Sunday, August 26, 2012

All We Really Are is Matter, But Really? Who Matters?

Today I've been in Massachusetts for two weeks since leaving my husband  <aww>  in Australia due to immigration concerns. I'm staying with someone I'd call my best friend, but 'best friend' doesn't seem to do our friendship justice. She recently bought a house with her better half and together, and with their two dogs of course, they invited me temporarily, and after a while, have said I can stay longer. When I wanted to discuss rent the conversation was a surprising one; They'd not considered charging me any and I wouldn't accept 'no rent' as an option. A truly unique agreement and discussion ensues. In what world does your host tell you your twelve week stay is for gratis? In which parallel world does the guest insist on paying rent and expenses? Certainly this has never happened on my doorstep or when I step on someone else' welcome mat. They're truly excellent hosts, and if you know me personally you know who they are, no one needs to be mentioned by name with the exception of the dogs who go by the names Bruno and Bernie McLovin. You can't make this sh#t up, can you?

My room is the 'man cave' of the house, I say this so you know that someone has made a major concession in my staying here. Truly a good guy letting the male friend of his female partner stay in the only place he can escape to a wonderful  land complete with a large flat screen television, a leather recliner, and a door; A door that can shut out  estrogen, essence of canine, or any other outer turbulence, I can't thank him enough, or even correctly. Neither of us communicate very well verbally so it's hopefully a given that one person is generous and the other is appreciative. The door shuts, I am able to escape into what seems to be too many television channels on an Australian level, and I can miss John to my heart's content and make appearances and conversation on a basis that is mutually acceptable. Have you ever tried to host people who require too much micromanagement? You wind up wishing they'd  leave sooner than they ever will. Have you ever tried to stay with people who plan every minute of your stay resulting in the need for a rest when you return home? You wind up wishing you never went as soon as you ever did.

I find it funny that whenever I leave the cave to enter to the house, the dogs seem to not remember that I ever arrived. They are as fiercely defensive as two very small dogs can be given my large stature, and to see a strange long haired, bearded, and what I call 'stocky' individual entering their domain they are vocal in their serious yet humorous system of protecting their loved ones and their many possessions. The are defensive every time I enter as well, I disappear apparently long enough that they simply forget that I am staying in their home. It could be that I'm just not important enough to them to be memorable, but that would damage my sense of self and I never want to admit to having an ego that is so fragile that two lesser mammals could maim it or chew it in play-like fashion as they do with their squirrel toys and balls.

Today is also the eleventh anniversary date of the passing of my Mom. It's impossible for me to be sad, I do miss her, but all the lady ever did was make me laugh and give me unconditional love while at the same time I remember trying to outsmart her while giving her every gray hair she ever had on her head. I love to tell stories about her, I love to remember her, and she's one of/if not most important person I've been lucky to have in my life. I hate the fact that I can buy an option on my cell phone to talk to my hubby 9000 miles away but there's still no 'celestial' calling plan. I have so many things to say, from the newest jokes and what's happening in my life to snitching on my sister which I probably turned into an art form. My sister has never been a patron of such artwork and when thinking about it I can absolutely understand why.

So, I choose to write today about people who matter in my life. Whether it be people so close that you and they may sometime wish there was more or less space, people with whom there's too much space distancing you and you wish 9000 miles was made more simply passable by teleport all ready, and people with whom there's a complete dimensional and impossible to measure gap that can only seem smaller when you use your imagination and memory, these people are close to you.

When you matter to someone such as your friends, family, and husband it's probably because of something you do or have done. When you don't matter to someone such as two protective canine's who know where all their toys are yet can't remember you exist at all within two hours? Hopefully that's because of something you do or have done and not due to the fact that you were completely forgettable to begin with.

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

The Wedding Video aka How the Hell did I get so Lucky?

Wedding Video.. John and Brian 10/29/2011

This is a very short entry. When I got to Boston, I was happy for about twenty minutes.
I'm very excited to see my friends and to visit places I haven't seen in a long time.
But this video is exactly what my life is about now, and I don't lose sight of it,
and it sustains me and let's me know whatever is happening here it less important than
what I'm missing at home. John, you're nothing short of amazing and I love you.

Copy and paste the above link and you can watch my life become complete in
seven and a half minutes. Shalom

Thursday, August 9, 2012

Bored Views From a Broad... Abroad

Sitting here two days away from my long trip back to the USA, a trip I'm reluctantly making, but making because it's easier to do my final changes in person than by proxy, the phone, or the internet. I think it's funny that the internet will take your credit card as your identity for a multitude of purchases ranging from iTunes to some of the most sordid pornography one has ever accidentally <my story and sticking to it> discovered while Googling. You can't legally change your name in another country, and to be completely honest? I have no Australian healthcare, but pay for American healthcare and my sight woes and sight ability these days are as important as Free HBO you get on cable for those weekend passes..... I want it for as long as it's available, but I won't be surprised the day I find out it's been discontinued with no warning... after all, easy come, easy go, right? But it never hurts to stop by the cable company and apply for an extension.

I've had as much fun as one can have in a new country that's also supposed to have become my home over the last eight or so months, I can now shop and be unapologetic when I push people out of the way to get what to what I want, like say.. the counter. Being rude isn't an instinctive quality, but I prefer 'survival of the fittest', here, if you don't nudge your way in eventually? You're not getting in without assertive tactics... from the teenagers with absolutely no time to spare or the elderly ethnic woman in or out of  the rascal scooter, who also apparently has more pressing issues than you; It's obvious from the way she runs over your toes with not so much as a look in your general direction but the minute the sales clerk says 'Who's next?' and you honestly assert that it was you? That's when you get the look of disdain whether it's from behind a spectacled white haired Aussie woman or the more emotional gaze you receive from someone in a full burka. The eyes really are the windows to the soul after all, aren't they? Do you know what it looks/sounds like when you're receiving a curse from a Greek woman? I do now thanks to my transplantation here, and my inability to be endlessly polite when I too would like to make purchases and return home at an appropriate time to lunch.

I would not like any cheese with my whine today. That's not my point. I'm nearly sure it isn't.

I've decided to make my trip now because under existing law, I need to leave the country for at least ninety days before I can be issued a new Visa. There's a show called 'Custom's Wars' that I watch with fear; Fear that I'm ultimately going to be the next 'contestant' who gets nervous, befuddled, insulted, and turned away at the border of the country that separates my husband from me. Being turned away comes with a bonus prize of a 'three year exclusion', three years without seeing John unless he comes to America may as well be called  'three years without seeing John'. For him it was a nice place to visit, but it's not in his top fifty places that he'd like to return to right away. Dare I have to save money for months on end to be reunited with my loved one in Istanbul? Indonesia? New Zealand? I have no problem going to these places as long as I don't have to speak. Once your American accent is recognized everything is more expensive, everyone talks more quickly so you don't hear ALL the insults, and I have to admit when John and I shop even in Sydney I tend to shut up in spite of my all to ready and willing middle finger which makes appearances by reflex, it's like I honestly have nothing to do with it anymore. It is my alter ego which is unrecognizable only to me. Did you know the middle finger is NOT the universal sign for 'f*ck you'? I can tell you it's not. I had a series of pictures taken of me and when Mr. Middle made his appearances, everyone thought I was pointing and would look in the general direction he was directed at. It's humiliating to not be able to quickly and quietly insult people as you have the right as American to do as well as I once could. I feel less empowered without .. power.

Anyway, after ninety days, I should be able to reenter the country for another questionable period or permanently, depending on the decisions of the parliament, if they decide to act at all or put it off for another year, as happened in 2012. I have however promised not only John and our newly extended family but also dear friends of ours that I would be attending our wedding anniversary, John and I have birthday's separated by only two days in November, there's Christmas on Bondi Beach which is supposed to be a midnite bonfire experience that would be cold if it weren't for the summer weather in Sydney, southern hemisphere capital of the world. Crosby, Still's, and Nash' 'Southern Cross'? Yup, we've got it, though I have to admit the song is better than the actual constellation, which I found boring compared to say 'delphinius' or 'o'rien'. I've also invited and intend to honor introducing all these wonderful new people in my life to a traditional Thanksgiving dinner, complete from the beginning nuts to ending pie. I have a separate entry as far as Thanksgiving food and how I address it. My father worshiped Archie Bunker the way some people here idolize Mohammed, and let's face it, Thanksgiving is this weird holiday with a history of betrayal, underhandedness, accidental intoxication and manipulation of emotions, and separation of good and evil spirits' intentions at the table. That's only in my family Thankgivings, with NO regard whatsoever of the HISTORICAL significances of the holiday. Try explaining to anyone who isn't American why Thanksgiving is a national holiday and make it a game of counting how many times you have to say 'no, you don't understand' before figuring out that you probably don't understand how ruthless and barbaric it is to celebrate it. I'd feel worse about it but hell, we're in sunny Australia and when someone points out how horrible we were to our Nations original civilization at least I have the ability to throw in my two cents about theirs, and we can sit and argue about who treated who worse over too many cocktails, a myriad of food, and a cornucopia of different personalities all ready to chime in their idiotic, drunken opinions. And isn't that what Thanksgiving's always been about? Or was that only at my house? See you in the States, you big old sillies.