredness.

1. My part is that of a pregnant woman, who can't wait for her baby to arrive because "you have no idea how long I've waited for this". I was bemused that I was cast in this role when the script went around, and was basically told, well, we're all single, childless women, so someone has to do it, you'll be fine.

I realised last night I didn't really want to get into the mindset I needed to do a convincing job (ie, not just a cariacature); that it felt like if I didn't try to do it well I could end up being insulting to the countless women who will be at Equip and will be feeling sad and anxious about issues of childlessness; and that even though mostly I am okay about not being a mum, thinking too much about waiting for a child makes me feel bone-wearyingly sad.

2. I have changed so much since theatre was my life; there are people I know now who never even knew that 'other' me. Now, I don't mind the changes that have taken me away from wanting a life in the theatre, and I love how God has shaped me and grown me since my uni years.

But the thing that upset me was the change in my demeanour, in my outlook since being struck with depression. I feel like the black dog has eaten parts of me, or like the depression is an acid that has burned giant holes in my fabric...if I'd had the energy last night I would have tried to draw it, because it's hard to explain.

I used to be so excited about performing, about the medium of theatre. I could see exactly what to do to communicate a thought or emotion, and how to do it (though I've always been a better director than actor). I had energy. I had projection. I had passion. I loved being part of an ensemble and making plays. And now, even though depression-wise I'm nowhere near as bad as I've been in the past, it's like that me has dissolved. It's like I'm missing parts of my personality. I almost resented the other girls for being in touch with that, when I couldn't access it anymore.

It's hard to explain. But I think maybe the sad feeling was grieving those things. They aren't huge, insurmountable issues to deal with. But they definitely tripped me up.

Hearing talks on heaven at Equip this weekend will be good for me!

Battle

I am becoming a road warrior.

I always thought that was a stupid term, but since I started working in Rydalmere, which involves a 50-60 minute drive each way in heavy traffic, I am beginning to understand. You really do need to don armour and develop a tough mindset to get out amongst that every day!

Today the traffic war started almost as soon as I'd left the house. Turning onto a roundabout a block away from my house, and I believe I had right of way, a man in a Mercedes sped up right behind me. I was doing 50 down this residential street (as is the law) to the intersection only about 100 metres away and he overtook me, angrily zooming down the wrong side of the road into oncoming traffic just so he could be one spot ahead of me.

Madness!

In the last few weeks I've seen a lot of that. People pushing in so they can be first. People screaming at other people because they are obeying the law. People deliberately harassing other drivers on the road. It's so easy to take the bait and get angry in response, to gesture or swear or yell or speed up just so that other person doesn't win. But win what?!

Today I resolved that instead of getting angry in traffic, every time I felt frustrated I would try to pray instead. I know it sounds sanctimonious, but I just thought, why is that not my first response? I should pray that God would make me gracious, and that he would calm everyone around me down.

So that's my resolution. Do you pray for people around you when you're out and about? I realise that for all that my church talks about being real with the world and the Bible talks about loving our neighbours, I rarely step out of my little bubble and remind myself that every single person I see is loved by God, whether they acknowledge it or not. And I should try to see them the same way, as precious to him, and not just as objects that are costing me an extra 60 seconds on the road.

a picture is worth several words at least

What's been happening?

Here I am, graduating from Moore Theological College, with a Diploma of Bible and Youth Ministry.

[flickr id="6850254044" thumbnail="medium" overlay="true" size="medium" group="Graduation" align="none"]

Kim was the fourth year 'big sister' who organised my little prayer quartet at college. I knew her from AFES days, and now that she's graduated with a Bachelor of Divinity, she's gone back to AFES to work at UNSW, sharing the gospel with students. She is a wonderful woman and I was blessed to share my life and prayer with her and the other girls in our group, Jacquie and Grace.

[flickr id="6850263380" thumbnail="medium" overlay="true" size="medium" group="Graduation" align="none"]

Doug was a student minister at Wild Street and graduated with a Bachelor of Divinity too. He's one of those brilliantly smart dudes, but who also has an interesting sense of humour and a tireless servant heart. I was inspired by the way he and his wife, Jayme, taught the senior youth group kids last year.

[flickr id="6996380931" thumbnail="medium" overlay="true" size="medium" group="Graduation" align="none"]

My mum and my godmother, Freda. These women are two of the brightest Christian lights in my life, who have always prayed for me and loved me and longed for me to have an ever deeper relationship with Jesus. I love them.

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The Hive Mind! Guan is still at college for this year, and Karen did the Diploma of Bible and Ministry a few years ago. They are my creative cheersquad, ever supportive and inspiring.

Here I am, with pink hair and cat ears, at Supanova Melbourne.

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This look got a very positive reaction from my Facebook friends! Karen and I were in Melbourne at Supanova, a pop culture convention showcasing just about every nerdy thing anyone could be interested in - comics, anime, cult TV shows, sci-fi/fantasy/comic book movies, sci-fi/fantasy/horror fiction writing, costumes...oh it was great. Karen has written about our weekend in fine detail here, but as a brief summary, we gave out about 1200 promotional postcards directing people to the Kinds of Blue website, and we sold (or gave to Key People We Like) 28 of the 30 books we had taken with us. We were blown away by the sales - we had really not expected to sell that many. In fact, the people on the table next to us selling a horror novel were quite envious as they hadn't sold many at all. I was really pleased by the reaction of most people, that it was a valuable book to be in existence, and that it was really well produced.

I'm really looking forward to Supanova Sydney in June, when we'll do it all again!

Here I am, with pink hair and no cat ears, at WildKids.

[flickr id="6952937462" thumbnail="medium" overlay="true" size="medium" group="" align="none"]

Straight after getting back from the huge Supanova weekend, I went into helping out with the WildKids holiday program, which this year had the theme 'Wild about science'. We explored God's world through science, and explored what he had to say from the Bible about living in his world. Each day we would do experiments, which then had a link into illustrating our situation with God. The kids really loved it. We had over 75 kids each day, and an impressive team of volunteers from Wild Street who took the week off work (or part of the week) to come and help out. I'm praying that many of the kids will have understood the gospel message, and that, through God's grace, the seeds we have sown will one day bear fruit!

[flickr id="6952938998" thumbnail="medium" overlay="true" size="medium" group="" align="none"]

The kids were really taken with this one. When we did revision each day, and asked them what we had done, most kids got the key point, "we messed up the world", but there was usually at least one who yelled, "we put SLIME on it!!!!"

It's been a busy time, but one that has been full of blessings!

our house

Well hey, it's the middle of the night and I can't sleep. Not even drowsy. Wide wiiiiide wide awake.

So why not write?

We've been in our little South Hurstville house for about a month. Man, that went fast! There is still a pile of mouldering cardboard boxes outside that the removalists promised to pick up and never did. But aside from that, the boxes are unpacked, pictures are hung and most things have a place.

It's a marvellous house, really, and it immediately felt like home. The first couple of nights I was a bit frustrated by the road noise when trying to sleep, but now I hardly notice it (I had little choice but to get used to it once I investigated the cost of double glazing the windows!). Right now, it's completely silent, which is nice.

Mum graciously gave me the larger room, because I had so much STUFF, despite weeks of culling before we moved. The wardrobe I was going to use broke in the move, so after a mad dash to IKEA with Lachy I got a brand new one and put it together with help from Amelia. I haven't quite worked out the best way of storing all the craft and Tupperware stuff but it does fit. Mum has reached frustration point with her bedroom so I think another trip to IKEA is on the cards in the near future.

The garden is going to be a constant source of joy and toil, I think. The back third of the yard is a total rainforest, save for the little path winding its way through the spider webs and ferns. The previous owners had owned three houses in a row and landscaped the backyard as one big yard, so the vision has been somewhat truncated by needing to divide the yard back into three separate blocks. Even so, I love our little wilderness. I've done a few hours each week and it's starting to look useable again. I even have a garden elf (aka Virginia) helping me on occasion - in fact she did a masterful job of clearing a very enthusiastic jasmine plant on our first day in. When I get another burst of energy, I'm going to start growing vegies again, as I have missed the excitement of watching things grow (and then eating them...mwa ha ha).

True, it isn't perfect, and we're still getting used to the area. There is a bit of an ant problem (I discovered a comprehensive ant nest inside a curtain rail this morning, which was most unpleasant). Most of the windows don't open thanks to a careless painter. But they are really very small things. We're living in our own house! It's marvellous!

in between

We're in the middle of moving to our new house. We got the keys on Friday, and after some packing and cleaning with wonderful helpers at Maroubra, we went over to South Hurstville and excitedly jumped around in our new house!

Being back at the Maroubra house is weird though. All the cupboards and shelves are empty, except for the things we're still using (eg clothes, kitchen stuff). Mum and I are both completely exhausted, but muster the energy every so often to make up another box and put yet more of our stuff in. It seems we've thrown or given away or sold so much of our stuff, and yet there is still so. much. stuff. It's good to cull. But hard. And wearying.

But after Tuesday, when the removalists take all our furniture over, we will be finally moved in and no longer living in between two houses. Less than 48 hours but it seems so far away!

In

Sometimes I really hate being an introvert. Especially at times like church weekends away. I'll be in a room full of people I love and whose company I enjoy, yet feel entirely alone and like I need to run away. I think people who don't know me well assume I'm not as introverted as all that because I'm always involved and up the front doing something. But it's all a ruse!

It's taken all my energy at this weekend I'm away on at the moment to stay here, and not to drive home for the night as soon as dinner finished. And It's not like I'm having a bad time! I'm just so thoroughly drained from being with people all day. I look at those playing games and having hilarious, raucous conversations with great envy.

The tiredness from too many people also exacerbates emotions because i was already feeling a bit low, it's just made me feel incredibly sad. And to compensate for feeling rotten, and to try and keep my energy at a level where I can participate in even a short chat, I've eaten far too much fatty and sugary food. Which doesn't help at all.

Sometimes I really hate being an introvert.

sweet compulsion

There was a special on the Tupperware modular mates sets this month that was too good to ignore.  It took very little convincing to get mum to agree that yes, we did need to maximise the space in our pantry and yes, it did seem a good offer.

Well it arrived today! And after finishing a particularly gruelling typing job, I rewarded myself by reordering the pantry. I know, to most people, this would not be a reward. But it pleases me so greatly to see everything all neat and boxed up like that.

 

Ahh. Much more space. Plus I cleared out a whole other set of drawers that had pasta and rice in it. Order! The illusion of control! Four different kinds of flour and four different kinds of sugar!

I love it.

detritus

As I go through the boxes in the garage of stuff I had carefully stored there for the past four and a half years, and lugged around with me from rental place to rental place for years before that, I wonder...why?

It's kind of a grim process, sifting through the material remnants of my life and finding I don't want to keep any of it.

If I ever become a famous author, I'm sure future archivists will weep at the thought of all the juvenilia I've just thrown in the recycling, but I can't even bear to re-read it. Out it goes.

I open a box of CDs. CDs! (will the current generation have less stuff to cart around because more of it is digitally stored, I wonder?) Each album reminds me of a time or a person...many of them I don't even care to recall, and yet I have carried these CDs with me. I don't want them anymore but I don't want to get rid of them...and yet if someone came and took them all away, I would be none the less for it.

Boxes of scripts from university plays. T-shirts and programmes from those shows. My old year 12 shirt, signed and scribbled and defaced by my classmates.

Much of it is in the bin. Some stuff will go to Vinnies. Some will be spread out on our driveway on Saturday at our garage sale, hoping to find another home.

And none of it will be coming with us.

home

It's been an insane week. Mum and I have bought a house.

[caption id="attachment_610" align="aligncenter" width="486" caption="Our new home"][/caption]

My wonderfully generous father and his wife told me mid last year they wanted to help me and my brother buy property so we weren't paying rent anymore. They proposed we find something big enough for me, Nick and mum to live together. It was a somewhat daunting proposition. I was only earning a minimum through my graphic design business while juggling almost full time study. Much as I love my brother, I didn't really think we'd be able to live together. Much as he loves me, my brother didn't want to live anywhere I was looking, and only wanted the inner city. We certainly couldn't afford anything there that would be big enough for the three of us.

I had a few half-hearted looks at things that were way out of our price range and felt quite defeated by the whole thing. I still didn't (and don't) have a steady job, so what bank would give me a mortgage? I kept praying about it, knowing that God would provide somewhere if he wanted this to happen.

We decided that Nick would look for his own place, and mum and I would look for something together. Dad suggested mum and I get a joint loan, which immediately made the whole prospect more viable for me, as she has a steady income and it would mean that she was getting an asset too.

We have friends who live in the St George region (Bexley, Wolli Creek, Bardwell Park). It seemed a world away to me, just because I'm not familiar with the area, but it really isn't any further away than the inner west or even other parts of the Eastern suburbs. So I started looking there, and almost immediately found a semi in South Hurstville that was at an unbelievable price. I realised it was on a very busy main road, next to a petrol station. I didn't hope for much, but the pictures looked nice, so I went to see it.

And now we're buying it. I never, ever, ever thought I would be in this position. When I thought about the future, it never included me owning property. Ever.

[caption id="attachment_609" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="A prettyish sort of wilderness - I hope to build a writing studio here one day"][/caption]

We prayed hard throughout the whole process, for wisdom and patience and trust. We can certainly see God's providence in this! It was just so unbelievably smooth. There were no other people looking at it when I went to see it, because the weather had been bad and people weren't really out and about, so we had no competition for it. We offered less than the asking price and got it. The bank approved our loan with no problems. Even tiny things have had excellent timing like the scheduled council clean up is around the time we move, and our rent is due to increase in April (after we move out).

[caption id="attachment_608" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="The back room"][/caption]

I know my security does not lie in worldly things, and that bricks and mortar can be taken away from you as easily as anything else. But I also know that God lovingly and lavishly provides, in his own way, in his own time. How could I ever doubt him? I pray that somehow God will be glorified by us living there, that we will use this house well for ministry, and that mum and I will thrive living there.

weasel words

Part of the reason for being all up in the air at the moment is that I am both looking for a job and a place to live (Dad is helping me and my brother buy property, which is awesome, but having a decently paying job is kind of an important part of this equation. Anyway, I digress...). As a result I've been spending a lot of time on real estate and employment websites and am growing increasingly jaded by the emptiness of the copy that advertises houses and jobs. Some examples:

[box]"looking for an ambitious self-starter "

"fast paced global facing digital environment"

"sought-after location"

"Be part of an industry leading, highly dynamic and empowered team"

"Enjoy the lifestyle on offer"

"Are you passionate about the digital space"

"priced to sell" (which goes well with "Vendor says sell!")

"Join a widely renowned and formally recognised agency within a global network"

"contemporary living"

"Funcky Office " (?!)

"This modern apartment is in the heart of marrickville with enviable to everywhere and everything are just at a fingertips includes shopping, restaurants, café, train" um...[/box]

Though there was a moment of humour amongst the dross - job ad for publisher of "entertaining fiction for women"(let the reader understand), applications were to be sent to "Belinda Lusty". It's nominative determinism gone mad, I tell you!

red and black

[feel free to hum strains of the song from Les Mis as you read*]

Christmas is over. People are away. Everything's quietening down. So that means - time free to sew without procrastinatory guilt!

My favourite colour combo at present is a bold black and white IKEA print with a plain red for contrast (though they don't seem to have the print I've used on their website anymore). I love their fabrics for bag making, as the prints appeal to me, the weight of the cotton fabric is heavy but not upholstery-fabric-heavy, and the fabric is reasonably cheap.

I've made two tote bags out of this combo, and two cushion covers that Karen commissioned. I had just enough left to make a camera tote bag for my new Canon 60D!

[gallery link="file"]

I don't much like having to deal with zips or velcro when carrying a camera about. I like to just be able to pull the camera out at whim, shoot, and put it away with a minimum of fuss. Of course that means that the bag isn't so great from a security perspective, but with the short straps it will always be close to my body so I'm not bothered by that so much.

I also used the padded, velcroed inserts from an old camera bag to create the partition, which can be removed if I need to use the bag for bigger things. The red lining is some old fat stripe corduroy that gives the whole thing a nice, cushiony feel.

This is probably the first successful bag I've made up completely out of my head. Woo hoo! Seems the skills I have learned from other bag making patterns have stuck!

It's not the first total original I have attempted - I still have a bag for Little that's 3/4 finished and a bag for Hendry that is pretty much done. I made both of those up, but I'm not completely satisfied with them...they're kind of prototypes I guess, but since I don't really do factory-line assembly I guess every bag is unique, so to call them prototypes wouldn't be quite correct. I think it was more that both Little and Hendry commissioned me to make them, and I felt like the workmanship needed to be better than my usual efforts if money was actually going to change hands (cushion covers are a little simpler!).

But I am very happy with my camera bag. So maybe it's time to finish these other bags and release them to their owners!

 

 

 

* I remember seeing this in London, and previously I had overlooked this song, much preferring the twittering of the female roles** to the militant dude songs, but on this occasion was particularly captivated by Marius's verse: "Had you been there tonight you might know how it feels / to be struck to the bone in a moment of breathless delight". I was such a romantic, swoony teenager.

** though Cosette always was a pain.