Archive | August, 2009

a million little versions…

Ok, so I have been here for 43 days, 1032 hours, 61,920 minutes or 3,715,200 seconds… (just an update)

I got back from the lake,
Lake Chargoggagoggmanchauggagoggchaubunagungamaugg, late last night. The translation is ‘You fish on your side. I fish on my side and no one will fish in the middle.

It was a good weekend filled with jet skiing, boating, swimming, making smores, napping and laughing. It was the best weekend. We would all sleep in, have a lazy morning filled with slow breakfasts and cool swims as a nice break from the 32C weather. The boys taught me how to drive the jet skis and I caught on quickly (very Angelina Jolie circa Lara Croft, Tomb Raider)

None of us showered the entire time we were there. Instead, we would all walk the 3 steps from the front door down to the water’s edge and at midnight, all the girls would be in one line washing and massaging the head in front of them.

The lake is huge and so pretty, there are so many people who live full time but somehow I felt like we were the only ones there. During the day, we would take the boat out to the middle, where it was so deep (100feet) and spend an hour diving off the boat, getting back on and diving off again.
This week I also found out that one of my friends who I met when we flew over here together has decided to go home. She has realised that this year isn’t what she wants/ was expecting and that she is ready to return home and get on with her life. I understand this and I must say that this is a feeling that I do struggle with. I sometimes let my over-active brain go to thoughts like ‘whats going to happen after a year’?, “what do I want to do ‘when I grow up”? or even, ‘am I wasting my time over here’.
Then I had a thought, we are made up of, not one, but a million different versions of ourselves, changing each and every moment. With each thought, action, each word, each look, we change. So with that said, I owe it to the girl who worked her butt of in a coffee shop. I owe it to a girl who gave away or donated the majority of her possessions. I owe it to the girl who promised the future version of herself that she would stick this year out, and suck it of all the opportunities it has to offer. I owe it to the girl that in 10mths and 2 weeks will return home a different person and so so proud of herself that she stuck this year out.

Month 1 of life in America. July/August

Well, I have been in America for just over a month now and this is, sadly, my first blog. For all three of you out there that read my ramblings, I am aiming to update this site once a month, minimum.

Where to begin. Ok, I arrived here on Sunday 12th July and attended St John’s University for 5, 10 hour days, of au pair classes- Learning social emotional and physical development stages, food and nutrition and communication skills. I loved these classes and although I was severely jet-lagged, I learnt a lot. I met two great Australian girls- Erin (san fran) and Jess (Denver), we flew over together and are still in touch.

I caught the bus to White Plains where I was picked up by Jessica, Alex (3)& Ella(2). The first few days were spent settling in to my room and driving around Ridgefield getting to know the beautiful area. This town is so quaint and pretty… you cant even describe it.. This is a google-ed picture of what I can expect to see this winter….

The family is great, they have made me feel so welcome and I am so surprised at how quickly I feel at home. New York is so close that Ive been catching the train down every weekend. I meet up with 4 or 5 great people that I met at St Johns.. 2 Germans, 1 French and a South people.. I, sometimes with them or sometimes alone, spend the day walking through Central Park, Times Square or Greenwich Village.

One day, I had the afternoon free, I was around Broadway and about 10mins before a show begins if there are any empty seats, they knock about 60% off the price.. I got tickets to Shrek for $55 instead of $135. I went to Soho and checked out the flea markets.. went down to Brooklyn, this whole city is fun… but it requires a lot of walking and return home exhausted.

During the week, I play housewife. I cook, clean and explain to a 3 year old why putting vegetables up her nose isn’t a good idea. I have become a chief negotiator.. ‘if you put all of your toys away, without whinging, you can have a Popsicle‘… Probably not the best teaching method but it sure works. I fix things, I stir things, I make things. I can glitter-glue it and can now remove krazy glue from the kitchen counter top. I am helmet Nazi. I am scissor Nazi. I am ‘don’t run across the road’ Nazi….I am basically Hitler himself. During nap/rest time, I fall asleep next to Alex watching Tinkerbell. I know all of the Hi5 lyrics and sing them in the shower. I sit at the table and colour with the girls and without realising, continue to colour even when they have both moved onto a different activity. Sometimes I love it, sometimes I don’t

I miss home. I am happy that I have made this move but I can say that it is, without a doubt, the hardest thing I have ever done. I think that deep down, if I could snap my fingers and go home, I would.. but I know that this feeling is temporary and comes in waves. I am going to be proud of myself when I return home in a year, knowing that I have done this and I have done it by myself.