Second Summer

Although we got married six months ago, my husband and I have not yet had a honeymoon.

Ok, that’s not totally true. We had a one-day honeymoon at the Intercontinental in Sydney.  One incredible day of peace amongst the wedding madness. We ordered room service, drank champagne and enjoyed the view. It was glorious and heavenly, yet fleeting.

My parents, who had already been living with us for a month, stayed for another two months. As much as I love my parents, I never envisioned spending my first months of married life under the same roof.

Six months later we’re having a proper honeymoon. We leave in three days and I can’t wait!

We’re taking our new Dell netbook on the road with us and will both try to blog regularly. My husband started a blog this morning:

Second Summer

There’s not much on it at the moment but he plans to catalogue our adventures as we escape the chilling Winter and spend our second Summer of the year abroad.

Now I should really get back to studying. I have an exam the day before we leave!

Honeymoon Help

Althought we got married in December, we haven’t gone on our honeymoon yet.   The plan is to visit family in the US for a week, fly into London to meet up with friends for a few days, spend FOUR WEEKS (!!) in France, swing by Barcelona then come back to Sydney via Hong Kong.  We leave mid-June.

So…do you have any tips on where to go and what to do in France, Barcelona and/or Hong Kong?  I’d love to hear your suggestions!

Follow me on Twitter

Blogging for lazy people.  Works for me!

http://twitter.com/slosydney

Things I love

I’m not one to attach sentimental value to things.  I’ve moved 7 times over the past 10 years and as a consequence have become adept at culling my stuff to the point where I’ve developed a hatred of stuff and things.  If it’s not useful or it doesn’t make me happy, I don’t want it in my home.  That’s not to say that I don’t like any things.  There are plenty of things that I like.  Here are a few I’d like to share with you.

I got this bear for my 16th birthday.  He has notes on him from my aunts, uncles and cousins.  The bear was something tangible to remind me of my family on the other side of the ocean.  Now that I’m only 1,000 k’saway I get to see them far more often.   My grandmother passed away in 2002, just a few years before I moved to Sydney.  She would have been so happy that I moved here. 

 

 

 

 

 These are the shoes I wore on my wedding day.  Peep-toed slingbacks make me happy, but throw some blingy jewels on them and I’m elated.  I keep them on the stairs so I can see them every day. 

 

 

 

 This picture makes me laugh every time I look at it.  I found it at a weird store in Tokyo.  It came in the frame and we carefully transported it home in our carry-on luggage.  My mom took it off the wall when she was visiting but we promptly took it out of hiding when she left.

Stick what in my eye?

Advice from lady mags is often laughale but I found this gem from MSN lifestyle hilariously terrifying.

Don’t have an eyelash curler on hand? You can use a sturdy plastic spoon instead, says Mary Lisa. Just press the curved end into your eye socket so the edge flips up your lashes, then swipe on your mascara.

Stick a spoon in my eye socket?!?  No thank you!

Slosydney needs…

I typed my (real) name into Google followed by the word ‘needs’ and these are the results:

Slosydney needs…

1. to have a good reason or incentive to participate
2. your help!
3. plenty of exercise
4. to come to Illinois
5. a temporary foster home
6. open space and a friend
7. a little introduction
8. another rock
9. some washing powder
10. some buddies

This is more accurate than most horoscopes.  Try it.  What do you need?

I’m Not Dead

After a lengthy blogging hiatus, I’m back and more married than ever before.  More posts to come when I get around to cataloguing the best summer in the history of ever.

No TV and no beer makes SloSydney something something…

Go crazy?

Actually far from it.  The TV is out for repairs and our TV-free evenings have been delightful.  We been cooking dinner together. Well, the fiance cooks while I keep him company.  We eat the dining room table and talk about our day instead of at the coffee table in front of the TV.  I’ve even gotten some studying done!

But tonight the fiance went out of town for work and won’t be home until late.  Usually I’d take advantage of his absence and watch something he would never watch, like Ghost Whisperer, a guilty pleasure of mine.  But without the TV I’m a bit bored and kind of lonely.  I think I’ll go up to bed, cuddle with the dogs and get stuck into a Maeve Binchy book.

I dont’ know where the damn remote is!

The fiance’s work has been a circus lately and he’s been taking that stress home with him.  He’s been snippy, unresponsive and annoyed.  His attitude over the weekend was less than desirable, but I’d chalked it up to job stress and had given him a free pass…until last night.

Yesterday I cleaned our bedroom from top to bottom.  In my cleaning frenzy, the DVD remote went missing.  He wanted to watch a DVD and got angry because it wouldn’t work without the remote.  We looked everywhere for it to no avail.  Then the blame game started.  I wasn’t going to take the blame for something I didn’t do and he wanted somebody to blame.  So the hunt for the remote turned into a full-on fight.  After I tired of the innaneness of it all we got into be and read our respective books in silence, wondering when the other was going to apologize. 

The first rule of marriage is: never go to bed angry.  In the four years we’ve been together, last night was the first time we’ve ever gone to bed without making up.  It was awful.  He fell asleep and I stayed up waiting for him to apologise.  When his eyes remained closed, I gave up.  We both tossed and turned all night.  No reaching out to touch each other in lapses of sleep, no cuddling, no touching feet.

This morning he gave a half-hearted apology which I accepted, also half-heartedly.  As I was gathering my gym clothes, I uncovered the damn remote.  It had been at the foot of the bed the whole time!

After lunch the lady at reception called me to the front.  Something was there for me.  I wondered what it could be.

At the reception desk was an arrangement of roses and lilies, just for me.  What for?  Very late birthday present?  Flowers from my parents for no particular reason?  Thank you from a customer?  I was baffled. 

It all made sense when I opened the card.  It read:

Thank you for finding the remote.

Melbourne, Part I. Shopping!

Melbourne was lovely.  Not quite the romantic weekend away we hoped for, but we had a fantastic time. 

I arrived Wednesday night and had an uneventful evening in a crappy hotel room in the middle of nowhere.  Thursday I finished work early and had time to do a bit of shopping.  After driving around a bit and getting hopelessly lost, I happened upon Chapel Street.  How fortuitous!  For the shops that is, not my bank balance. 

Chapel street has the best shopping I’ve seen in Australia.  It has all my favourite shops, cute boutiques and tasty looking cafes and restaurants.

First item on the shopping list: jeans.  My favourite pair of jeanshave finally become too obscene to wear in public.  Trying on jeans is always a depressing experience.  It’s almost as bad as bathing suit shopping but slightly better because I can’t see cellulite when I’ve got jeans on.   Usually I bring a friend along with me for moral support, but in the absence of any girlfriends I recruited the poor sales assistant.  He was a willowy young hipster with fopish hair, skinny jeans and bright pink nails.  Is it wrong to be envious of an 18 year old boy’s nail polish?  He was patient and complimentary while I squeezed into pair after pair of unflattering and ill-fitting sausage casings…er, pairs of jeans.  After nearly an hour, I found a satisfactory pair.  Yay!

Onto the second item on the list: stockings.  Tights serve double duty by keeping my legs warm and hiding the forest that I cultivate on my legs during the winter.  All of the shops seemed to only carry footless tights so I ended up at Allanah Hill, where I knew I could find tights.  If I could afford to, I would wear only Allanah Hill.  Alas, my money goes to unfashionable things like the mortgage and food.  I browsed the shop looking longingly at $600 coats, $300 sweaters and…what’s this?  A handbag.  Cute!  And it’s not outrageously expensive?  And It’s $100 off?  And it’s an additional 20% off?!?  My lucky day!  So, needless to say, I got a new handbag.

All in all it was a successful shopping adventure.  I came away with what I needed and nothing I didn’t.  Good thing I don’t live near Chapel street.  I’d be stylish but flat broke.