I haven't blogged for a while. Its been a pretty turbulent time for us. Mum is sick and we don't really know what might happen there and Hayley continues to savagely beat me with a hammer she nicknamed "Bam Bam". I'm trying to type something out funny here to try and spark me up so apologies for that last joke.
We were in Melbourne for an extended stay recently. We were originally just coming for a couple of weeks at the the start of September for a couple of weddings, but had to come home early when I got the news about mum. We're not really sure where its at at the moment and waiting to see how she reacts to the treatment before they speculate on her chances. Needless to say I haven't been the chirpiest character of late and as I write this, I have been struggling not to break down in tears for most of the day. The stuppiest little things will set you off at a time like this.
To give an example, mum had a test today that could reveal something simply awful for us. My sister was here during the week and we called her on speaker phone on Tuesday night. She was talking about how they'd go and get something for lunch on the way back to the hospital. Mum hasn't had much of appetite of late, but just recently has started really enjoying her food again. She told us how much she wanted a meatball sub from Subway and that they'd get one on the way home today. I remembered this and sent a text to her to wish her well for the test and asking her if she'd got her sub. She responded that the sub was "bloody beautiful". I for some reason felt like Subway also and in some kind of retarded honour to her had a meatball sub myself. I sat in Subway by myself, doing all I could to stop myself from bursting into tears. And I have been holding the tears back since.
I've also started smoking again, much to Hayley's dismay. The first thing I wanted when I got the phone call wasn't a hug, wasn't to get extremely drunk or anything like that, but a cigarette. I went straight to the shops and bought a pack and I'm pretty sure I smoked the whole thing in a night. Now my brother had also started smoking again, but he being made of stronger fibre than I (I think its the stuff they make fridges out of) gave up freely of his own will. I on the other hand come to work everyday determined not to smoke, only to get upset or stressed about mum or the fact that our off shore support team at work are simply awful and incapable of the simplest of tasks (really hope none of them are reading this). The worst thing I've heard though was when Paully finally decided to tell his mates about mum and what he was going through. When he told them he was obviously out drinking because the man is an emotional steel trap when sober. Shit goes in there but you'll get nothing come back out. But on the drink you will start to see a steady trickle of emotion seep out that will never be seen if alcohol wasn't part of the equation. So Paully is having a dart and a jar telling his mates his mother has been diagnosed with lung cancer. And what does his mate say? "Oh that's real clever, your mum has lung cancer and you've started smoking". I will come down there and finger you roughly if you keep that kind of tone up young man. Mum is a life long non-smoker, and whilst I think dad and I both shat ourselves thinking it was our second hand smoke, the type of lung cancer mum has is the most common form found in life long non smokers.
It looks as though Hayley and I may be on our way home at the end of our year here. We had wanted to stay on and will be very sad to leave but I think the gravity of the situation calls for our return. So I wanted to go through some of the funnier things I have seen in our year thus far.
The funniest thing I have seen this year and possibly ever actually happened in Melbourne. I was sitting out the front of our office on Bourke St when I looked up and saw this short Asian dude walking like he was Bruce Lee or some shit. He had a very intense glare going on and I had to follow his eyes to determine what had him so concerned. I look at where he was looking and two school kids where sitting on a bench laughing at him. The next thing this guys breaks into what I would describe as some kind of retarding Bruce Lee/Robot dance in slow motion. Without being able to act it out for you, it probably doesn't work, but just picture some guy trying to make out that he was going to go all Kung Fu on your arse, but instead just looked like he was wasn't sure if he sizing you up for a fight or doing the robot. In the end the school kids got up laughing and walked away, presumbly for fear of laughing so hard they pop a hernia.
Something else that I always look back and laugh about were the drinks in Manila. I remember when we got there everyone recommended we try a Blow Job. I was quick to respond by ensuring them I had enjoyed such a thing previously, but had a girlfriend back home and would be spending the next month willingly without that comfort. Basically a Blow Job in alcoholic terms is a shot of Baileys and Cointreau I think. Now when we were first ordered a round the waiter brought them out on a tray and gave us each a straw. We Aussies all looked at each thinking "Sorry? Straws? I don't think so". Next thing the waiter pulls out a lighter and sets the things on fire. Now that condescending look on our faces when we were presenting with straws turned to confusion. One of the locals who was with us dived in with the straw, drink still on fire, and necked all the liquor which extinguished the flame. So we thought this was great. It hurt a lot but it was something a bit different. After spending two nights necking these things, we had enough of our insides burning and when it was my turn for a round of shots I was instructed in no uncertain terms that we were not to have Blow Jobs under any circumstances. So I went to the bar and looked at the shooters menu. I saw a B-52 and thought "We have those at home I think and I've never them on fire so that should be safe". I ordered the round and the waiter said he'd bring them out for us. I went back to the group and not long after the waiter brings out a tray with shot glasses, all of which were on fire, and a hand full of straws. The group erupted and turned on me. I stood there defending myself claiming he either misheard me and thought I asked for Blow Jobs or they also set B-52s on fire over here. And I am quite sure it was the latter. Everywhere we went they seemed to try and set something on fire. We got to the point where when we ordered a round, I'd get my lighter out of my pocket and wave it at it saying "No fire. No fire". The absolute epitomy of this obsesssion with alcohlic combustion was at a nightclub one night in The Fort. I could see the waiters walking around with bottles of Champagne. Strapped to the top of the bottle was a fire cracker throwing off sparks. It was as if they'd bought a crate of the stuff, got a bottle out, poured it into a glass and tried to set fire to it. Clearly the Champagne didn't ignite and the guy was left standing there trying to work out how he could sell it. "If I can't burn the fucking thing it'll never move." So they strapped a fucking fire cracker to the top of it in the hope of creating the illusion it was on fire. Genius.
Anyway, Hailz and I will continue to enjoy in the Land of the Lion, albeit under some difficult circumstances, namely "Bam Bam". We hope to squeeze a few more solid blogs out before we wipe ourselves clean of Singapore (I am really very happy with this sentence). To everyone back home who we missed while we were there, we are sorry to have missed you but 1. Melbourne was far too fucking cold to do anything but wallow in front of a television and 2. I don't like any of you (I'm trying to say it was a difficult time and I spent most of it with my family). We'll be home at Christmas and I'm sure Hailz will be trying to get me down to Warrnambool thinking I might ask Pat for her hand. Settle Down.
We love you all and will see you very soon, but not before we get very fucked up several more times for your enjoyment.
We were in Melbourne for an extended stay recently. We were originally just coming for a couple of weeks at the the start of September for a couple of weddings, but had to come home early when I got the news about mum. We're not really sure where its at at the moment and waiting to see how she reacts to the treatment before they speculate on her chances. Needless to say I haven't been the chirpiest character of late and as I write this, I have been struggling not to break down in tears for most of the day. The stuppiest little things will set you off at a time like this.
To give an example, mum had a test today that could reveal something simply awful for us. My sister was here during the week and we called her on speaker phone on Tuesday night. She was talking about how they'd go and get something for lunch on the way back to the hospital. Mum hasn't had much of appetite of late, but just recently has started really enjoying her food again. She told us how much she wanted a meatball sub from Subway and that they'd get one on the way home today. I remembered this and sent a text to her to wish her well for the test and asking her if she'd got her sub. She responded that the sub was "bloody beautiful". I for some reason felt like Subway also and in some kind of retarded honour to her had a meatball sub myself. I sat in Subway by myself, doing all I could to stop myself from bursting into tears. And I have been holding the tears back since.
I've also started smoking again, much to Hayley's dismay. The first thing I wanted when I got the phone call wasn't a hug, wasn't to get extremely drunk or anything like that, but a cigarette. I went straight to the shops and bought a pack and I'm pretty sure I smoked the whole thing in a night. Now my brother had also started smoking again, but he being made of stronger fibre than I (I think its the stuff they make fridges out of) gave up freely of his own will. I on the other hand come to work everyday determined not to smoke, only to get upset or stressed about mum or the fact that our off shore support team at work are simply awful and incapable of the simplest of tasks (really hope none of them are reading this). The worst thing I've heard though was when Paully finally decided to tell his mates about mum and what he was going through. When he told them he was obviously out drinking because the man is an emotional steel trap when sober. Shit goes in there but you'll get nothing come back out. But on the drink you will start to see a steady trickle of emotion seep out that will never be seen if alcohol wasn't part of the equation. So Paully is having a dart and a jar telling his mates his mother has been diagnosed with lung cancer. And what does his mate say? "Oh that's real clever, your mum has lung cancer and you've started smoking". I will come down there and finger you roughly if you keep that kind of tone up young man. Mum is a life long non-smoker, and whilst I think dad and I both shat ourselves thinking it was our second hand smoke, the type of lung cancer mum has is the most common form found in life long non smokers.
It looks as though Hayley and I may be on our way home at the end of our year here. We had wanted to stay on and will be very sad to leave but I think the gravity of the situation calls for our return. So I wanted to go through some of the funnier things I have seen in our year thus far.
The funniest thing I have seen this year and possibly ever actually happened in Melbourne. I was sitting out the front of our office on Bourke St when I looked up and saw this short Asian dude walking like he was Bruce Lee or some shit. He had a very intense glare going on and I had to follow his eyes to determine what had him so concerned. I look at where he was looking and two school kids where sitting on a bench laughing at him. The next thing this guys breaks into what I would describe as some kind of retarding Bruce Lee/Robot dance in slow motion. Without being able to act it out for you, it probably doesn't work, but just picture some guy trying to make out that he was going to go all Kung Fu on your arse, but instead just looked like he was wasn't sure if he sizing you up for a fight or doing the robot. In the end the school kids got up laughing and walked away, presumbly for fear of laughing so hard they pop a hernia.
Something else that I always look back and laugh about were the drinks in Manila. I remember when we got there everyone recommended we try a Blow Job. I was quick to respond by ensuring them I had enjoyed such a thing previously, but had a girlfriend back home and would be spending the next month willingly without that comfort. Basically a Blow Job in alcoholic terms is a shot of Baileys and Cointreau I think. Now when we were first ordered a round the waiter brought them out on a tray and gave us each a straw. We Aussies all looked at each thinking "Sorry? Straws? I don't think so". Next thing the waiter pulls out a lighter and sets the things on fire. Now that condescending look on our faces when we were presenting with straws turned to confusion. One of the locals who was with us dived in with the straw, drink still on fire, and necked all the liquor which extinguished the flame. So we thought this was great. It hurt a lot but it was something a bit different. After spending two nights necking these things, we had enough of our insides burning and when it was my turn for a round of shots I was instructed in no uncertain terms that we were not to have Blow Jobs under any circumstances. So I went to the bar and looked at the shooters menu. I saw a B-52 and thought "We have those at home I think and I've never them on fire so that should be safe". I ordered the round and the waiter said he'd bring them out for us. I went back to the group and not long after the waiter brings out a tray with shot glasses, all of which were on fire, and a hand full of straws. The group erupted and turned on me. I stood there defending myself claiming he either misheard me and thought I asked for Blow Jobs or they also set B-52s on fire over here. And I am quite sure it was the latter. Everywhere we went they seemed to try and set something on fire. We got to the point where when we ordered a round, I'd get my lighter out of my pocket and wave it at it saying "No fire. No fire". The absolute epitomy of this obsesssion with alcohlic combustion was at a nightclub one night in The Fort. I could see the waiters walking around with bottles of Champagne. Strapped to the top of the bottle was a fire cracker throwing off sparks. It was as if they'd bought a crate of the stuff, got a bottle out, poured it into a glass and tried to set fire to it. Clearly the Champagne didn't ignite and the guy was left standing there trying to work out how he could sell it. "If I can't burn the fucking thing it'll never move." So they strapped a fucking fire cracker to the top of it in the hope of creating the illusion it was on fire. Genius.
Anyway, Hailz and I will continue to enjoy in the Land of the Lion, albeit under some difficult circumstances, namely "Bam Bam". We hope to squeeze a few more solid blogs out before we wipe ourselves clean of Singapore (I am really very happy with this sentence). To everyone back home who we missed while we were there, we are sorry to have missed you but 1. Melbourne was far too fucking cold to do anything but wallow in front of a television and 2. I don't like any of you (I'm trying to say it was a difficult time and I spent most of it with my family). We'll be home at Christmas and I'm sure Hailz will be trying to get me down to Warrnambool thinking I might ask Pat for her hand. Settle Down.
We love you all and will see you very soon, but not before we get very fucked up several more times for your enjoyment.
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