A year in the life of an Australian writer in Ireland.
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Friday, July 25, 2003

Bad tum
I may have over-indulged. Eaten too much, too soon. Or something. The upshot? Tummy trouble.

I hate throwing up. Am I the only one? I have an exceptional aversion to this helpless, involuntary, totally bodily thing that one has no control over. That being said, I felt better once I did vom.

Speaking of girly, I also had a pedicure and manicure. I also nearly fainted because of previously-mentioned tummy upset, which the poor manicurist misinterpreted to mean that, as I had just mentioned to her that this was my first nail-grooming experience, I was a fragile flower unable to handle it.

The best times so far are sitting under Ma's mango tree, feeling the breeze cooling down the hot day, as we gossip and reminisce.

Friday, July 18, 2003

Well
I'm here! And it's hotter than ever.

This time around, it seems more like a pilgrimage. My mother now has a house in Marikina, one of the places of my childhood, so I can go around and walk around the same rooms, walk the same path, things that are really not the same. Everything's shrunk down to a less scary size. Funny how age and travel does that.

It has also become more populous than in my memory of it. More houses, more life!

My mother's house has quite an Edenic garden. She grows mangoes (yum!), peanut plants, sweet potato, aratilis, coconuts, papaya, chilli, eggplant (aubergine to everyone else), and others I can't seem to remember now. I've been having such a great time, eating all the food I grew up with.

For lunch, I had barbecued fish with rice, pork with Chinese glass noodles and arroz caldo. Yah! And! A really super-duper mango, which I just slurped on down. Mmm. Heaven? Yes. My mum laughed to see me go back to the peelings to make sure I got every last morsel in my mouth.

At this rate, I'm going to get tubby.

So now I'm here to spend more of my hard-earned cash.

Ma and I are going to Zamboanga next week to visit her relatives for a few days. I'll be paying for the plane flight, which is a nice thing to be able to do for her (for us!). She wants to show my the family plot, on which she had spent a lot of time and effort, bringing all the bones and whatnot from various places into the one spot.

Should be an interesting time, anyway.

Tuesday, July 15, 2003

Want to know?
These movies are my in-flight entertainment.

Oh, poop.
Girlism to Overtake Feminism
Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod!

Would you mind if I just went totally girly here? I so hope the flight shows Legally Blonde 2.

Please don't throw tomatoes at me. I'm serious. I love the first one, and I sincerely pray the next one is just as good.

Hey, my needs are simple.
Doorstep goodbyes
I've just said my doorstep goodbyes to Mark. I'm a bit sad, but I guess also quite excited. A strange mixture. This time, going away is different, more for the purpose of a holiday, of imposing a delineation between one stage and another. Between the end of one job, and the start of something hopefully better.

I hope everything goes okay.

Sunday, July 13, 2003

Conclusions and Introductions
No more bookshop for me.

I met one of the new members of staff yesterday. She seemed nice and I wished her luck, in that banal, well-meaning way we all do. I was given my presents and a group of us toodled down to a bar for a drink. Was it just me, or was it mostly punctuated with uncomfortable silences, punctured only when one of us poked fun at our old managers?

So now begins the serious business of travel. I had an attack of nerves yesterday afternoon, just thinking about what I have to remember to do. But then it just faded away like a silly dream. It'll all work itself out.

The reason I'm willing to do this trip alone is because I'm familiar with all the airports I'll be passing through. Dublin Airport, Heathrow, Hong Kong, then Manila. Know them all. As long as there are decent in-flight movies, I'll be a happy lassie.

Oh! Do you think they'll be showing The Hulk during the flight? That'd be so cool!

Friday, July 11, 2003

Interview interlude
I'm looking for work at the mo. Today, I send off my curriculum vitae to any number of (dis)interested parties, and see who might bite the little bait.

Yesterday, I went to an interview. It was more like a chat, which is really the best way to go about it, I think.

I'm not sure I want to work in a bookshop anymore, though. So, I'll probably accept the job, if it was offered, but I'd be plumping for a position in publishing.

*sigh* Getting to where you want to be is one tough cookie.
A first
I've not travelled internationally by myself before.

I guess leapfrogging State by State in Australia is good practice for that, though, with the distance quite equivalent to crossing several countries, especially compared to here in Europe.

Maybe this is the start of a groovy jetsetting lifestyle.

Or maybe not.

Wednesday, July 09, 2003

Add this
Oh, the doona is wonderful.
Quiet, you
Man, I hate phones, and I hate dealing with strange people.

I wonder if anybody else shares the same phobia I do. I could never do a call-centre job. Weird people ringing me up. Me ringing up weird people. Too much!

That's why I got Mark to arrange all my bookings. Ah, bless... But today, I had to deal with a stranger. I had to ask questions. And sort things out. And organise. And all that.

It was easier than I thought it would be. I guess sometimes my mind makes oak trees out of acorns.

Speaking of weirdness, Mark just emailed me this weird article. You got it here first, folks! (Well, okay, secondhand. Maybe third-hand. Fourth-generation at the most.)

Sunday, July 06, 2003

You say doona, I say duvet
Call me Australian, but I don't think I'll ever shake this particular quirk and start calling doonas duvets.

Where the heck did the word doona come from, anyway? Sounds like an Aboriginal word. After some vigourous (hmm, did I spell that word right?) search-engine worrying, I came up with this:
New Shorter Oxford English Dictionary

DOONA: (capitalised) noun, Australian. Also d-. Late 20th century [Perhaps from Swedish language ‘dun’ down.] (Proprietary name for) a quilted eiderdown [a quilt filled with the soft feathers from the breast of the eider (large northern sea duck) with which it lines its nest] or duvet [a thick soft quilt].



Macquarie Dictionary – Australia’s National Dictionary
DOONA (not capitalised) noun Australian; continental quilt [trademark]



Australian-American Dictionary
DOONA (not capitalised) noun: = comforter in US: Quilted eiderdown with a down or synthetic filling. ‘Doona’ is a Trade name, ‘Doona’ is apparently used in Australia only, and is unknown in New Zealand and Britain, let alone the US.
—[from this source]
So, what has brought this on? Mark and I are currently wrestling over the important dilemma of a couple sharing a single-sized doona. Problem is, one of us ends up getting cold feet over it.

So today, we're going to buy one. Huzzah!

My life is full of incredible minutae.

Friday, July 04, 2003

Goody
Another day off today. Wandering around a tiny part of Dublin, sorting out how to pay Cathay Pacific, a lot of finagling with a friend's credit card (because I don't own one), and so on.

I am eating apricot jam on toast for lunch. Plus, I have two videos (The Apartment with Jack Lemmon, and American Werewolf in London) and numerous books waiting upstairs. Cruisy days are cool.

Thursday, July 03, 2003

Just lost a damn entry...

That is just such a major suck.

Tuesday, July 01, 2003

Leaving on a jet-plane
My job at the bookshop is finishing up soon, then I'll be off to Manila to see my mum. I must admit I'm looking forward to that, but this is tempered with the reality that I'll have to look for a new job when I get back.

Still, if I can find a job within three days of being in a new country, then I'm optimistic.

Yay!