Rose-Tinted Lenses

My dad bought our very first camcorder in 1997. We were late to the whole home video thing, but once had, we sure made up for it.

Over the last few days, I've been backing up all the grainy footage shot on our old Video-8 cassette tapes over to DVDs. Not an easy task considering there are more than 30 of them... each at least an hour and a half long. As a consequence, I've watched plenty of home videos.

My favourites are the Christmas ones, which has become a tradition in our household. Started in the same year we got the video camera, we've filmed every year without fail, usually beginning four days before Christmas and finishing up just before midnight on the day. The big highlight is when we gather around the tree in the morning to open presents. A fun affair for all its anticipated, hurried craziness.

Aside from the typical scenes of Christmas trees and Christmas Day fare, here are some of the things I've observed that invariably happens every year at ours:

• Candid (and usually stolen) shots of feet and toes, accompanied by my sister's behind-the-scene commentaries and giggles.
• Someone being grumpy for being woken up early (me).
• Waiting impatiently for Mum to get ready and join the rest of the family to open presents.
• Sister annoyingly sing-songing "Who wants to go first, my darling? Who wants to go first?" and screaming indiscriminately out of excitement.
• Brother chucking his opened boxes, ripped up wraps, and recycled ribbons at sister.
• Mum getting overly excited and doing some kind of a funky-arse chicken dance.
• And Dad getting shafted with his presents.

Definitely some unique and odd antics involved, sometimes embarrassing, but often fits-of-laughter inducing. I think what I've enjoyed the most seeing is the joy and happiness that were present on everyone's faces - happy, perfect little family vignettes. It's made me wish to go back and relive it, enough that I've gotten a real palpable sense of desperation for it... But then I realise that yearning for those days and feeling sad that things are no longer the way they were is simply futile, because a) I would always feel the same way any time I reminisce, and b) there's always going to be a chance to do it again anyway... like this coming Christmas, for example. So, I guess, the lesson that I took away from this experience, despite the clichéd nature of it, is to live and cherish the moment... And to always have a camcorder on hand.

Anyway, not sure if this is at all relevant or making sense to any of you guys out there but I thought I'd share one of the things that I truly appreciated while growing up.

The View From The Top

Typical lazy Sunday afternoon at a not-so-typical venue.

52nd floor apartment at the Eureka Tower, Melbourne's tallest residential building. Sweet views from atop the crystal palace.

Vertigo inducing.

Bitch Please... I'm from the Westside

Early morning jaunt to Richmond for a spot of furniture shopping with friend, J.

Inside a boutique - and rather over-priced - homewares retailer. A Kath and Kim's Trude lookalike at the counter.


Me: Morning.

Trude: Yiiieesss, how can I help yiiou?

Me: That Barcelona chair by the window, how much is it?

Trude: Oiii yahhh, that chair. It's $3000, plus delivery.

Me: And how much is delivery?

Trude: Where iiis it to?

Me: Well, I'm from the western suburbs.

Trude: Ooohh. You're from the wiiiestern suburbs?

Me: Yes.

Trude: And yiiou know about the Barcelona???

Me: Well, it's a step up from the milk crates, but yes, I know about Barcelona chairs.

Trude: Oohhh... nooo, I didn't mean to...

Me: What? Be a pretentious eastern suburb snob? Oiii yaaahhh, I'm siiiure.


I am so gonna go all "Pretty Woman" on her ignorant arse.

I love me my Barcelona chairs...
even for a Westie.

Lessons (And Brackets)

The rest of the Time Out (as I've dubbed it) went by like a breeze as I got busy with the many odd bits and pieces I've put off from doing. I filed my tax return, cleaned out the fish tank full of comatose fishes, and even alphabetised my DVD collection (I'm anally retentive that way).

Later in the day, I finally got myself to get out of the house and headed out to the local Starbucks to get my fix of the franchised and bastardised version of the caffeine brew. I'm currently hooked on the "limited edition" double mocha macchiato (just for you, Sebastiane). I like coffee with my sugar.

Knowing that I was chilling for a few days, one of my brother's friends messaged me to kick it with them for a few hours at their place, so I headed out their way. My little brother moved out almost a year ago and he, along with his partner and friend, have been living it up on their own. I find their living arrangement interesting (and a little desiring). Theirs is a tight group, welcoming and laid back. And although there is the odd tension here and there with regards to domestic responsibilities, overall they seem to have things sorted.

This would have been about my fourth time over despite the fact that it's been months since they've moved in. That's not as bad as you might think considering I didn't think I'd ever visit at all. You see, not long ago, my brother and I had a terrible falling out and we didn't speak for a long time. On top of that, I vowed never to befriend his partner ever again.

But how times have changed... and how it's softened hearts. The grudge I held for the two of them is now gone and things couldn't be better.

"I saw M the other night at a party," my brother said of a friend he himself hadn't spoken to in years (they almost got into a punch-up).

"Yeah? Was there tension?"

"No. We were fine actually. Had a chat and even laughed."

"That's good."

"And you know why that happened?," asked his partner out loud.

"Nope. Why?"

"It's something he learnt from you..."

"I didn't want to keep holding on a grudge," my brother answered.

"So, you let it go?"

"Yep, let it go."

"Good for you."

I've come to realise that sometimes we need a little bit of tension and drama in our lives (a catalysmic event even) in order for certain things to change and move on to the next level. Sure, sometimes this might not result in anything ideal, and sometimes things mightn't even change at all, but once in a while, when good intentions win out, it can actually lead to something better and rewarding.

That's a lesson I'm learning to recognise in many forms and evidently, a lesson that keeps on teaching.

(End)

Working On It

Day one of my sabbatical away from work and things are a little better.

I don't feel so bad today as I did last night and haven't thought about the issue as much as it permeated every thought yesterday. I also received a few text messages and emails from colleagues and friends from the gym, so I guess the word's out.

It's a little weird to be home at the start of the week when I'm usually pimping it at work. Not sure what to do so I've been spending some time (a lot) on Facebook and watching daytime television.

I caught this midday movie - a British flick called Saving Grace. It's a story about how a small-town English widow, facing financial troubles after her husband's suicide, turns to agriculture of an illegal kind as a plan to get out of her debts. It's a gem of a movie. Old biddies stoned and acting like Beavis and Butthead is seriously funny shit.

I realise that my last several posts have been filled with negativity and I guess it's symptomatic of the way I've been feeling and thinking. I sense a change from that, thankfully, but I don't think it'll be immediate. So, I guess, what I'm saying is please bear with me a little longer... I'm working on it.

Monday Meltdown

Worst.Monday.Ever.

I completely lost it on a client today and let rip a barrage of choice words on her that I didn't realise I would ever say to anybody let alone on someone at work. To be honest, the bitch deserved it - she's been a complete nightmare right from the beginning, asking for preferential treatments, difficult to deal with and generally being a right royal pain in the arse. A diva with horrible over-bleached hair and a muffin top outfit.

The shit finally hit the fan when I sat her down to discuss the ongoing billing problems we've been having with her accounts. She is in arrears for several weeks due to continuing failed debits. When she saw the itemised amounts owing, she baulked and refused to pay for several Personal Training sessions, of which I'd personally especially organised at her request, claiming that she never had them.

That's when I realised that enough was enough.

Despite being over-understanding and bending over backwards at her every request for the last several weeks, she neither appreciated the effort nor was satisfied with any of them. In fact, she was still complaining! The result: 15 minutes of slagging match that saw spittle fly, faces flushed and her giving me the finger as she left the Club.

I was left shaken and shocked. Normally cool-headed, poised and in control, I couldn't believe that I'd let her get under my skin that way. I should have known better. My manager has since spoken to her and whilst he stood up for his employee, I could sense that he was far from impressed. To be honest, I feel a little angry at him - I've asked a while ago for him to mediate the issue but he never got around to it until it was too late...

I've been carrying a lot of tension and anger lately - from whatever cause, I'm not too sure - and it all finally culminated with my little episode this morning. Now, I'm feeling really disconcerted and embarrassed for my actions. I've taken the next few days off as stress leave and hopefully soon, I'd be able to finally stop thinking about the horrible incident when I finally had a complete meltdown.

Puke Me A River

Q. What happens when someone who's been tee-totalling the last couple of months suddenly goes on a big night out of serious beer imbibing and drunken feet shuffling?

A. About 5 litres of stomach content flowing down an inner city street somewhere.

Sorry if I got some on your car, Jug.

M&M's Anonymous

I'm so addicted to M&M's that I can eat a whole bucket in one sitting, even though I know that I'll feel bloated and sick the next day. Upset tummy aside, I also know that it's filled with empty calories that isn't doing my fitness training any good. Still, I can't help myself. They're just too darn yummy...

This is usually the point where I'd make a somewhat insightful (or salient, take your pick) observation. Something like despite knowing how certain things can be bad for you, one still can't resist having it.

And I'd also probably follow it up with an example. Oh, say maybe how a certain guy keeps insisting on messaging me to catch up even though I always come up with an excuse not to be able to make it. Away. Asleep. Out of town. Dead. Well, maybe not that last one but almost. The dude can't take a hint and he inevitably gets upset every time. The reason why I won't meet him is a moot point, but let's just say that he's a right royal pain in the arse to be with. I should just tell him to piss off, but I'm not c*nty like that.

Anyway, so I'd probably do all that in this post if I had the time, but I'm off to the Witness Protection Party tonight and my ride's already here tooting his horn.

So... have a great weekend everyone!

Comeback Interruptus

Britney releases a surprisingly good song with Gimme More and her fans scream "Comeback"! They obviously didn't count on her doing a live performance.

Even Milli Vanilli would be embarrassed.

Amnesia, Muffins and Chinese Whispers

I hate how I can't remember the next day the sentences that I write in my head the night before when I'm driving home from the radio station. The late evening solitary experience somehow induces a spontaneous surge of literary inspiration. I've written whole posts in my head only to lose it the next morning when I'm about to type it out on a keyboard. I ought to carry a dictaphone, but I can't get over thinking that those things are real lame and so I can never bring myself to use one.

In any case, last night's prose began with a sweeping and witty opening on why I haven't been blogging of late. Obviously, that's not the case as you can see.

Yes, I have been neglecting my blogging duties - even for a secret blog. No excuse for it really. Well, apart from the terminal amnesia. Just been feeling generally flat and uninspired. So please accept my apologies, my dutiful readers. All 4.2 of you.

Seriously, I've been a little run down. Tired, emotional and feeling real blah. The whole oral ordeal - the tongue ulcer, cold sore and sore throat - was definitely a symptom of that. Not sure what's causing it: over-training, change in seasons, lack of sleep... or sex... who knows?! I guess I should still count myself pretty lucky though since every person and their dog around me seem to be doing it worse having contracted the rather nasty flu that's doing the rounds. Meanwhile, to stave off the blah-ness, I'm like Izzie from Grey's Anatomy. I've been baking muffins.

But getting back to the topic of secret blogs, certain people are cottoning on to Joshua. Which makes me wonder, who's been talking???

Holding My Tongue

It's been three days and I still can't talk or eat properly. I have a massive ulcer on the side of my tongue and it's excruciating. What started off as a little blister late Saturday, grew four times in size by Monday. Now, even the smallest attempt at speaking or chewing brings tears to the eyes. I've been reduced to living on mushy food like a toothless baby and have grunts, nods and moans for replies.

It's not all bad I guess, as unbelievable as it is with the pain, I've found that there is an upside. I've learnt how true the saying "silence is golden" really is, but probably not in the way you might think.

In the past few days of my forced silence, I've been admired for my attentiveness, patience and even my tenacious listening skills. If they only knew what I was really saying in my head, then they wouldn't be so forthcoming with the superlatives.

You become very aware of many things one might usually miss when a voice is readily available to rely on. For example, people seem to have a general aversion to silence and will try, subconsciously or otherwise, to fill the void with noise, either with nonsense ranting or more of the same conversation. I noticed this the other day when a friend of mine was counting off her many reasons for not liking a particular person we knew. She must have felt that my not answering her was a way of not validating her responses because she kept rattling on. In the end, I realised that she was actually making herself believe her own excuses.

And conversely, how amazing it is to learn how to economise your words. To say as little as possible but pass on a multitude of meanings. The right combination of head turns, finger actions and simple grunts can convey so much... and so variedly that it's fun to see what the reply would be.

But the icing on the cake has to be when some stranger started talking loudly at me because I was giving her non-verbal responses. I dunno whether she thought I was dumb and therefore deaf, but um, hello? I can understand fine, just not saying a word. Sheesh.

At least, I still have the power of the written word to adequately express myself. And what's even better is I have my new laptop... sorry, notebook to do it with. I have a new baby to play with and it is beautiful. Yesterday, I spent the afternoon out in the backyard, sitting in the sun and wirelessly interneting until dusk. It was bliss.

The only thing that would have made it better was if I had someone else to bring me mushy food and cool drinks when needed. Vanilla ice cream and iced lemon tea... served by a topless, sexy houseboy. Hmmm... yes, because that would have cured all sorts of ails.

Follow Your Passion

In my previous life before becoming a Personal Trainer, I worked in the Finance industry as a Financial Planning Consultant. It was interesting work that often proved challenging. I was fast-tracked into the role, after being employed only a couple of years at the bank, and was especially promoted in the then pilot team. Sadly, I left the much demanding position eight months later due to too much stress and horrible office politics.

In the meanwhile, I continued to spend time at the gym to de-stress and there I found my passion in health and fitness. I studied a Personal Training course through the gym I'm working for and eventually got my certification a few years ago. I've loved it ever since and never looked back.

When I tell people about my move from the Finance sector to the Fitness industry, I often meet looks of disbelief as they must think I'm crazy for letting a relatively high-paying job go. Sure, the money was great and so were the fringe benefits, but none of that really mattered much when I was fighting ill-health and anxiety attacks. Something had to give - and I didn't want to end up with lots of wealth but no health to enjoy it with. Hence the reason for the career change... Still, sometimes I wonder if I've done the right thing.

Last night, a couple of my friends and I went to see Katie Noonan at the Forum. Katie is from a home-grown band called George and her musical stylings lean towards the alternative-folk genre, which suits her evocative, soulful and, at times, melancholic voice to a tee. Equally, the punters are also of the varied kind... and queer. Sitting in what must have been the gay section of the theatre, I noticed that one of the girls out of the lesbian couple canoodling in front of us looked familiar and remembered that she was a colleague from the bank. After some trepidatious introduction and establishing some semblance of familiarity by trying to work out who worked with who, she asked me a question through the din of the music and crowd:

"So, what made you leave?"

I gave her the answer I've become used to giving but she cut me off before I could go into my spiel.

"No, I already know the reasons why most leave. I asked 'when'?"

"2003."

"Oh, good. You left just before it really turned into shits."

She told me how the culture within the bank gradually changed from that of people first to profit first. And how several others also left when the volume of work being given eventually out-paced the renumerations being paid. She herself had just handed her resignation that day, after sticking it out for several more years, and is due to work in the IT industry in a few weeks. She looked real happy.

And just like that, the niggling voice that was never far from the back of my mind, that often questioned my decision, that made me doubt my actions... it suddenly disappeared. And in its place left a confirmation of what I always felt was right.

Follow your passion.