Like many others in this world, I’m a sucker for a romance movie. I’m a sucker for a rom-com. I’m a sucker for a drama. To be fair I’ll give just about anything a go.
Whether or not it’s embarrassing to admit, I’m going to say that the romance movie is probably on the top of my list of favourite things to watch. A great romance movie is worth its weight in gold. But when you add heartbreak into that movie, then I’m all the more in. I don’t live for happy endings, I live for the drama. I live for the guy walking away in the end because he knows it’s the right thing to do, even if it breaks his heart. I like movies where people die, goddamn it!
Many countries in the last months have been dealing with the rocky ride of transitioning out of hard lockdown into something a bit more normal. In Austria, the official date was May 19th. And yes, I took the afternoon off work to go to the pool… and yes, it was freezing but I went anyway.
With the opening of the restaurants and so on, they introduced the 3G rule. That is… Getestet, Geimpft oder Gesund. Basically if you want to eat at a restaurant, have a haircut, visit a pool or lake etc. you have to be able prove that you have either a valid negative Covid test, have been vaccinated (3+ weeks) or have recovered from Covid (in the last 6 months).
I know what it’s like when someone opens with: I must tell you about my dream! It was soooo funny. Because let’s be honest, for the most part, other people’s dreams tend to be pretty uninteresting. Of course your own dreams are… amazing… mostly because they are… well… dreamy and often shrouded in that mystical light that makes them seem more meaningful.
I don’t believe my dreams are at all meaningful. And I am a frequent and avid dreamer. My dreams are at best odd, and at their most extreme, completely wacky.
I do try to resist the urge to tell people about my peculiar dreams… but sometimes I feel the need to share.
And this is one of those times.
Because recently I had what I feel is the best dream ever.
There is one difference between Austria and Australia I haven’t mentioned yet, and while it’s certainly becoming less and less noticeable… noticeable it still is. In Australia, after years of campaigning, hiking up cigarette prices and banning of smoking pretty much everywhere, it seems these days that barely anyone smokes. But in Austria, it is much more widespread – you can smoke almost everywhere and cigarettes are cheap (and if you want cheaper ones just cross the border to Slovenia).
I am no stranger to bee stings. As a kid it seems I was often barefoot, and I had plenty of runs-ins with the peaceful creatures. The result was usually just a swollen foot and limping for a few days – and of course the tell-tale itching.
The last time I was stung by a bee I iced it and put my foot up, and really didn’t notice much else.
But while my foot may be immune, turns out my face isn’t.
This is still one of the funniest things that has happened to me in Austria. Caution: this story contains sexually explicit material and graphic images. If you think this might offend you, best skip it.
When I was growing up we always had a vege garden. My dad was head gardener and he’d spend a lot of his free time toiling outside to produce masses of pumpkins and beans and glossy red tomatoes. I loved helping him, and by helping him I mean, only doing fun things: planting seeds in an already prepared garden bed, picking snow peas and eating more than went in my basket, watching new shoots break through wet earth… that kind of thing.
We’ve been in our house now for almost two years. Prior to that I was in an apartment for three. When we first looked into buying a place, we tossed up between house vs apartment. Having had a dog and share-situations in Oz, I’ve always lived in houses, but Thomas, having lived longer alone, had always been an apartment-dweller.
So house vs apartment… what’s the verdict? I’m still pro-house, and Thomas is slowly coming around.