Heeeey Sunday

It’s been so quiet today.

I had a quick phone chat with my sister, I did the washing, I bought milk, I took a shower, I had a Skype date with my friend Daron, and I started my budget for the next couple months.


But seriously. It’s really good here. There are few things I love more than a good, quiet Sunday. And today is especially quiet because Joel and I cleaned our apartment within an inch of its life yesterday, so I didn’t really have chores to do. I don’t even have to start dinner soon, because we are still chipping away at the red beans and rice I made on Thursday.

I’m just sitting here watching the sun set and cast light through our kitchen.

photo 2(1)and enjoying the company of our new kitchen buddy:

photo 3
RARRRR! Yes, he is leaning against a bottle. Maybe he’s an alcoholic. Or maybe he’s a bit top heavy and his hollow tail doesn’t balance him out. His life, his choice.

I love these days.

One of my greatest feelings is when I look around and think, “I love my life.” Even when all the looming uncertainty and separation from my friends and family makes it hard. Even when I blow off my to-do list for the second weekend in a row. I love it here. I love the life we are working toward. And I’ve never been happier.

photo 1(1)Nope, no real point to this post. I’m just feeling gushy.

6 months in

Six months ago, I walked off a plane with two very over stuffed bags, ready to start the life that Joel and I had been planning.

And it’s already been six months. Half a year. Where did it all go?!

I mean, I know time has passed, because I can throw my hair up in a bun now, and I couldn’t when I first moved here, but it’s still hard to believe.

Who needs
who needs a calendar when you have gray hairs* and split ends?

But it still feels like yesterday that I was racing through the airport with those very overstuffed bags and two very overstuffed suitcases, running toward Joel and our new life. Running toward what my mom calls “our big adventure.”

us, circa September 2014. Oh, how young and free we once were.

This is the longest I’ve gone without seeing my family, my friends, and my pets, and that can suck sometimes. Let’s be real, that can really suck sometimes. But every day¬† reaffirms that I made the best decision of my life by moving here. I knew it would be hard, but I also knew it would worth it. And it has been. These last six months have been more rewarding and challenging than I ever thought they could be. For the first time in my life, I’m thinking and acting like an adult instead of a pseudo-bohemian-malcontent-girl-child. Like, we have an actual savings account. With money in it. And we pool our resources and we have solid plans for our future and we talk shit out and we compromise and we support one another. It feels responsible and very Adulty. And it’s pretty awesome.

Before I moved, people told me that I was brave to follow my heart. I didn’t then, and I don’t now think it had anything to do with bravery. First, I moved from one English speaking first world country to another. Second, I moved in with Joel, whom I adore, but who is also one of the most hard working, caring, sincere, hilarious and loving men I’ve ever met. It doesn’t take balls to take a bet on a sure thing. And I’d bet the house on him all over again.

Happy 6 months, Sydney. I’m so very happy I have a chance to call you home.

Now it’s time to get that visa submitted, so I can hopefully call you home for a much longer time.

*I got my first grey hair when I was 14. And now I have a Stacy London patch that gets frighteningly more apparent the longer I go between salon visits. Thanks, Mom!

30ish days!


Friday marked my one month anniversary with my new home. Happy one month, Sydney! It’s been swell.

Swell is a bit of an understatement. The past 30 days have been nothing short of fantastic. I’m in love. Not just with Joel, but with life in general. Most days, I’m so bowled over with happiness and feels that I think my heart will burst and a billion sappy Meg Ryan comedies will spill out of me. And then I feel like punching myself. But it’s all so good.

We’ve been cooking and adventuring and decorating and hanging out in sweat pants, watching movies and terrible television. I walk all the time. I get to read when I’m on the bus. The weird pink-eye but not pink-eye that affected my right eye for almost an entire month cleared up after being in Sydney for 2 days. My skin looks clearer. My eye lashes are longer. I just feel better. Life just feels better.

Have I been home-sick? Well, at times. For example, it’s October and instead of orange red leaves and girls in scarves, we have lush green trees and girls in booty shorts, which is a bit of a mind-warp. I’m already missing my East Coast fall, and pumpkin flavored everything. I miss having hang times with my family and my friends, and only factoring in a 2 or 3 hour, not 16 hour time difference, when I’m talking with my long distance pals. I miss being there to hug my friends who are going through tough times. I miss going on Target runs and I miss my pets.

I knew that would be the case though. I knew I would long for the people and places and animals that have helped make my life whole, but I’ve never had a doubt in my mind that moving to the other side of the world would be worth it. Before I moved, a few people warned me that Joel’s and my relationship dynamic could change since we went directly from long distance to living together. And it has. But in a good way. We’ve had our moments of adjustment–it’s natural. It’s what a relationship does, it grows and flexes over time. It hasn’t dulled the luster. We’re still super smug in love. Like Jay and Bey.

So, missing everyone in the states, and trading fall for summer has definitely been worth it. I feel at home with Joel. It’s a completeness I’ve never felt outside of my family, and it’s fulfilling and lovely and full of unicorns shitting rainbows. It’s not just me and my goals anymore. It’s us, and our goals. Bringing each other up. Doing things for our future. I’m awed at the sacrifices Joel makes and the constant support he gives. I live to see him walk through the door at the end of the day, or to meet with him at the bus stop. I wake up every day, without fail, feeling lucky and grateful.

/gush gush gush. I am a geyser of feels right now. Old Faithful style.

Basically, my first 30 days in Sydney have been full of fun and love. I’ve been mistaken for Canadian every single time. I’ve learned a whole new catalog of words. I’m pretty down with centigrade, but cooking with the metric system makes me curl into a small ball. My phone and my work computer auto-corrects “realize/apologize” to “realise/apologise” and “color” to “colour”. I can’t say the word mobile as mo-bile without feeling like a douche. I’m getting used to $1 and $2 coins. I haven’t yet been punched by a kangaroo. I spill food when I use my knife in my left hand and eat off the back of my fork. I’m getting used to no a/c and no electric dryer. I’m learning. And it’s hella fun.


Here’s to infinity more fantastic days.