Metaphors, everywhere

It was cold. I was sick. The day had been long, but now I was headed home.

Life throws obstacles at you, life is not smooth.

I walked quickly, shoulders hunched, trying to turn my body into itself to shield myself from the cold. There was not much wind, but nonetheless, it hit me on every available bit of exposed skin: face, ears, hands.

No matter how fast you try to speed things up, things will come at you. Don’t let them stop you. Keep moving on, moving on. Don’t let them stop you.

I pulled my woolly scarf over and around my ears, burying my mouth into it so as not to intake the sharp Winter air.

You will need to use all your resources and depend on your closest crew to help you get by. Have them on call for a word of support, and make sure that those that surround you will only give you that. You may find you only have one, two, if you’re lucky three people like this. You’re rich already, that’s perfect.

I shoved my hands into my coat pockets trying to temporarily shield them.

You will need to dig deep to find that ‘thing’ within you: passion? belief? truth? courage? inspiration? determination? ALL OF THE ABOVE.

It’s so cold, it’s so cold… no it’s ok, it’s ok, one step closer, one step closer, each step is bringing me closer to my destination…

You will be tired, and hungry, and maybe even cold, but you must not lose sight of the bigger picture. You must not forget why you started. Why did you start? Don’t give up. Each step, each setback, each failure, is bringing you closer to where you want to go.

I get to my car, and sink into the seat with a sigh. Ahh. Finally. I’m here.

When you get to your destination, use whatever creative release to celebrate. You have made it.

You will make it.

(These were my background thoughts to my latest post #132 over at my other blog, carcrashgratitude).

Shameless self-promotion

Hey You. Yes, YOU.

In case you, or anyone else didn’t realise, that little sidebar on the right of this screen running alongside my blog posts, that refers to a ‘carcrashgratitude’? That’s my other blog.

It all happened when I had a car crash you see. Aptly named, I know. Because from that deeply stressful incident, I decided to try my hand at posting a different item of gratitude per day for the rest of my life. If you want to read the full story, it can be found here.

Huge task, right? You got it. I’ve currently completed 127 days of attitude. I know there will undoubtedly be tough times ahead (as much as I am a glass half-full gal I know this), but I hope that no matter what happens I can still find some piece of hope or happiness in that particular hard day to share. Not just for me, but for you too. Because everyone can do this. If you look hard enough, sometimes in the tightest of corners or stupidest of places, you can find it.

I find a lot of gratitude in food. I find gratitude in my closest such as baby girl, hubbie and my family. Sometimes just a cold walk will make me happy, and you can’t forget coffee. My love. Yes, coffee definitely gets a mention.

I write about frivolous things. I write about deeply personal things, like my recent #127 post. I take photos and share those that I love. And of course the weather, writing and parenting is another big contender on my site.

I love the challenge to write about things in a different and novel fashion every time. There will undoubtedly be days where I don’t have anything new I am grateful for that I haven’t already posted about. The challenge is to find the countless ways in which I can express gratitude to one particular thing, take coffee for instance (of course I would use that as an example again). I’ve mentioned it several times on my gratitude blog already, and I will probably mention it 100 more, finding different avenues of appreciation for it.

I know this site only presents one side of things. Some people get pissed off when others are happy. I’m not saying I’m not bored, depressed, shitty or cranky with people EVER. I mean hello, I’m human! I have a Things that shit me tag on this site for that very function for when I have to blah! and purge everything out. I need the balance.

But I also know that gratitude is very powerful. It’s nice to count the ways you can be grateful, and I promise you, when you start, you won’t believe how good your life actually is.

Don’t you want to know how good your life really is? Yes YOU! I’m talking to YOU.

Come on, have a go. It won’t hurt. I promise.

carcrashgratitude.wordpress.com

(I may end there as I think I have exhausted my use of links for self-promotion…)

How to do Port Douglas in 4 nights (with kids) – Part 2

(Travelled: Jan ’16)

This is part 2 of my Port Douglas snap shot which goes through the local attractions we experienced. For any information on Port Douglas Travel, Accommodation, Weather, or Food, click here to see Part 1 of this article.

ATTRACTIONS

Market – We went to the market at the end of Macrossan Street the first morning we were there, which was a Sunday. It was interesting looking around at the local fare and seeing what was happening in that part of the world. It’s custom to wear sandals and thongs, but there was mud here due to the recent rain, so beware. You’ll be obliged to buy something, just for the hell of it, just as I did with my body crystal and our shared mango drink (where else in the world do you buy mango drink from people who grow them in their backyard and then turn it into liquid in front of you?)

Summary: Nice to check out if you’re there on a Sunday for a bit of a stroll, but don’t lose sleep if you have other things to do either.

Breakfast with the Birds – An event at the Wildlife Habitat Centre, you can do either breakfast or lunch, but we opted for breakfast and arrived to a cold and hot assortment of breakfast foods, sitting amongst a large outdoor canopied area where birds suddenly appeared, or watched you from nearby trees! It was certainly an experience and something different, and if you have kids, (or a big kid who likes birds, *ahem Hubbie*) you can get up close and personal, talk to the experienced staff there, and take photos too.

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Just don’t go too close, please. I’m not saying it’s not allowed, there were just some visitors there who were asking for it as they shoved their big-ass lens camera into the black cockatoo’s field of vision and then DIDN’T get bitten. Unfortunately. Have some respect for these creatures and hang back. You have a big-ass lens, don’t you? Use it.

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Following this we decided quite spontaneously to join the Rainforest Walk – this was fantastic! Again, it was fun for baby girl, and the other big kid lover of birds as well as me because hey, I like hearing about these different animals and learning about their way of life, and our guide that day was fantastic, enthusiastic and very informative, making the experience all the more interesting. We saw a Cassowary bird, which baby girl fed watermelon to, an experience that has stayed with us all since, especially her! And got to meet and fly along with many cheeky parrots.

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Of course you don’t have to join a tour to check out the wild habitat there. At the conclusion of that tour we went to see some crocs (and one giant one!) on our own walk, and then we concluded with a bit of a shop in the retail section before leaving. Our tickets to the Breakfast with the Birds meant that we could also come back once more for free, which was a great offer, but we didn’t take it up. We had much more sight-seeing to do!

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Summary: A great experience for kids and bird-lovers alike, and quite informative too. Eating and being in the same room as the birds is an interesting concept, so I think this is one you have to do for something a bit different and memorable.

Mossman Gorge – If you were looking for paradise on earth, this is where you would find it. In particular, in the swimming hole within Mossman Gorge.

But what… ‘Hole?’ ‘Swimming Hole?’ That is the worst description I have ever heard to describe the beauty I came across that day there. And yet, that is how it was described to me. ‘Hole’ is nothing close to, nowhere near enough a word to describe this paradise. In fact, a hole is as far away a description to describe this paradise as literarily possible (did I just make up a word?) Here are some photos (which do no justice to the real thing):

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We came to the Mossman Gorge centre, having heard about the ‘swimming hole’ there, with that Rainforest being the one we chose because quite simply, it wasn’t too far from our resting point, and we wanted to make the most of our time. In another trip, we might do the Daintree as well (as well as the Mossman again!) but this trip we had to be time-efficient. At the centre, where there is a retail shop, café, and plenty of walkers refuelling or getting ready to set off walking around the rainforest, we purchased a ticket to board the bus that took us into the heart of the Rainforest, which was about a 5-10 minute drive. Many people did this too, coming with towels… Hmmm. The ticket specifically said “NO SWIMMING!”

We had no idea where we were going as we arrived at the destination, but we exited the bus and followed the towel-holders into the rainforest, amidst towering trees and walking on plank-like bridges. The lady at the retail shop had told me it was a minute’s walk to the swimming hole, and yet it was more like 5. Difficult only because I was carrying a tired baby girl in my arms.

But she sure woke up when we got there.

In the gentle slide as the earth dipped down towards the water’s entrance, there were people everywhere: amidst trees far back, along this sloping slightly muddy path, and then, in and amongst the beautiful and pristine waters. It ranged from people decked out in swimwear and the tiniest of bikinis, to people who had like us, not been prepared for an all-in-body-water experience, and had just come with shorts and thongs.

It was magical. Truly mesmerising. I took off baby girl’s dress and let her immerse herself in just her singlet. What the hell. She only had the best time of her life (well one of, we are pretty cool parents). I was happy I had on my high shorts, and took off my thongs, wading in the cool water up to my knees. We stood. We watched. We breathed. We took in everything, and I was moved to tears.

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Everyone who was there, was doing just as we were. Just being. All these people, ranging from the littlest of tots to the oldest grand-dads, were there, with accents from all over the world, and they were, just still in the water, wading or relaxing from a distance, and taking in the beauty that is Mossman Gorge.

And you know what I felt in that moment? I felt so damn proud to be Australian. This amazing country of ours had a rainforest and a special slice of paradise that people from all over were coming to see. I felt so blessed, and I still do. I think what made the moment even more special was the fact that we had come not expecting anything – all I thought we would do is wade in the water. That’s it. We waded alright. But we stepped into precious beauty and untold magic when doing so. It gave me chills, and when I think about it, I still get goosebumps.

Summary: If you can’t tell from my short essay on Mossman Gorge – GO THERE. Your children will love it, and so will you. And yes, there are signs and things that say ‘do not swim’… so I’m not telling you or endorsing you to swim. Just use your damn common sense. (If you see a fin or tentacles or jagged bits popping up through the water, run).

This place will remain in my heart forever more.

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4 Mile Beach – Another find. I said Mossman Gorge is like paradise on earth, right? Well if you’re looking for heaven on this planet, you need not go any further than down Macrossan street until you hit water. And then just thank me later.

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This was another unexpected ‘Wow’ moment. I think we had had many difficult moments with a tired and under-slept baby girl, so to not know how great it would be only to then discover that this beach was unbelievably unreal, was another very happy moment for all.

I was told by many people before coming to Port Douglas that you cannot swim in their waters due to creepy water creatures. I thank God that I did not listen to any of those people. I mean, we got accommodation with a pool in case, but still, I’m so happy we did it our way.

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See that? That is netting. It stretched fairly wide, meaning it kept out all nasties – crocs, jellyfish and sharks! Those were the creatures actually listed on a board at the beach, advising swimmers to beware. So if you want to have a pleasurable swimming experience, possibly the nicest of your life, then go ahead, swim safely within the large net. But if you like to live on the edge with risk of being stung/bitten/eaten, then by all means, BE MY GUEST.

Swimming in the netting did by no way diminish our swimming experience. It was clean, it was safe, and the water was exactly the same as the water that wasn’t protected by nets – just without the scare factor. Oh, did I mention this?

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28 degrees my friends. Read it and weep.

I loved this beach, and my only regret is that we didn’t have more beach days. We spent about 3 hours here, getting here early on a Tuesday morning before 9, grabbing an umbrella’d chair to leave our stuff (you need to pay though, it gives you a few hours) and then soaking up the incredible Port Douglas Sun, Surf and Sand.

My repetitive thought during our time there? ‘Take it in, take it in, take it in…remember this moment.’

I don’t need to sell you anymore on it, do I? Just in case:

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Summary: Go to 4 Mile Beach. Parents and children alike will LOVE it.

 

Calypso Half-Day Great Barrier Reef Tour – We had really wanted to see some of the Great Barrier Reef, but neither hubbie or I being scuba divers or snorkelers or having even tried it before in any capacity, we wanted a beginners version. We ended up going with Calypso only because our first choice, travelling to and spending a day at Quicksilver’s platoon, was booked out. With Calypso there was a half-hour boat ride to an island where there was either the choice of taking a glass-bottom boat ride to see the coral and underwater creatures, or do some snorkelling around the island. The option of either or with no real emphasis on having to snorkel, sounded great to novices such as us.

We had a bit of a ‘misunderstanding,’ we’ll call it, on trying to book the Calypso half-day tour. They had cancelled on us a previous day due to choppy winds, which means the boat does not go out and there is no tour. Our hotel owners advised that we should just arrive at their offices nearby where the boats are docked, the morning of when we wanted to go, because at least then we would be able to know if we could go. Booking in advance didn’t seem to help any extra, because we could just as easily be cancelled on. This was advised by both hotel management and apparently, Calypso too.

We went on Tuesday morning, the day before we were meant to jet off back to Melbourne. I ran into the office to buy tickets, while hubbie waited with baby girl in the car. Upon running in and seeing other people come in with tickets, I asked if we could book the half-day tour for that morning, only to be told by a girl behind the counter that they were all booked out for that session. I despondently asked if they had an afternoon availability, and she said they were completely booked out for that one too. Their next availabilities were for the following day, but knowing we would be on a plane the next day, I walked away.

Hubbie was there as I left the store, having come in with baby girl, being sure that I had already bought the tickets. After telling him what the lady had told me, he got fired up. He went in, asking the same question of the girl, and when he got the same answer, he told her that we had in fact been told to come in last second because Calypso had cancelled on us the day before. If we couldn’t book in advance due to fear of cancellation anyway, but we couldn’t rock up last minute either because everything was booked out, then how the hell could we organise this freaking tour?

(He didn’t say that word for word, but that way sounds better).

You know what she said?

“There’s just been a cancellation for the afternoon tour, I can book you on that one.”

This, literally 2 minutes after she told me there was no availability for the afternoon tour.

I paid, and we left. And all was good. After all we ended up at 4 Mile Beach that morning and had the most incredible time. We had lunch, and then went off to do this bloody tour.

Look, in a nutshell, it was alright. Upon embarking we took off our shoes, and were encouraged to just get a scuba suit and flippers, because ‘what the hell, you might as well.’ This actually excited us as we had never snorkelled, but one of the instructors implied he could show one of us while the other was with baby girl, and vice versa.

I admit I was a bit scared but excited. I was going to scuba dive in the Great Barrier Reef?!

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The boat ride up was beautiful. Travelling all that distance, going through all that water at high-speed, was amazing. This was a boat ride to the low isles. Basically I think that means that this is the outskirts of the Great Barrier Reef, you’re not in the thick of the coral and all the underwater fish as if you would be if you travelled further in. It was still beautiful. We listened to instructions on board about how to wear your equipment and operate it, and it appeared we were the only ones who were there primarily to see the glass-bottom boat, apart from one other couple, but even they snorkelled in the water later, a little.

The glass-bottom boat was ok. We saw a few things, and I still enjoyed it, but I really think you need to be in the midst of the Great Barrier Reef to see anything really good. I wasn’t in complete awe or anything dramatic like that. Upon completion we went back to where the main boat had docked, wondering if now someone could show us how to scuba. There was an American girl instructor, a guy also her age instructing, and an older, perhaps 40 year-old instructor. He had been our tour-guide on the glass-bottom boat as the rest of our group went scuba diving off the main boat and towards the island. We hadn’t actually docked at the small island for some reason, I can’t remember why but there seemed to be a genuine reason for it. The guy who had implied he could show us to scuba, suddenly decided that he and this American chick would now jump on the glass-bottom boat and take it as a pair to the island, because they wanted to try and get some photos of a turtle or something. And then they were off, clearly with their own personal intentions, and Hubbie reckons his intentions were extremely personal, saying he obviously had the hots for the US chick and wanted to go alone with her. Leaving the 40 year-old instructor with us.

This instructor was good. He was just shitty. You could tell. He was shitty that the two young ones had left, leaving him on board the main boat with Hubbie, me, baby girl and another couple. The guy from the other couple was more confident heading out into the water, whereas the girl stayed back, closer to the boat. They had both at least scuba dived before. We hadn’t. We had been told by the young instructor that we could watch him. He went off because his head was leading him. But not his top one.

The older instructor gave us tips here and there, but his heart wasn’t in it. He was shitty, trying to be professional. I don’t blame him really. Everyone else was off either scuba diving and instructing the rest of the group, or cosying up and trying to get lucky with a colleague.

Both hubbie and I, at various times, with a few half-arsed tips from the 40 year-old instructor, jumped into the water, staying close to the boat, dunking our heads in and trying to breathe through the breathing apparatus. That was not bad, it was the water flooding into the part protecting our nose which made it difficult. It was a few minutes at best, but we could still say “We snorkelled in the Great Barrier Reef!”

I was a bit disappointed that no one had taken the time to show us properly – they certainly had ample opportunity, but were busy making personal plans or were just upset. I didn’t want to focus on it, seeing as everything else about where we were was amazing, but even the girl from the other couple whispered to me later that Quicksilver’s tour of the Reef was much better, especially being a beginner. She had been on that one before, being a not-so-confident scuba diver herself, and said it was far superior to this Calypso tour. I told her we had tried to book but we were too late! Hearing her thoughts, and also criticism of the way some things were done there, only confirmed to me that there were many parts of this tour that could be improved upon.

Very small provisions were offered after all of that, some were free like fruit, and some payable like alcohol. The ride back to the docks was a quiet one, everyone happy to watch the surf spray up from beneath us, taking in the beautiful scenery that is one of the 7 natural wonders of the world, and getting decent colour in the hot afternoon sun.

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Summary: I enjoyed the experience and the location – the tour itself with Calypso, not so much. Many things could be improved upon, for example the professionalism. It was $120 per person, so there was value for money… but nowhere in the brochures did it say ‘Expert snorkelers only!’ so it wasn’t too much to ask for a little assistance for snorkeller virgins such as ourselves. Fortunately with baby girl being 2, she got in for free. It was a 2-5pm tour, and there is also a morning one, starting about 7ish.

If you don’t want to spend the whole day snorkelling, or out at the Reef, and you have some clue as to how to snorkel, well maybe you won’t mind the Calypso tour. That’s the only way I would recommend this tour, if you fulfil those above requirements. Otherwise, based on our personal experiences, I would NOT recommend it. Plus, I didn’t mention that the guy who was chasing the US chick was also arrogant. Just saying.

If you can spare a whole day at the Great Barrier Reef, and whether you are experienced or not, I believe Quicksilver’s trip to their Platoon where you spend the day there, is the best place to go. It’s the one I’d be recommending, and I haven’t even been, but I will, next time we go. Just book it in advance!

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So concludes our Port Douglas trip in a rather large nutshell. I’d be more than happy to answer any questions for anyone wanting some more information about any part of the trip, so please drop me a line if you plan on visiting this part of the world in your near future.

And if you weren’t planning on going to Port Douglas, I hope my experiences have inspired you to perhaps give this tropical paradise a go at some point, or maybe it will motivate you to seek out your own version of paradise, whatever or wherever that may be 🙂 Happy travelling.

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Women vs. Men #4

Rewind around 4 years ago. Hubbie gets an electric shaver pack for his birthday including a very metro-man moisturiser, body wash, and other bathroom pushing-the-boundaries-of-masculinity-for-him, ‘products.’

Me: “You should use this moisturiser, it’s really good. And it’ll help the flaky skin on the side of your face.”

Hubbie: “I’m gonna use that moisturiser?!”

Me: (sigh).

Fast forward to last year. I buy him a moisturiser this time, as part of his Christmas present.

Christmas morning. Unwrapping presents. I have killed it in the presents department that Christmas. Every present he opens – boom! I’ve nailed it.

He opens the moisturiser.

Hubbie: “Why did you buy me a moisturiser? I already have one! You’re just wasting money!”

Me: (unsure if the last good moisturiser went missing) “Well just use it!”

Hubbie: (sighs).

– Moisturiser stays untouched –

Months later, a wedding.

In the car.

Me: “Look at you!” I scrape my fingernails against the dry skin on the side of his face, drier because he jumped out of the shower half an hour ago. The flakes fall to his suit jacket, and I dust them off his shoulders hastily.

“Why don’t you use the moisturiser?! I don’t know why you don’t use it, it will help your skin!”

Hubbie: (ignores me).

Me: “You spend so much time looking at yourself in the mirror, making yourself look good, and then THAT-” I point threateningly at the side of his face ” – that let’s you down.”

Silence.

I give up. No more word on the moisturiser. I can’t change the spots on this leopard.

(Or can I?)

Fast forward again to a few nights ago. Baby girl is having a bath. Hubbie sits as usual, up on the bench near the sink, while I crouch beside the bath near her.

Randomly. Out of nowhere. Hubbie picks up the moisturiser I bought him that has just been sitting there on the bathroom bench for yonks, gathering dust (literally, I dust around and on top of it all the time).

“I might put some of this on.”

Focused on baby girl, but still hearing him, I’m slightly shocked. “Yes! Use it!” I urge him. She splashes, and I’m only half-aware as he lays it on.

The following night.

Hubbie: “Hey, you know that moisturiser? It actually worked!”

(FACEPALM).

Me: (a strong combination of frustration due to intense I-told-you-so, and relief, and yet still the need to heavily promote the moisturiser).

“Of course it worked! Why don’t you like, actually listen to me a bit more, because I am right! I use moisturiser ALL THE TIME! You know I put body lotion on after every shower, because I don’t want dry skin. Who wants dry skin? You don’t want dry skin…”

But I’ve lost him again. I lost him at

‘I am right.’

Of course I did.

Women vs. Men #4

What it feels like for a girl

“Do you know what it feels like for a girl?

Do you know what it feels like in this world

For a girl?”

‘I’d love to wear this – but too revealing.

Better pick this covered option. I don’t want the stares. People would talk.’

 

“Girls can wear jeans

And cut their hair short

Wear shirts and boots”

‘I can hear someone approaching behind me… wait, do I turn just yet?

It’s ok, they’ve passed me. Another worker. Breathe.’

 

“’Cause it’s OK to be a boy

But for a boy to look like a girl is degrading

‘Cause you think that being a girl is degrading”

‘Do I take this alleyway? Too dark.

Next one, just in case.’

 

“Silky smooth

Lips as sweet as candy, baby

Tight blue jeans

Skin that shows in patches”

‘Don’t meet his eyes, don’t meet his eyes, don’t meet his eyes

I wouldn’t want to give him the wrong impression

(That’s what women are taught)’

 

“Strong inside but you don’t know it

Good little girls they never show it”

‘Oh crap, two guys are approaching. Scan the area: do they seem legit?

Workwear: check.

Walking with purpose: check

They’ve passed me now… phew. Walk faster.’

 

“When you open up your mouth to speak

Could you be a little weak”

 

‘Just because I’m a girl he thinks he can get away with his insurance claim?

Because girls are incompetent drivers I guess. (I’ll show him).

 

“Hair that twirls on finger tips so gently, baby

Hands that rest on jutting hips repenting”

 

‘I hope they take heed of my points in the meeting…

If they don’t, these loose buttons will grab their attention. Better than nothing.’

 

“Hurt that’s not supposed to show

And tears that fall when no one knows

When you’re trying hard to be your best

Could you be a little less”

‘I wish they didn’t look at me like that. Don’t objectify me.

I’m a wife, a mother, and a daughter. What if someone stared at your sister the way you stared at me?

How kindly would you take to a wolf whistle then?’

 

“Do you know what it feels like for a girl

What it feels like in this world…

Do you know

Do you know”

???

I’m sorry…

I’ve noticed a change in me lately. It’s come as a result of being self-aware of some of my ongoing words and actions, words and actions that have upset me very much.

I’m overly apologetic.

And I’m sorry for it.

I became quite aware of it, a couple of weeks ago while at work. I was in the company of some new people, and when the mention of my footy team came up, and how I supported it, I brushed it off.

You see, the old SmikG would have just told you that I barrack for a team that you either love, or you hate. If you are from Melbourne, or follow the AFL in any way, you would be lead into knowing who I follow without me saying anything more.

But today, I tell you bang smack in your face, that I am a proud supporter of the Collingwood Magpies.

I always have been. But as I said above, like their colours, you are either white for them, or black against them. Because of the sheep mentality of many AFL fans, where they think it is cool to collectively hate on the most popular team of the AFL, people jump on this unfair bandwagon and throw shit at the club and it’s supporters, only because they feel threatened. It’s easy to hate on another team, instead of focusing on the strength (or lack of, which is where the insecurity comes from) of your own team.

Ok, rant over. But you get my point. Because of this constant negative attention, and because I was in the midst of some new people, I dismissed my devotion to the club, saying that I hadn’t been into the AFL so much this year, and was not following the matches as much as in previous years.

Which was true. I was so busy with other things in life that I genuinely wasn’t watching many games. But the main point, was that I was apologetic for my devotion to them. And I was avoiding the ugly head that would undoubtedly rear in light of my devotion. Sure enough, a snarky comment followed from one said newbie: “don’t bother following them this year, they’re not going anywhere (near the top of the ladder).”

I went home later that day, and told the following story to Hubbie. I was teary. Not for Collingwood. Whatever. You can’t make everyone love you, or the choices you make, or the things you follow, or what you’re passionate about, right?

I was upset at myself. I recalled the story to him, telling him I was upset that I was avoiding the point of who I followed. I also recalled the story, of a little encounter that happened YEARS ago, but nevertheless an encounter that had stuck in my head, because I guess I hadn’t understood it at the time. We had been at an engagement party, and a girl we were speaking to at our table, asked me what my star sign was. And I, the proud Lioness that I am, responded with a silly shrug and said “Leo.”

Hubbie jumped on this indecision immediately. “Why do you say it like that? Like it’s bad?”

I tried to explain it away, by saying “oh, you know how Leos sometimes get a bad rap for being full on…”

I was apologising, for being born in August. I was apologising, for having the best damn star sign there is. I was apologising, for being me.

I recounted all this to Hubbie and said I was shitty with myself. It was not good enough. I was letting myself down.

I think it all leads to insecurity and wanting to constantly please people. Not wanting to upset people. Not wanting to make others mad. Not wanting to say and do anything that might make someone cranky with me. I’m a people pleaser, and yet I’m also sensitive, which means I know how it feels to be hurt easily… therefore I don’t want to be the one that hurts others.

It goes right down to the smallest things. Not speaking up because I might offend someone, when really all I would probably say is to set a fact straight, like telling the  barista they got my coffee wrong. I say sorry, when I walk into a person who I didn’t see… they also didn’t see me, and they weren’t sorry, so why should I be?

Someone saying sorry to me for getting in my way… and then I’ll say sorry back, because they’re sorry! Even justifying, is something I am DONE with.

“I just work 2 days a week.”

“I just did the grocery shopping.”

“I just wanted to get you something for your birthday.”

NO. It should be more like this:

“I work 2 days a week, because the other days are spent raising a small human.”

“I did the grocery shopping and it was a task while I wrangled a climbing, running, easily bored toddler with me the whole time, but I did it, and I did it successfully with minimal yelling and threats.”

“I wanted to get you this gift because I think you’re great, but so I am, because who else would remember to give you a present 3 months after the fact, and not be embarrassed it’s delay?”

You know what, I don’t even have to justify. To over-compensate my words. Just removing the ‘just’ in the first example is enough. But I’m trying to show something here. I’m trying to show that due to my need to people-please, and my inner insecurities, I tend to apologise, a lot. Some of it came from me. And not laying blame, but I can’t deny that A LOT of it came from being in the close company of the greatest narcissist I know. Even that sounds like a compliment, and I definitely don’t wanna hand her any of those and inflate her ego even more. But being forced into hearing about this person’s life difficulties, their high-maintenance ideals and life choices, their constant negative battles, their obsession with how good they are and how our earth rotates around htem, affected me in such a profound and deep way, that I swore vehemently that I would never, ever be like her. Not one bit. Not at all. Not ever.

Self-awareness was the key to my awakening. I have always been aware of my weakness, but when I had to apologise for liking the ‘Pies, I was so mad. I swear. A footy team woke me up to my inner dealings, and I decided that I should never have to be sorry for anything in my life. Nor should anyone ever be. We all have our personal thoughts, emotions, likes and dislikes, and ways of being, and these are the things that make us unique. They make us who we are.

I wanted to be like the people I looked up to. I wanted to be an unapologetic bitch like Madonna, and actually live her words to one of my many favourite songs of hers

“And I’m not sorry.

It’s human nature.”

It so is.

Recently, I’ve been making changes. It’s been a subconscious process, but because I’m making little positive changes to what I normally would have done, I am really noticing them in my day to day activities. Yesterday, when we sat down for coffee, I asked the waiters to clean the table from the previous customers there. Normally I would have dealt with it as is, not wanting to trouble the waiters or appear difficult.

Today, I called the I.T. department at work due to a computer fault. Normally I would have waited for someone else to call up when they came across it – I would have shirked the responsibility of it. But I called, and while I did I also asked for a replacement keyboard, because my current one had dodgy keys.

People now pass me, and if they get in my way and say sorry, I just nod.

I’m not endorsing being rude, or making people move mountains for you while you sit back, filing your claws. I’m talking about voicing your opinion, being YOU, and if you do that while being nice and giving a smile, as I did with all of the above, people will actually want to help you. You won’t be putting them out with your request. They’ll be glad to help you, because of your sincerity.

But, backtrack. Quite accidentally, I got my first opportunity about a week ago, with that person who had told me to give up on Collingwood this season. We were at work, and while making small conversation she asked me “who do you follow? have I asked you this?”

And with a smile, I said “the Pies.” A warm, self-assured smile. I had come full circle, and I was glad to have redeemed my self-worth and self-esteem. She didn’t know it, but I achieved a lot that day. I’m still learning, and I’m still travelling… but like the Leonine Collingwood supporter I am, the only direction is up.

I’m sorry… that it took me this long. But I’m not sorry anymore.

images1

(not my pic, and I’m totally not sorry either… unless this is yours and then thank you so much 🙂

 

 

How to do Port Douglas in 4 nights (with kids) – Part 1

(Travelled: Jan ’16)

It’s been several months now since our tropical getaway, and yet the memories of that trip have not ceased to stand out in the forefront of our minds. Port Douglas was a place I had always longed to go to, and now that I have, I can share it with all of YOU, all the amazing and unforgettable (and difficult) aspects. This information is for all local, national and international visitors alike, as the varied accent in those Northern parts was not uncommon, let me tell you! We travelled with baby girl, 2 years old at the time, so I can also give some advice as to how to go about your days with a toddler… it ain’t easy, but it sure was fun!

Travel + Transport

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We flew from Melbourne to Cairns, meant to be just over a 3 hour trip, though on that occasion the flight was slightly less. We had organised car hire from Cairns, so that we could do the drive up on our terms. There are shared transfer options up to Port Douglas (an hour by car if there are no stops) but having done that for our Noosa trip years ago, we knew that there was the possibility of the van stopping as it picked up other passengers, and we didn’t want to risk upsetting baby girl with the potential delay that could cause. Plus, being in a car of our own, meant we could stop if we absolutely had to, and as it was, she fell asleep for some of the way which was great.

I had read that the drive from Cairns to Port Douglas was a scenic one, and sure enough, that promise delivered. Serene bayside views, picturesque backdrops, driving through quaint beachside villages, people wearing not much but thongs and singlets, and trees trees trees. It was very wind-y. As in winding around and around and around (and around!) the hills to get there.

About 20 minutes away from our destination we got an onslaught of rain. Only this wasn’t just an onslaught, this was a tropical storm of mammoth proportions. We had heard of the tropical rain at that time of year, and wondered if that would be the norm for the rest of our trip. Luckily, no. We got a bit more rain while there, but very minimal, and nothing like what we had driven through. So if driving up at the start of the year, be careful.

Having a car allowed us the luxury of being able to go about wherever we wanted, without having to rely on public transport and the often inconveniences of waiting for it with a toddler. Even though we were situated in the middle of Macrossan Street, we still ended up using the car a fair bit. Consider it if you are with children. We had a child seat added for baby girl, and just make sure there are no km limits with the car you hire, since you would be travelling an hour to and from Port Douglas to Cairns (not including additional travel around the area) it does add up. (And remember to return the car with fuel!)

Accommodation

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We stayed at Saltwater Luxury Apartments, situated right in the middle of Macrossan Street. We had parking underneath the premises, and there is a shared pool for holiday stayers to use, which we did, twice. It wasn’t an Olympic-sized pool, but it was enough. Baby girl squealed with delight and tried to break in every day, so = Pass.

We had a two-bedroom apartment overlooking the main street, which meant at night things got noisy! Our room was closer to the street, with baby girl’s closer to the entrance door which was nearer the other apartments and the shared corridor between them. On several occasions, people coming home would think it acceptable to talk loudly with one another in the corridor before walking into their apartment, despite all the other nearby stayers! On night 1 we discovered ‘the birds,’ loud riotous birds that sang almost all night, there must have been at least 50 of them, and they sounded like they were outside our room. “Don’t birds sleep?” Hubbie and I asked each other at 1am. Along with this there was the noise that eventually waned off from the below restaurant, Bel Cibo, with the kitchen staff cleaning and washing up and making all kinds of racket until they left the premises about midnight.

So, it was a noisy place to stay. I was slightly nervous because I was worried baby girl would wake up from the noise. And she did wake up, but not from the noise… she was just unsure of her surroundings when she opened her eyes in the middle of the night.

It is a fantastic place, if you want to be in the heart of it all, and be able to walk to everything. In fact, you could base your holiday around Macrossan Street, and just go everywhere on foot, especially if you have no kiddies… but then you would miss out on Mossman Gorge. Oh man you don’t want to miss out on that one.

So, great location, but noisy at night. Parents may find it a bit annoying with the constant racket, but then again, it was high season, at the start of January. The 2 bedroom apartment was like a little house, with bathrooms adjoining both rooms, a kitchen aside a kitchen table and then the lounge room, and there was an outside enclosed area that you could sit and view the diners at Bel Cibo and people walking on Macrossan Street below. They are like little houses because you can hire them out for long stays. Definitely a great idea, especially when we go back again with our extended family 🙂

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Weather

If you are going to Port Douglas, be mindful of this: you will be hot. Not like ‘oooh, I think I might change into shorts’ hot, I’m talking humidity seeping into every crevice of your body, overcoming and suffocating you, sweat trickling down the bridge of your nose, give-me-that-pitcher-of-water-so-I-can-throw-it-over-my-head, type hot. Baby girl found it uncomfortable, as she seemed cranky on many an occasion, except for when she was in the water. Then it was bliss for her (and us). I didn’t pack anything long-sleeved or long-panted; it was light and airy all the way. I did pack insect repellent for the rainforests, but I never used it, and we never needed it either. Sunscreen is a must too.

I mean, there’s a reason why all the restaurants have fans.

Food

We ate at many great places while in Port Douglas. I’ll list them by my personal lowest to highest ranking, and note that you can click on each name which links to my actual food review post on the restaurant in question, for a more in-depth analysis of our dining experience there:

Rattle ‘n’ Hum – casual dining where you order your food at the counter.

Bel Cibo – fine dining with great views over Macrossan Street. Lots of accents here.

Whileaway Bookstore and Café – great mishmash of literature and lattes. Coffee was ok, books and surroundings were heaven.

Little Larder – These guys kind of tie with Watergate below. Funky vibe, the place to go, great coffee, food, and service. Gold.

Watergate – Fine dining, but add exclusivity. Fire, fans and all you need is Gorillas (see my review for an explanation!) Amazing food, I will be going back for the coffee and dessert! Loved.

A notable mention goes to Mocka’s Pies which we had one day for lunch. We had coffee and cake there on Day 2 –

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and then later Hubbie got some takeaway pies. Their pies are meant to be some of the best going around, and from the few we tried back at Saltwater, we could tell it was true. We shared a Steak pie (the one with the X)

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A green chicken curry pie

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And a corn and asparagus pie

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The latter pie was perhaps a questionable one, only because it wasn’t to our taste, but the first two were really delicious. I’m not a traditional pie fan, so I love it when I find pies with fillings that aren’t filled with offcuts and random bits and pieces just to fill it in. We were really happy with this find.

I don’t have the names of the other places we got takeaway food at, but one place we grabbed toasted sandwiches and steak sandwiches from was just up from Mocka’s Pies in Grant Street, but closer to the Macrossan Street end. They were ok, just as our fried rice and noodles was ok nights later from a restaurant somewhere around there too! There are so many options in that part of Port Douglas, you can afford to be fussy.

There was also a nearby Safeway, and a couple of liquor shops if you’re taking away to eat/drink at home. If you’re staying in this part of Port Douglas, it’s easy to buy anything you need and just walk on back to your accommodation to enjoy in your own private space. Super convenient surrounds.

 

Stay tuned for Part 2 of my Port Douglas 4 night guide where I discuss the amazing! and so-so Attractions we came across… coming very soon.

 

Women vs. Men #3

Scene 1. When I am driving the car, and baby girl is whining and crying.

“Baby girl, stop it! Stop crying, why are you crying?”

Hubbie.

“I don’t know why you’re upset, I just ignore her. We’ll be home soon.”

Scene 2. 24 hours later. Hubbie is driving the car.

Baby girl: whining, crying, yelling, da da da!!!! (repeat endlessly).

Hubbie – “Oh my God she is doing my head in, I can’t take it.”

I sit forward. “Are you serious now?!”

Women vs. Men, part 3.

Blind Love/Hate

Isn’t it funny how

We’re aware of our partners weaknesses

yet we continue to excuse them

Explain them away

Justify them

to ourselves

to others

to the World

Their characters

Their behaviours

The words they speak

It all has a reason, doesn’t it?

 

Aloof – “He only has time for his circle of friends.”

Moody – “He works too much, doesn’t get enough sleep.”

Loose with words – “He likes to speak his mind.”

Uptight – “It’s only because she values tradition.”

Judgmental – “She’s hard on others because she’s hard on herself.”

 

Is love that blind?

Or are we too critical with indifference?

 

(Actually he’s egocentric;

Actually he’s insulting;

Actually he’s heartless;

Actually she’s choleric;

Actually she’s sanctimonious).

 

Should we be harder on our partners

and kinder to strangers?

Should we expect more of those dearest to us

and let the others look after their own, withholding all judgment?

Should hate be blind?

… now that’s a thought.

 

 

When you are a writer…

and you’ve been sitting at your computer for a while, and inspiration is lacking in your head, and your fingers don’t hit at the keypad properly, words like remainding suddenly appear to be gramattically correct, until the red line appears under remainding, and you highlight it and you go ‘oh that’s right, it’s remaining.’ And then you question whether it’s two ts, or ms or ls in gramattically, and which is meant to go where, and you refuse to put the comma between the t and s even though the spellcheck is going bezerk, but you tell the spellcheck that it’s not a possessive its a plural so suck that, then you ask yourself ‘how does one spell bezerk?’ And begin a google chase over its origins and find out it is actually a word in the dictionary and is spelt berserk, and does not have a z making it all rap/hipster. Then you wonder why you even thought it was urban, the term berserk, and remember that urban dictionary website that you once checked out telling you about all the street lingo, and discover the term ‘procaffenating’ which pretty much means “But first, coffee” but less poshy. Then you realise the computer has gone all red line on you again, and instead of writing your novel you have been googling and procrastinating with terms like procaffenating and have just come upon the term ‘jeanjerking,’ and seriously now it is time to go.