Happiness...

... is a strong hot cuppa and toasted English muffins with Vegemite.

Or that's what it is for me this morning, any way. I'm easy to please that way - gimme some black goo that looks like industrial waste (thanks so much for that description, Speedy Paul *grins*) and some stewed leaves in a mug, and I'm satisfied. Especially when it's another lovely sunny morning here in the North East of Victoria and if I twist around in my chair slightly, I can put my feet in the patch of sunlight pouring through the dining room window. Sun is good - remind me to go for a mountain bike ride this afternoon.

A bit of an update, since it's been a couple of days since I actually made a post that wasn't a space-filler. Although those surveys have been fun to read; quite a few of my ficcer friends have been filling them out, and it's fun to read their answers. Which reminds me - i have to go smooch Yasmin for the lovely thing she said about me in hers.

Lessee, Thursday night we had people over for dinner. A handy excuse for me to not go to the karate function on that night: I haven't trained often enough with the club to feel comfortable with them yet, although they are very nice and friendly so far, and it was cold and I was very reluctant to get off my arse and ride the 10km over to Albury. Like I told Greta last night - I'd be a hell of a lot more social if I had a car. ;) It's too easy to find excuses not to jump on the bike, espeically when it's dark and only a couple of degrees Celsius outside. Bad Rossi, no cookie. Or bikkie, either. ;)

Anyhoo, we had visitors - Greta and her friend Lorelle, who is another teacher. Four of us at the table and I was the only one who hadn't sold my soul to the Education Department. *grins* We had a good night, lots of talk and laughter, although BRM was occasionally made to feel like the token male as conversation turned to the way women's periods synchronise in a communal setting (it's pheromones, BTW). Lorelle is another Netter, although she habituates the Barbie community. *grins* We found common ground on the geek thing.

Friday was my day off, so after a sleep in (due to a late night the night before), I finally got my act together and rode my MTB over to Albury along the bike path. The wooden bridge over Wodonga Creek is mucg easier with suspension, I can tell you. First stop was Clark Rubber (stop snickering, it wasn't that kind of rubber! Although there was some rolls of thin rubber material that could have passed for Spandex...) to purchase a double bed mattress for the sofa bed I inherited from my brother. It cost me $85 (ouch!) but it's a one-off thing and at least now a) visitors have somewhere to crash that isn't a camping mat on the floor, and b) the couch doesn't sag any more. Of course, I couldn't take it with me, being on my bike (without even my rack, which is on my touring bike, Cecil), so I arranged to pick it up the next day and took myself off to the Flight Centre.

Yes, I am now the proud holder of a set of plane tickets to Toronto, returning from Vancouver, flying out of Melbourne on July 27th. At seven in the morning. Ugh. That means I'm going to have to check in by 5.30am, at the very latest. But I have my tickets, so Dexcon is now a reality, not an abstract. :) And that's another thing off my mind. At this rate I'll be floating around with a head full of fluff. ;)

Friday night BRM went out drinking with the boys from his course, so I spent a quiet night chatting to folks I hadn't chatted to for a while. Apologies to those in #greyfortress who got the slightly sharper edge of my tongue - I was feeling particularly cynical and disillusioned with the world after watching BRM mope around after the BitchWoman. But I went away, came back, and played nicely.

BRM stayed out overnight at Greta's which was a sort of nuisance since I'd arranged to pay Dad the rent Saturday morning when he came around to go pick up my mattress. We ran our errands, I scored fromveggies and fruit from the hamper mum had won from golf, and we had a bit of a chat, which was good. I'll pay the rent on Monday on my way back from work. I came back in the afternoon and got sucked back into chat (I seriously need to wean myself off that!), but enjoyed myself so much it didn't matter. When BRM finally got home about 6pm, it was with an invitation to go over to Greta's for a girls' night.

All right, I admit it. I am a wuss. I am also lazy, on occasion, and so when I got the news I'd been invited to somewhere that would require me to ride my bike over to Albury in the cold, I balked. BRM got cross and told me to stop being a hermit and that I'd never make friends if I didn't put in the effort. Again, totally true. *sighs* I hate it when he's right. So I called Greta, told her I was on my way, and turned myself into the Michelin Man (think Xander in the puffy body armour in the "I Was Made To Love You" episode of Buffy) and whimpered and whinged and muttered my way out to Greta's.

It was, I must say, a beautiful night. Half moon, stars like ice shavings scattered over the sky, and everything still and cold and quiet (at least when I was being passed by hoons out on the town). And I had a great time at Greta's, with her mum, Liz and a couple of other of her friends, Bridgette and Chris. Good food, good conversation, and a nice comfy seat right next to the heater to thaw me out.

Bridgette said something interesting to me, about being an Army kid. She asked about whether all the moving (6 primary schools in six years, two kindergartens) had made me inclined to be nomadic. I had to admit that she had a point. We lived on the farm for six years, then I moved down to Melbourne. Again, I moved house about eight times in the twelve years I was there. Even my job gives me a certain amount of mobility, transferring from court to court. Even now, I find myself unable to see myself as staying in one place for long - I'm looking at another year at least in Wodonga, and after that see where I can get a promotion. And there's the travelling - I love seeing new places and travelling around, more so than BRM ever did, and I find myself needing to get away at least once a year. Maybe now, with no ties and few responsibilities, I can get that out of my system.

*grins* Yep, I could easily see myself as one of those backpacker types, the older woman doing the lone journey thing, just letting my feet take me wherever they want to go. Too bad you're always broke, but who knows? Maybe I should take on a new identity as a nomadic travel book writer. ;)

The more I think of it, the more I realise that the dream of the house and all is not for me. I thought it was, but it was really part of the security thing, the wanting to belong somewhere and with someone. But there's so much I want to do, that I haven't done, so much time to make up for. And I want to be able to look back on my life and not regret never have at least attempted them. I want to see Europe, like BRM's cousin Mareeta did, touring on a bike on her own and just stopping whenever she felt like it. I want to hike through Canada and Alaska, and do Subrealicon at least once. I don't want spend my time wishing and saying "one day" and then realise that my chance has slipped away and I'm stuck in a dead end job in a dead end town and feeling like I've wasted my life.

It's corny, but it's true; "A life lived in fear is a life half-lived." Time for me to start living.

Something I just had to share.

Apologies in advance for the enormous amount of text, but I thought this was one of the most profound, yet simple things I've read in a long time.

Oh, The Places You'll Go.
Dr Suess. (Harper Collins, 1990)

Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You're off to Great Places!
You're off and away!

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself
Any direction you choose.
You're on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who'll decide where to go.
You'll look up and down streets. Look 'em over with care.
About some you will say, "I don't choose to go there."
With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,
You're too smart to go down any not-so-good street.

And you may not find any
You'll want to go down.
In that case, of course,
You'll head straight out of town.
It's opener there
in the wide open air.
Out there things can happen
and frequently do
to people as brainy
and footsy as you.
And when things start to happen,
Don't worry. Don't stew.
Just go right along.
You'll start happening too.

OH!
THE PLACES YOU'LL GO!

You'll be on your way up!
You'll be seeing great sights!
You'll join the high fliers
who soar to great heights.
You won't lag behind because you'll have the speed.
You'll pass the whole gang and you'll soon take the lead.
Wherever you fly, you'll be best of the best.
Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.

Except when you don't.
Because, sometimes, you won't.

I'm sorry to say so
but, sadly, it's true
that Bang-Ups
and Hang-Ups can happen to you.
You can get all hung up
in a prickle-ly perch.
and your gang will fly on.
You'll be left in a Lurch.

You'll come down from the Lurch
with an unpleasant bump.
And the chances are, then,
that you'll be in a Slump.
And when you're in a Slump,
you're not in for much fun.
Un-slumping yourself
is not easily done.

You will come to a place where the streets are not marked.
Some windows are lighted. But mostly they're darked.
A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin!
Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in?
How much can you lose? How much can you win?
And IF you go in, should you turn left or right…
Or right and three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite?
Or go around back and sneak in from behind?
Simple it's not, I'm afraid you will find,
for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.
You can get so confused
that you'll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at break-necking pace
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, towards a most useless place.

The Waiting Place…

…for people just waiting.

Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or waiting around for a Yes or a No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting.

NO!
That's not for you!

Somehow you'll escape
all that waiting and staying.
You'll find the bright places
where Boom Bands are playing.
With banner flip-flapping,
Once more you'll ride high!
Ready for anything under the sky.
Ready because you're that kind of a guy!
Oh the places you'll go! There is fun to be done!
There are points to be scored. There are games to be won.
And the magical things you can do with that ball
will make you the winning-est winner of all.
Fame! You'll be famous as famous can be,
with the whole wide world watching you win on TV.

Except when they Don't.
Because, sometimes, they won't.

I'm afraid that some times
you'll play lonely games too.
Games you can't win
'cause you'll play against you.
All alone!
Whether you like it or not,
Alone will be something
You'll be quite a lot.
And when you're alone, there's a very good chance
you'll meet things that scare you right out of your pants.
There are some, down the road between hither and yon,
That can scare you so much that you won't want to go on.

But on you will go
Thought the weather be fowl.
On you will go
Though your enemies prowl.
On you will go
Though the Hakken-Kraks howl.
Onward up many
A frightening creek,
Though your arms may get sore
And your sneakers may leak.
On and on you will hike.
And I know you'll hike far
And face up to your problems
Whatever they are.

You'll get mixed up, of course,
as you already know.
You'll get mixed up
With many strange birds as you go.
So be sure when you step.
Step with care and great tact
And remember that Life's
a Great Balancing Act.
Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.
And never mix up your right foot with your left.

And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and 3/4 per cent guaranteed.)
KID, YOU'LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!

So…
be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray
or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O'Shea,
you're off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting.
So… get on your way!

Invasion of the Lycra wearers.

My kitchen is full of cyclists at the moment. *grins* Okay, slight exaggeration, there's only three of them, but if this was my old kitchen in Elsternwick, it would be full to overflowing with cyclists in that case. ;)

BRM, Caroline and Ian went off for a mountain bike ride at about two this afternoon. I didn't go with them because I thought they were going to the Baranduda Ranges again, and my knee's been acting up in the cold and I didn't feel up to the 15km ride out there on bitumen - my MTB is not the best touring bike and much prefers dirt to tar. Turns out they went to the hills at the back of our place, which is kinda annoying because this is precisely where I went for my ride this afternoon - down Felltimber Creek Road until I hit the dirt section, then along the dirt road that runs between the housing line and the bottom of the hills until I hit the new development off Yaralumla Drive, and then along the bike path to home. About an hour in all, but it was solid riding, up and down hill, no walking. it was fun - nothing difficult, since I didn't have any tools or a spare tube with me (again, Bad Rossi, no cookie!) and it was late afternoon, already advancing towards evening. Once the sun dropped behind the hills I really noticed the chill in the air. It starts to get dark at about 4 o'clock these days, which means if I want to do much riding I have to get motivated to go in the morning: the MTB has no lights, and nowhere to put them.

Wonder where that came from?

I posted a new Midnight Nation fic tonight, one that I didn't even know was there until I sat down and opened Word. Very strange. It's a bit dark and angsty, but for once the angst doesn't come from me. It just... happened.

Still, it's the first thing I've written for a week, apart from these journal entries, so that's a good thing. Hopefully I've broken the impasse I was in.

Writing isn't for me the Grand Obsession it seems to be for others. It's rare that I feel compelled to write, that I have to get the words down no matter what. Most of the time it's like reading, or riding my bike - it's something I feel like doing. But I do enjoy it, and I'd like to think I was good at it - the feedback seems to indicate it, although you can't trust OTL. I mean, I get more feedback for the dime-a-dozen mood pieces than I do for anything I actually work at, which is a bit demoralising. But I'd like to be able to do it more often, and perhaps even one day get financial recognition - not because I'd solely write for money, but because it does take time, and that's a priority in my life right now.

Interesting tidbit - BRM's brother has a friend who works for Lonely Planet, and he was asking BRM about writing some bike-related stuff. BRM suggested maybe I could do it - nothing hugely technical as far as the bike part goes, more along the lines of travelling with/by bike. I don't know if the offer's still open, or what it entails exactly, but I'm thinking I should ask. Could be a start.