Cuntry Reflections

I run. The gravel crunches beneath my shoes and my breathing is ragged. My legs are burning and my chest feels like it's going to explode, but I push myself on. "This is what you get for being a lazy ass for the past six months," I say in my head. And I run until the fork in the road then I slow down to a walk and think about taking all my clothes off and passing out in the ditch for a while. But that's a good way to literally get eaten alive by mosquitos/be mistaken for a dead body by any passing country folk. So I slowly walk back home. My mind starts wandering...did I make the right choice? What will happen with the Boy? Will I ever stop missing Australia? What if I never get to go back?

"Be present!" I remind myself. I look around me, at the fields I grew up with. The gravel road is wet from last night's rain and all the plants and grass and trees around me are varying shades of vibrant green. The sky is a perfect blue, spotted with huge white clouds that are somehow fluffy and wispy at the same time. The gentle wind cools my face and sweeps across the field in waves, a different type of ocean. All around me I can hear leaves rustling, birds singing, and the chirping of crickets in their endless symphony. I am home.

It's been a great week here on the Munro Farm. I've recovered from my jet lag, cleaned my room for the first time since 2007, and eaten pretty much everything I could find (which was a lot). I've visited with my Grandparents, my Mom, Dad and his girlfriend, a lovely English lady who is as comfortable drinking a fine red wine as she is mowing the lawn on our giant riding lawn mower. I was lucky enough to see some old friends from Winnipeg, but unfortunately missed out on my neighbor Cam, who was selfishly busy working. I even managed to get my hair cut - that's number 9 in the past seven months for anyone who hasn't been counting. I am so happy that I got to spend some time here with my family, where I grew up. It's funny how different everything looks now. I've been away from home for a longer period of time, but I have never been so far away. The distance was palpable. I realized something very important in my travels...that while my family is not perfect, while we are in fact quite broken and uncomfortable at times, we are still family. The house will change color and furnishings and pets will come and go, but it is still my home. And I am so incredibly lucky.

The only part missing was my brother, who is working at a fly-in fishing resort this summer. On the one hand, I get to stay in his place in Calgary until he gets back (woo! no pants party!), on the other hand, it would have been really nice to be home with him at the same time. Well I'm sure I'll get my fill of him once he returns and relegates me to the couch. Yes, just because I've given up travelling does not mean I've given up mooching.   

And so, here I sit, on the eve of my surprise return to Calgary. I'm nervous, I'm excited, I can't wait to eat some poutine. But, above all, I am happy. One of my favorite at-home-on-the-farm activities is to read my old diaries, and I was doing so earlier this week. It was frustrating to read my truly senseless ramblings about past relationships and jobs and internal struggles (which of course seem incredibly stupid to me now). But it was also liberating. I realized that I am well on my way to becoming the person that I desperately wanted to be three years ago, but didn't know how. I can honestly say that I am at peace with myself and those around me. I have redefined what I want in life and I have the motivation to go after it. Who knew that cranking around Aus, getting drunk and dancing like an insane robot was all I needed?

Just kidding. It was so much more than that. I will never forget the feeling of driving down the coastal highway at sunset, with the windows open and Triple J playing as loud as I wanted. Laughing until my sides hurt and we didn't know what we were laughing about anymore. Looking around a room full of new faces, so grateful that they welcomed me so completely. The feel of warm salty water crashing over me. Looking into her eyes while the pink and purple fog rolled over us and I felt like I was falling. Smoking cigarettes with him as we looked at the moon and the trees and shared snippets of our lives. Dancing and getting so hot and sweaty that I took off my shirt, just like the boys did. Because I could, and I didn't care. I look at my pictures and realize I only captured a fraction of my experiences. But I don't mind. It's impossible to explain the feeling of total and complete freedom, of living for the moment. Of being miserable and homesick and lonely and leaving the house anyway, funneling a beer, putting on a mullet wig and arguing about circumcision with friends and strangers in a shed. I miss Australia, and all the beautiful people I got to know. But I know that I don't have to worry about whether or not I will get to return someday.
The universe is always unfolding as it should.

The Truth, Or Something Like It

After a hard farewell to Perth I found myself ready and willing to be thrown into Sydney. High times at Arq (nightclub) until 5 in the morning, which was an absolute delight. And as I sat on the floor in Denton's office, unable to sleep, listening to the sounds of two boys in a bathtub and watching the sun come up over the city I thought "is this really what I want right now?"

A few days later I met my old beau, Paul, at the airport. We had arranged this visit a few weeks prior and I was excited to see him, make amends for past hurts, and do the tourist thing around Sydney. It was extremely nice to spend time with him, and I'm happy to report we did not get run down by a ferry while kayaking in the harbour one day. The time came for him to leave, which was a very sad day indeed. But I knew it was time to get back to the travellers life.

And by that I mean it was time to lay around in bed watching Netflix. Denton was helpful with whatever I needed, including motivating me with slaps to get out of bed, but I wasn't sure exactly what it was that I needed. A job, a place to live, etc. But as I combed through adds on gum tree I didn't have that feeling of excited anticipation...and when I realized that the tax refund I had been counting on wasn't coming through after all, I had a definite feeling of panic and anger. At myself. And a little bit at the government.

What now? I promised myself that I wouldn't ask my parents for money, no matter what! Yet here I was, once again at the mercy of someone else. I talked to my father and he was immediately comforting and supportive. I asked him what I should do - stay here and continue on for another six months, or go home and start sorting my life out. The cost would be about the same. He wisely said that he couldn't make that decision for me, I would have to figure it out on my own.

I thought about it a lot, but I knew what the answer was. A few months ago I had planned on going home about this time, to get myself organized to go to school in the fall of 2014. I changed my mind because I thought that would be giving up on Australia too soon, which is when I decided to go to Sydney. And yet, here I was. I could stay in Aus and find a job and make new friends and have an amazing time...or I could go home and find a job and make new friends and have an amazing time. The difference was I wouldn't have to leave Canada in six months, I could stay there forever. With free healthcare! Also to be perfectly honest, I'm tired of looking at my friends who are about the same age as me and wondering why they have things so figured out, while I still feel like I'm 21 and struggling to make ends meet most of the time.

It may not be the most adventurous choice, but it's the most responsible one. And at 25 and a half years old I think perhaps it's time I started being responsible. I came to Australia to find a home, to find myself, and to run away from things I didn't want to deal with anymore. I certainly did find a home, and I found the confidence in myself that I've been lacking for so long. I feel ready to face those uncomfortable truths; exes I never really dealt with, my family issues, the fact that putting down roots of any kind is terrifying to me. Leaving everything behind, taking a breather and doing whatever I wanted was probably the best thing I could have done. It made me realize how important it is to be yourself no matter where you are, and I expect it will be a challenge to be the person I have embraced here when I'm back in familiar territory. But it's a challenge I'm excited for. And after all, I will have to come back to Australia some day. It is simply too amazing to stay away.

I Got This Feeling

I've been in Sydney for two days and it already feels a little teeny bit like I never left. I've already gotten a haircut ($85!! Really? I thought Perth was supposed to be the most expensive city. But maybe I should stop going to wanky hipster hair salons) and, with Denton's help, consumed an entire wheel of triple cream brie. As I was laying in bed this morning at 7:30 I thought 'I should go for a run.' But instead I rolled over and went back to sleep. Because that is the Canadian traveller way. I will get my exercise this weekend when I stay out dancing until 6AM. 

Leaving Perth was hard. But the upside of crying for three days straight is that by the time you're actually at the airport, your eyes are dry. Ok I did tear up a little right before we took off. Then I fell asleep. My last few weeks of "well it's 11:00PM, but I'll still go out. I can sleep in Sydney" living have caught up with me. That said, I regret nothing!!! Late night conversations are often the best conversations. 

I was so incredibly lucky to have a brilliant send off. I'll give you a brief [long and drawn-out] overview.

Saturday, June 29 - what would have been my sixth wedding anniversary. Went to the park with Andrew and ate a toasted ham and cheese croissant while he practiced flare in the sun, and walked around a lake and smoked and held hands like dirty hipsters. Went to the bottle-o to pick up my alcohol for the evening. For some reason unknown to man I decided on two bottles of sparkling red wine. Dressed up like a boy, which is feeling more and more natural these days. Took Jaxx as my date to my dear friend Alex's high school themed birthday party. Proceeded to consume many vodka jello shots and tried to get someone to cut my hair in the bathroom (it didn't happen, thanks to Alex's watchful eye). The rest is a blur, but I can tell from the many many photos of Jaxx and I making out that it was a good night. 

Sunday, June 30 - my last shift at the pub. Hungover and feeling like death, thankful that work provides free chocolate milk for those clever enough to make it. It was only a four hour shift and by the end I was starting to come around. And by 'come around' I mean I was standing at the till looking out at the empty restaurant and crying. Thankfully Lindsay was close by to give me a comforting, mother-like hug. When 4PM finally rolled around I changed into 'normal' clothes and had a drink with the regulars, then my friends started to arrive. I'll spare you the details that are only significant to me, and say that it was an amazing night full of laughter, dancing, bra-discarding, staring into eyes, beard scratching, dick-drawing, tears and hugging. For once I was the pep-talkee, instead of the pep-talker. I crawled into bed that night a very happy little Canadian. Until I woke up at 2AM and spewed my guts out.

Monday, July 1 - Canada Day! And, as it turns out, I can't party three nights in a row. It is physically impossible without the aid of certain substances, which I was not feeling emotionally capable of handling. But I still managed to drag myself out of bed and put on my ripped Canada t-shirt and beanie and flanno and have pres with the pub crew. It was chilled out and fun to sit around with everyone, but it was tinged with sadness for me and I thought to myself that next time I'm planning on leaving somewhere I'm going to tell everyone a day or a few hours before I go and leave it at that. No more of these week-long farewells. We all went out to The Deen for one last industry night, where I was treated to a shot with an American man I had just met and both of my lovers, which was strange and slightly uncomfortable. Very tearful goodbyes, followed by an uneasy sleep.

Tuesday, July 2 - packing etc. etc. The boring tasks such as going to the bank to sort my change and convert $43 of silver into bills. But my dad was right, every penny counts, and I used my tip money to buy some lamb and prawns for a BBQ that night (soooo Aussie). My house mum toasted me and said she had enjoyed having me stay with them, which was a relief because I use a LOT of olive oil. Patti took all the credit for the amazing person I am today (due to her life coaching sessions over the past two months). The girls reminisced about all of our times together and Alex kissed me on the head and said "thanks for coming". It was warm and comforting and I felt very loved. 

When I first came to Australia I was looking for a place that felt like home. I stepped off the plane in Sydney and did not immediately feel a kinship with the land I stood on. I felt like I was in an airport and I needed a shower. But so far in my very brief travels I've learned that many places can feel like home. You can fall in love with anyone. You can have incredible adventures anywhere. It just takes an open heart, and a willingness to spend time with people. 

In closing...when I booked my one-way ticket to Australia in October of 2012 I took a short (stupid) video to commemorate the occasion. A few weeks ago, when drunk at The Deen, I took another short (shaky) video, to remind myself how far I have come. I share these with you now because I've been showing them to people when I'm frittered anyway, and I feel that this will make a bit more sense. 'I Love It' by Icona Pop has been a bit of a personal theme song for me, and it still makes me smile and jump around like a crazy person. It may be trite to say that the past six months have changed my life, but it would also be true.