I keep logging onto my Blogger account and only get as far as the Dashboard... I never end up writing anything... because there really isn't much to write about these days. What, apart from work, there's not much happening in the life of joy (I could write about my relationship with Eddoes, but seeing as we're both somewhat keen to keep our personal lives personal, than I'll endeavour to keep as much of what goes on between us... between us).
I realised though, that it's been almost a month since my last entry, and that's pretty shocking for a girl like me, who has spent the majority of her 22 years of existence writing...
How did 4 weeks of my life slip by and I not register what was going on??
Hmmm... let's back track.
June 20 - after retrieving my handbag from the Bishop's PA (Bishop Anthony wasn't keen on actually walking around the building with a woman's black leather handbag in tow), I managed to get life in the office back on track.
As life usually goes after most WYDSAC meetings, more work appeared on my to-do list, but this month, it seemed less apparent to me what the point of all my work was.
So... came the next ten days of making sure every parish, community, group, movement, leader, and youth organisation that operates under the geographical parameters otherwise known as the Sydney Archdiocese was well aware that the WYD Cross & Icon were about to arrive in Sydney.
I shall digress for moment and report that on June 22:
I woke up at a God-forsaken early hour to drive a mate to the airport so he could fly to New Zealand for a SFC conference - a drive where I discovered to my dismay, that the friend I'd once thought would always be my friend.. could easily abandon our friendship for the safer shores of "closed-off and intraverted acquaintance." I pondered about our 9 year friendship after leaving him at the departure terminal, where he'd clearly rejected my offer to hang out for breakfast until his plane departed, wondering as I drove into the city why it hurt so much that I couldn't explain to him the status of my life, my heart, my mind.. when it had once been so easy years and years ago. Or perhaps the real issue was trying to figure out what hurt more: the fact that I can't articulate myself as clearly as I used to, or that he didn't want to try and understand my gibberish anymore because it's safer that way...
Eventually the day drifted into more phone calls, emails, more website updates, mail-outs... until I left the office to hang out with Jonna at VAIG photography studios. What I don't understand is why people would shell out over $1000 for hot photos of themselves. I'll admit that the photos we were presented looked pretty stunning (I envy Jonna for being photogenic - it's not a quality I possess); and if they cost $10 each, I'd purchase all of them in a snap... but $200 for ONE 6x4 inch print of myself in my own clothes, in simple make-up, and a bit of fancy-shmancy lighting? PAH-LEASE.
When the manager finally knocked it down to $89 a print, I bought two (one of me and one of Jonna) for a keepsake of the hilarious night we spent with our down-to-earth photographer, who made us do funny poses against dimly lit walls, on kitchen bench tops, or poised against a painted backdrop.
I drove back to the city after signing off another addition on my credit card bill, and joined Amardeep and an entire flock of first year med students at a Spanish restaurant on Liverpool St. Talk about feeling overwhelmed! For the first time in my life, I witnessed a complete make-over in less than two minutes. The once timid, don't-you-ever-make-me-speak-in-public high school friend of mine, eternally confined to follow dos and don'ts from obsessively over-protective parents had donned a gorgeous dress, done up her hair, was wearing make-up, and laughing the night away at a table full of extraverted friends (who bought her an awesome dinner and really yummy cake).
We made our way to Burdekin bar for a few hours of dancing, drinking.. and all that jazz. Took the DJ about an hour to realise that people react best to songs that they actually know... and when Marvin managed to score me a couple of free drinks, life wasn't so bad by 9pm.
Eventually, the exhaustion began to feel heavy on the eyelids, and I was pretty much over Heineken beer. That and I was feeling somewhat guilty for enjoying myself so much dancing with people I'd just met... while my faithful boyfriend was at home, wondering if I'd really have the guts to get pissed and catch a cab home.
Lucky I didn't... because I got back to my car and found it tragically damaged by a bastard who probably hit it while trying to park, and decided they didn't have the integrity to leave me a note. (Marvin just laughed when he realised how crest-fallen I looked... luckily... because I would've probably broken something in anger had he not been so light-hearted about it)
So... the next couple of days I spent trying to find out whether or not my beautiful silver Corolla had comprehensive car insurance (much to my comfort, it does)...
Today I finally dropped it off at the repairers; which means I have no car for a week. :(
In between today and the day my car was hit, the following things have happened:
- Edwin and I celebrated the 6-month mark by devouring pots of all-you-can-eat muscles at King St Wharf;
- Amardeep and I did the girly thing of sitting on her bed pouring out the type of thoughts and verbal nonsence about issues that only girls can cry/whince/ponder/get pissed over;
- I realised, on the final page of my yellow journal, just how difficult the past year and a half has been for me....
- I started a fresh new journal the day the WYD Cross & Icon arrived in Sydney...
- John Howard give the first speech to ever make my eyes water with tears of inspiration and joy (who would've thought it possible?! Made sure Edwin & I grabbed a photo with him to make sure we'd remember the rare moment forever)
- A crowd of over 8,000 people gathered at Darling Harbour to welcome the WYD Cross & Icon into Sydney
- Guy Sebastian & Paulini sung the WYD08 theme song in front of those 8,000 people
- I followed the Cross & Icon across the Archdiocese of Sydney for 8 days...
- Nereus drove Luke, Suarez, Dom & I to the Circular Quay, where we were joined by Edwin and many other faithful Cross groupies, who accompanied the Cross & Icon onto a ferry, then sailed it over to Manly, where 600 people were waiting at the wharf to welcome it into the Broken Bay Diocese (wow)
- I stuffed my face with pancakes, smothered with ice cream, chocolate sauce, bananas and walnuts after what felt like the most amazing week in Sydney...
- I tried to teach Caitlyn how to play drums, watched her tap-dance on my living room tiles, fell asleep next to her a few times, laughed at her sillyness and let her play with my facial features with her tiny little hands...
- I did the most nerve-racking (and most unprepared for) testimony in front of about 1000 people at my local parish last night... (yikes) about how WYD affected me and why I'm so excited... I still regret talking so fast, mumbling so many times, saying "Umm..." a gazillion times and not wrapping up effectively. Oh well... life goes on I guess.
- I slept and slept and slept and woke up with a congested nose, an aching head, and lots of tissues in my bin...
- I fell in love with my boyfriend again... who gives me hugs, plays guitar for me, and washes the dishes when I'm sick.
- I blogged half a novel about 4 weeks of my life... with no pictures. Ha. (They'll come later.)
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i miss u!
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