Yes

I have a life-long rule that requires me always to say  "YES" (convincingly) while going into a hair saloon, regardless of what the hair stylist would propose. This has resulted in some very very interesting cuts, none of which i particularly enjoyed

- In 2008 I wanted something short and manageable such that I could go to South America for two monts and not worry about the hair. I got this, which made me be mistaken for a boy for two months. The series of questions that lead to this was: "Short?" "Yes"; "How short?" "I don't know, what do you think?"; "Three cm short?" "Yes".

- And then I wanted bangs, and Singaporean hair stylists have experience only with cutting straight hair - sadly I can't find the picture to show you.

- Then for the wedding I wanted something fluffy. "Curls?" "Yes." "Big curls?" "Yes"

- When I came to Adelaide I wanted something shorter again, because by then I was carrying around what seemed like 5 kg of hair. The series of questions were: "Short?" "Yes" "This short?" "Yes" "Layered?" "Yes" "Straightened?""Yes". This is what I got. Please note that I really wanted a short hair cut and I really hate any form of hair straightening.

- And then on Thursday I went climbing with a version of this haircut and the hair annoyed the crap out of me, so i went to get it cut. "Short?" "Yes" "Very short?" "Yes" "Can I use the shaving machine?""Yes""I'll cut it to some length first and then you can say if you like it, ok?""Yes"[... cut cut cut]"Do you like it?""Yes". Damn, still no short hair. This one is weird, too!

The good part about this is that nobody has asked if they should die my hair, or shave it. 

A story of defeat in pictures

This week I tried to have my first run after the Goldcoast marathon and after coming back from Singapore (more on this tomorrow). It was HORRIBLE. I could barely run 2 km, and even those 2 with stops and pulls and kicks and walks. A student's offhand comment about my marathon time from last year (I have become an Internet persona - FUCK IT!) got me to look back at the photos from the finish line from last year, and compare them with this year.

2012 Finish (04:00:41): Defeated and almost dead - actually, when the girl just in front of me collapsed, I was seriously tempted :)

2011 Finish (04:07:53): Happy, no pressure.

Sigh. My superstitious self says that it must be the watch, the shoes, or the sunglasses I'm wearing, because other than that I didn't change anything in my outfit.

Shoulder muscles-wise, it's good to see that nothing has changed - they could have gotten bigger.

One picture Tuesday

I went to Singapore last week for Marian's commencement. I will have to come clean and confess that I started eating when I got off the plane, and I stopped eating when i got on it.

I pigged out on durian but not as much as I would have wanted, sadly. How can people hate this fruit?

Good to be back

Having spent the past 3 months travelling through Australia - if numerous work and/or pain visits to Brisbane, Sydney, Goldcoast, Grampians (Horsham!)  can be considered travelling - I had forgotten how absolutely glamorous Singapore is. The first hit of glamour is when you reach Changi airport and everything is shiny and spotless and pwetty.

And then if you happen to have arrived at night and you take a cab in the city, the Singapore skyline leaves you truly and utterly speechless. It's all glass and steel and fancy, funky architecture (well, at least until you reach the HDBs, but then again not many tourists do). I had never realised just how nice this actually is. Alas, while admiring it, it also dawned on me how much I would detest living in a big city again. I must admit I was a bit surprised, as it never occurred to me that I would be such a boring, homely girl. Wait, I'm not!

Anyway, it's good to be back for the besties (more musings on this tomorrow),  for the food (FOOD! FOOD!), but also to see my (former) supervisor, and to realise, just how much of a copy of him I have become*. Let the feasting and the shopping (ahem) begin!!

*minus the sociopathic micro-management issues that is.

One picture Tuesday

Well, I was going to post a picture of a durian seeing how I am going to Singapore nom nom nom! But, I decided for this instead:

Grading exam papers

Some time ago I made the (probably stupid) decision to grade all of my students' exam papers, to give me an idea about how badly I failed as a lecturer. Gah. Of course, it does not help with my general mood that I've been up from five am doing this. Anyway, I've been trying to keep myself fed and watered and coffeed and I'm taking frequent (painful - remember, yesterday's marathon?) walks around the department to try to calm myself down. But what really helps is this:

04:00:41

Oh, the fucking irony. I am sitting in the god damned Brisbane airport and literally crying in frustration (must be because i'm tired but the tears, they are flowing)

It was so fucking close and I made this stupid stupid mistake to start sprinting for the damn finish too early! And then I got a damn stitch and almost didn't make it to the finish...

DAMN! My first sub-4 marathon, so god damned close, yet so fucking far!!!!!!

Fuck it!

Fuck it, we're doomed

Early this month, Texas Republican delegates met in Fort Worth to approve their 2012 platform, notable parts of which take aim at the state's education system. Excerpts from the document can be found below:
"Classroom Discipline –We recommend that local school boards and classroom teachers be given more authority to deal with disciplinary problems. Corporal punishment is effective and legal in Texas."
"Sex Education – We recognize parental responsibility and authority regarding sex education. We believe that parents must be given an opportunity to review the material prior to giving their consent. We oppose any sex education other than abstinence until marriage"

Some things never change

This morning I overslept because I had an exam at 9:20. I woke up at 7 am, sat on the couch for a while, read a bit, then got into a superior panic that I will be late, so at about 8 am left the house.

Got into the car and into massive traffic. Stopped for coffee and rolls. Did some batshit crazy driving to get past the massive traffic jams (heh, I was trained in Bucharest) . Arrived at the exam hall at 8:30-ish am. Convinced car park lady that I'm a lecturer - why is it so hard for people to believe that?!! Parked and headed for the exam hall.
By this time I had 2 coffees on board. Went into a frantic panic when realizing that my exam was not listed.

Tried to access internet. No fucking signal available. Rushed outside. Found signal.

Exam at 1:50 pm.

I never learn.

One picture Tuesday

This is truly destiny, especially following yesterday's post. Here's what a friend played yesterday in a ferocious battle with me (no, I am not DrTitanium, I am ...):

A hierarchy of sorts

When I was young(er) (ahem) I always wanted to be sporty and cool, while my mother always insisted that I should study more. Truth be said, studying was cheaper (we were poor) and I wasn't really talented at sports either. The lack of talent is still with me today, sadly, but nowadays I can do what I bloody well please (something I was doing back then anyway*), and I have on my side the advantage that I never ever quit. So, to my mother's despair, I now enjoy sports such as climbing, running, and, for a year or so while in singapore, yoga and tennis. Needless to say and for obvious reasons, my mother absolutely loves the yoga, tennis, and the (short-distance) running, but loathes climbing, especially rock climbing (as opposed to bouldering).

I've spent the past couple of runs thinking about

• why the fuck am I running so much?
• why is climbing just the best thing is this whole wide universe?

The answer to the first one is simple: I did say a long time ago that I will run a marathon every year, but that is not really the answer, as I can (I  hope) quietly let that promise go (sneaky much?!). Truth is, the running high and the endorphins and goddam kilometers of pain are addictive, once I get past 15km or so. Another important truth, which also ties in nicely with the second question, is that running is inherently competitive, where the person you are competing with is nobody else but you.

I cannot say that yoga and tennis are not challenging - handstands, anyone? I was decent at tennis but only because I was good at running: had a lot of anger in me, could run for four hours straight on the tennis court, and had strong biceps and wrist control, hence good (but imprecise) forehand. But there is something about running that puts it above these, and I think it's the long distance, the constant counting game ("Right, I did 10 km, now only 30 km to go, that's about a quarter, if I go at this pace I'll be halfway in about an hour, and then two hours after that and we're done"), the zone where nothing matters as long as you keep going, the stories of everybody running around you** and the incredible euforia when crossing the finish line, when you feel like a king/queen (albeit a dead king/queen).

Climbing is even more like this, even if you take out the element of painful death - which you can, for a large part of rock-climbing. The mental game is more complex than "roar, you can do it!" and requires careful posing of one's self in a good, positive place, aka the 2 sq. m. zone around yourself.  The adrenaline rush is unexpected and varies from climber to climber, route to route, and move to move. It can be triggered by anything, even by casual comments from passer-bys for the most self-conscious ones of us. It also is highly dependant on the number of coffees you drank that day, which we know can be quite a problem with some of us (ahem). And despite the adrenaline rush, one still has to be extremely precise, focused and cool.

And then we come to injuries - as opposed to running, injuries in climbing are sudden (i.e. not overuse injuries as most in running), loud (ankle breaking, tendons popping, elbows, shoulders, and knee dislocating), and leave permanent psychological scars, which further complicate the mental game when one has to convince one's body to lunge, jump, and hang on particularly badly injured (in the past) limbs, especially if it's that particular move that caused the injury in the past.

And lastly, the pump. Besides the adrenaline rush, I would say the pump, and the feeling of your fingers taking all  your weight (including that caused by the pizza you binged on last night, ahem) is what makes climbing so addictive. For non climbers, a good way to experience this pump is to try open and close your fist for 10 minutes or so. And then go do a pull-up.

So, in summary: death, mental game, adrenaline, pain, pump, addiction. While I could have said that at first, and thus could have returned to the rejoinder I still have to write, I really had to get this out of my system.

* I once ran away from home to go to the local gymnastics selection - I made it to the metro station.
** I once saw a female runner guiding a blind man that seemed to be her father - they were fast, despite running on a single pairs of eyes!

This should hopefully do it

21km today, 7 more on Tuesday and that will be it. No carbs for the entire week, until a massive bread pig-out on Saturday, and hopefully finish 42km on Sunday. Firstly, without injury. Secondly, under 4:20 hrs such that I can qualify for Sixfoot Track. Again. And hopefully, manage to register and run it next year. Ah well, such is life.

Tom Yam

It took me ages to find the best tom yam recipe out there, at least "best" by my standards. I was a bit reluctant to post anything until I really got it right, as tom yam is my favourite soup of all times. Ever.

So, here it is (Disclaimer: there may be a little too much chili for the average person, please adjust quantities as appropriate).

Ingredients for the broth
2 litres of water, brought to boil
4 kefir lime leaves - torn
2-3 cm galangal, cut into small pieces (see picture)
1-2 stalks of lemongrass, cut fairly large but SMASHED!
12 bird's eye chillies (still needed about 3-5 chillies to make it spicy for me, but this one was pleasantly mild)
juice from 2 lemons (or many many limes - use limes if you have)
4 table spoons fish sauce

Ingredients for the soup:
straw mushrooms
seafood or chicken or fish or all - up to you
Optional:
carrots thinly sliced
cauliflower
broccoli

Preparation.
1. Bring water to boil
2. Dump everything in.
3. Add soup ingredients, and bring to boil.
4. Adjust salt (fish sauce), sourness (lemon) or spiciness (chillies) to taste.


1. Kefir lime leaves & galangal:

2. Cut lemongrass and then smash it (use hammer if not proper kitchen tools. If no hammer, use fat knife. If no fat knife, just section the stalks in half).

 3. Chillies (chopped fine)

4. Lemons, but limes work better.

5. Boil water and dump everything in.

One picture Tuesday

Last night I made Tom Yam soup, as promised. It was most nom!

What's done ...

... cannot be undone.

• Like running 30 km yesterday and not feeling so upbeat today (actually, feeling like I got hit by a truck. Many times.) even after 5 (FIVE) doubleshot expressos.
• Like having 5 (FIVE) doubleshot expressos and wondering why the hell do i feel so jittery
• Like mentoring somebody for a year, offering them a job, relying on them to do the job, only have them tell you that they have found something else and thus are not actually taking the job you have offered. FUCKERS.
• Like getting depressed over the above and going and polishing off a hamburger (vegetarian) considering that I was only planning to eat tom yam today.
• Like dreaming last night that I was doing one-arm pull-ups - mind you, with my good hand

Slacking

Last year I ran the gold coast marathon in 4:07-02? Minutes. This permitted me to register and join the Six Foot Track ultra-marathon in the blue mountains. It is a fantastically difficult race, with many many hills (2900m in total) and many many many down hills (3200m), river crossings, steep drops and 45 km in all. It was the first race for which I had to qualify in advance - and I was superiorly PSYCHED! about it.


And then of course, it rained. And rained. And then it got cancelled. Apparently the river crossing was so flooded it was really dangerous. Woosses. Pfft! And so, I didn't run it, but these guys tried:
Cox River Crossing, Six Foot Track


And so, I have to run gold coast marathon again. It is a flat repetitive marathon for which I stand the best chance to get under 4:10, which is the qualifying time for 6foot next year.

This year though, I havent trained*. And while I think it is possible to run a marathon in sheer will power, I am not so sure about running a 4 hour marathon WITHOUT INJURY. Needless to say, no rest for me until the marathon. It will be fun.

* i got depressed after 6foot got cancelled and my running partner had a knee surgery - I sakrificed and ran with him through his slow and steady recovery, but had no mojo to run extra runs on my own.

For fuck's sake

Dear friends, When one of my students commented that he can easily find my singapore web page with all the mountains and all the pictures and all that, I thought to myself: "well, at least he can't find my blog"... Hahahahhahaha please give me a moment to laugh myself crazy, because today marks the day when this blog goes more public than I would have ever wanted. This brings up a whole bunch of issues of privacy and appropriateness and all that, but it also brings up the more important issue of "what the fuck am i going to do now?" Do I censor myself and only talk about pretty butterflies and beautiful rainbows and unicorns [enter Charlie theme]? Do I reduce the number of swear words per line? Do I change the blog? Put up passwords? I really really like the name of the blog because it refers to a 6c climbing route in romania that I have yet to do (25 meters, dyno at the end, so now you know why I have yet to do it) . It also is kind of funny for those that know romanian. In retrospect I am glad I do not really like to blog about work (with the exception of the Motherfucker, of course) because that would have been really awkward. So now what?

One picture Tuesday

Training run in Brisbane CBD.

Romanian songs

Marian and I recently drove to the Grampians and back in two days, only to climb 4 hours. In my book, this is definitely worth the 800 km drive - I've driven more km for less, such as 5 minutes to pet some dogs, or even worse, just to buy some very good cheese pastries. But this is not what I want to talk about. While we were driving we abused youtube and Marian's telstra connection. We listened to Romanian songs from the past, and i realised that almost every song made me teary for different reasons (unsurprisingly, all songs are on the depressive side):

• dead friends
• old, sekret and never talked about love
• leaving home
• yet another long lost love (looks like I loved a lot in my younger age hahahah)
• and definitely one of my favourite songs ever

One picture Tuesday

The grampians in autumn...

The need to blog

First of all, it's been a hell of a semester, and I know this is not a good enough reason. However, this semester I had to work hard to get my teaching back on par, as well as keeping up with my admin duties and with my research. And I did, and in my usual fashion, I gave it all I had and then some. And got a teaching award as well as students clapping at the end of my last lecture. I'm not so psyched about the award but I am psyched about the clapping, I must admit! I went all out on this and of course there was nothing left for blogging - almost nothing left for eating or climbing as well. In the months that passed, i have come to realize that I need blogging for two reasons: - firstly, it helps me keep track of time and also mark those events that mean something. This is important because i feel that it's just too easy to get trapped into a whirlwind and forget about everything else. Time seems to go by much faster than it used to, wtf? - secondly, and most importantly, I am not only writing for myself but for dodo and san (and jensen! and everybody else!), whom i miss dearly almost every hour of every single fucking day. So yeah, here's to new beginnings!

Back

Finally decided to post again, and also decided to start this with a cat photo.

Grand Canyon

Here's a very very overdue post about hiking. In December 2011, I hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon and back. All by myself. I do not consider it an extraordinary hiking accomplishment, except for the scary oh so scary trek in the middle of the night.

Because you see, the trek is advertised as hard to difficult and on all the panels and all the brochures you are advised NOT to attempt trekking to the bottom of the canyon and back in the same day. I figured I could do this as it was winter (and not the peak of summer, as the brochures seemed to suggest), and also I could turn back anytime I wanted and thought I was not going to make my cut-off time (<- these sound like famous last words, right?!)

Then, because I was supposed to catch a bus at 12, I woke up at 4 am and started. Turns out, 4 am is THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, a time during which

A) it might snow
B) it might be dark
C) it might be freezing
D) all of the above.


And so I froze, and it was pitch dark and it was scary and it snowed for about half my trek. And I had an amazingly scary feeling of being all alone in the quiet and the darkness and the cold.

And then I got to the bottom of it. And the sunrise came.

And I walked a bit further and saw this! The Colorado river!

And the sun got warmer, but it still could not warm up the old bones:

After this, I had to turn around and walk back. Turns out, you walk 3km down to the bottom of it, and then 3 km straight back up. The trek itself is pretty tame, but some people chose to take the mules!

This was the slippery slippery snow (there's eternity on the left of the path) - I was so glad I had my walking poles!

One last look before ending it:

And a nice, freezing sunset on the drive back to Phoenix. Here's to getting out of the house more!

One picture Tuesday

One of the advantages (heh) of living during communist times was that we didn't get to taste Coca-Cola until maybe very late 80s, by which time we were already 7-ish year old. Another advantage would be that we didn't know how things and brands were called until we had been using them for a while (see for example how we romanians say "Nike").

A particular brand is 7UP. I was absolutely convinced that it is actually ZUP because of how the logo looked. I was convinced that it is called ZUP for many many years, until I saw and heard the commercial.

The smell of paper

I love my Kindle. I really do. It is the bestest for many reasons. 1. It is the old kindle, so it has these really really nice buttons on the sides. This allows me to easily change pages. None of that annoying swipe to change the current page for me! 2. It carries many many MANY books, which is great. In particular for the book I am reading now (Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell), this is very good, as the book itself is 798 pages. PAGES! The only problem I have with the Kindle is that, after about two years of using it, I find myself really missing paper books. Not only do I miss paper books (which obviously results in me buying tons and tons of paper books at one go), but I find that I never re-read books that I have read on the kindle. This is because I can't see them on the bookshelf and therefore am not reminded by the fun times I had while reading them.

Sandra and I are nursing...

... A baby.

Our baby is very demanding. He does not allow us to sleep, which makes us dizzy for the entire day.

Our baby is very fussy about his food and does not allow us to enjoy ours.

Our baby only wants to eat chicken soup - either the jewish or the chinese variety, he is not fussy about that. However, he only wants to eat chicken soup and nothing else.

Our baby gives us left-side headaches and makes us feel very dizzy. This is how we know it's our baby.

Our baby did not allow me to run yesterday.

Our baby did not allow Sandra to climb yesterday.

Our baby is brought in this relationship by either Sandra or myself, we are yet not clear about that. We do, however, blame each other. There are no such things as "accidents" nowadays.

Guess what our baby is.

I'll see you in September

I hate it when long weeks seem soo long when you start them, and then midway you realize that they are only 7 days long. The time to say goodbye is coming soon, or has already come in some cases. Said hello to Jensen yesterday and said goodbye again one hour and a half later. Turned around quickly and left in a hurry because I was getting teary ->> Oh my, I am still bad at leaving people: you would think that after all this training I would finally get good at something. Or maybe I am the eternal trainee, who knows?

Will say goodbye again to friends tonight, and then again on Saturday & Sunday. The image of san crying last time and of me crying all the way to adelaide (without having any tissue with me!) is not helping right now and it didn't help last night either. This obviously needs to be reframed into a "until next time" thing because I really don't think I can take it.

I just wish we could all live together in the same place forever. But then again, i wish we would all live forever, and for africa to be food-full and peaceful, and for all of us to shit rainbows off our (skinny!) asses. And one obviously can't have them all.

The concert

The singer is fat and much older than I remember her, from what is probably sixteen years ago. Two sikh men in the audience have serious bellies, serious faces and even more serious turbans. One of them has a jet black santa-like beard, and the other one has a snow white santa-like beard as well. They stand up and they sing the lyrics and dance, raising their arms up in the air.

For a Singaporean audience, this concert is most happening. We all know the lyrics to at least 80% of the songs. Botak Jones, a somewhat famous western food joint, is sponsoring the concert, and you wonder if they will be sponsoring Beiber fifteen years from now, if he will still be able to sing by then - God help us if he is!

When the guitars start the first beats of Zombie, everybody is standing and you can feel the static in the air.

By the end of the concert, the image of the skinny girl from sixteen years ago is completely replaced by the woman with flabby arms and deflated tattoos. And it really doesn't matter, because boy oh boy can she sing!

Good to be back

... In Singapore. And see everybody, and especially see San and Dodo. We had a hectic day yesterday, when me, dodo and san went shopping. I must say that I had forgotten just how crowded and busy singapore is. I guess living in the countryside Adelaide really makes one forget. I had also forgotten just how consumerist and branded singapore is. Nearly everyone is wearing superiorly branded clothes, shoes, watches, phones, etc. Old people use iPads and iPhones while they get their feet massaged in the airport. Kids on the very very crowded MRT start crying, and their parents immediately hand them an iPad to cool down that angsty spirit.

I had also forgotten how it is to walk walk around all day. In adelaide I am mostly confined to my office and my car, and the climbing gym and running track. But boy oh boy, is walking around while shopping an endurance sport! Today was spent seeing Jud, Ely bear, Planet, Reg, Northern Lights and Uncle Pan and the fat pig while we flew kites and stunt kites at marina barrage. The atmosphere was just like the old days during training and i really really enjoyed it. And also pigged out on the durian cake that the dodo bird bought (MOST YUM!) We all look like we are part of team singapore kite flying! I guess while during the most depressing days in Adelaide I was complaining about how much I missed them, it's really being here with them that makes me realize indeed how much that was.


... And yes, I bought lots of clothes and lots of branded stuff too :)

Yay. Getting away.

Turns out that teaching 2.5 courses and having 150 students whose needs and problems are only your concern, is a VERY FUCKING tiring job. Turns out (who would have thought) that I may get grumpy when I'm stressed. And I may loose my patience. So far, it has not happened at all with any of the students (yay!) but yesterday it was a first for me. Firstly, I had a young master student that is also a young mother come into my office with her little baby and talk about her code. Needless to say, the baby was not quiet :) And then, a student's mother called me, to tell me about her boy.

I find that I can easily manage the third year students, but I have such a hard time understanding and learning how to talk with year ones. Oh well. Good thing the year ones are only the 0.5 from the 2.5 .

Yesteerday I saw through time

Some colleagues, on finding that I CAN indeed eat very very spicy food, gave ma chili habanero plant. The plant took its time to flower and produce chilies. In fact, it only produced one (ONE) chili in three months.

The chili is pictured on the left. I totally underestimated it, and, thinking that it would be not spicy as with everything people have given me, I took a VERY big bite.

And then I saw through time. I was that spicy. Or the bite was that big. Regardless. I saw through time.

And I'm back!

After giving birth to the grant last week and training up for the trail marathon, I am back. The Blue Mountains, six foot track trail marathon. You ask me, how was it?!

Well, I'll tell you. It was ...

CANCELLED.

Because of the fucking Sydney floods. Apparently, a couple of the river crossings we were going to cross got fucked up and then they were too deep for us to cross. Could have drowned. Dammit!

I feel like one of those wired duracell rabbits that are so ready to go but have nowhere, NOWHERE to run. DAMMIT!!

The blue mountains are truly evading me this year!

Last week I gave birth

... To a grant proposal. This semester I am teaching and coordinating 2.5 courses. That is, I am the coordinator for two courses - three if you count the Singapore one - and teaching half of another one. This is suddenly so loaded because, as you know, a colleague has leukemia and another one has a retina problem. And there you have it, we all have to chip in and do stuff. Which we, or at least I, do. But boy is it tiring!

Mondays are especially tiring because I have two two-hour lectures back to back and a one hour tutorial. This literally saps me of any possible energy and positive vibe. It's taken it's toll on the second lecture because I'm obviously at my least entertaining ten.

As usual, this can be easily solved by coffee :)

One picture Tuesday

The advantages of living at the other end of the universe are that you can pick your garden while everybody else is freezing.

How not to die during bouldering

It's very simple: get a good spotter and ensure s/he is spotting you when you climb. It's as simple as that, really.

Yesterday I was trying this route in the grampians. It has to be probably the hardest v4 in the world. I think it's the kind of problem that San would absolutely love: you start with your right hand on a sloper and your left on a jug, on a roof. Your left foot is hooking and toe-ing at the same time, on two knobs. Your right leg is stepping. You let go of your left hand, come to the side of the roof on the right, on two crimps, to a big overhang move.

Anyway. Yesterday I tried it 20 times an left it. Came back at the end of te day, with my fingers sore and dead tired. On the last attempt though, i managed to get to the end topout. And then I slipped.

It was a microsecond fall. Luckily, my spotter was spot on and saved me from banging my head on a log. However, he did this by literally pushing my head forward. Which made me really bite my tongue. I almost chopped a side off, and it's now hanging by a thread. But I could have died without him.

So yeah. Get a spotter. Make him or her actually spot you, not talk to other people or whatever. It will save your life.

One picture Tuesday

I may have a chili addiction problem. Nowadays I'm so tired and stressed that I need a double shot of chillies to get me happy!

Melbourne

I have been traveling with my mom for this past weekend, in Melbourne. As usual when we travel together, we pig out and walk around like madwomen. A bit of shopping, a bit of eating (ha!) but most importantly, about 15 km per day.

Good thing that Melbourne has some free tourist buses that go around the city. They make for good afternoon naps, I tell ya!

One of the reasons I like Melbourne is that they have ornamental chillies all around!

I really don't like this February

First of all, I turned 30. Who would have thought?

Second of all, my old dog died. He was 16. He was an old gentleman indeed. My first ever dog, he taught me how much of a puppy I really am. I guess I am still processing this. I get random bouts of crying when I think of him and of how he died alone in my mother in law's house.

My mom is visiting me right now and she left him with my mother in law. I am really looking forward to a new month.

I killed my phone.

With my sweat. That's how I killed it. Because this is how you kill phones.

This Saturday I went for a longer run, about 20+km. This run involved running up a very steep hill 727m. Twice. So I went up, down, up, and down again.

It was raining, and half-way through marian returned with my rain jacket. Which I dutifully wore (thanks babe!) but I put my iPhone 4S (goddamit!) in its pocket.

Turns out, especially if you run uphill for a long time, your body heats up a lot, especially since the jacket does not allow for breathing. And so, water condenses in it. Especially in the pockets. And then, the iPhone 4S, is not waterproof, unlike his cousin, the iPhone 1.

Lo and behold, the jacket that killed my phone!

Fuck it, I'm 30.

Another year gone, another year closer to death. And with this I guess I could close this blog and go to sleep, for like 20 years or so. And wake up around 50, because apparently this is when you feel that 30 is. Young.

I've been terrified of dying since I was 3. And ever since it was possible, I have been living my life as if I were to die the next second. I will admit that this is kinda intense, but I had never thought that it might be a problem. Or that it might be (too) tiring - am finding that sometimes, it might just be, too tiring. I have been close to death once. I felt it. It was crisp, clear, silent, and very close, and it did not bother me much at the time (only afterwards it was ohmygodohmygodohmygod).

I am coming closer to death now, as i'm growing older (damnit!) and leukemia (a.k.a the bitch) is once again threatening people around me. I guess the main problem with this kind of possibility of death is that it is much more overwhelming than the one you walk into because you just enjoy doing stupid things. And you can't just kick it in the balls and tell it to "LEAVE MY FRIENDS ALONE!"

So yeah. 30. And rambling (still). Might still have 30 good years in me, so this is not the end of the universe, although it sure feels like it.

One picture Tuesday

My colleague has leukemia. Damn it. And as a result I have five, FIVE, zits on my face.

And Sydney has vending machines with flip-flops. Spot the two trivia.

Oh no oh no oh no oh no

Just found out that one of the nicest guys from work may have either acute leukemia OR a very serious and exotic viral infection. He has a 7 year old girl and two 3-year old twins that are just adorable. Will find out on Monday, and it's horrible to wait that long. At this stage, I am hoping and begging for an acute, serious, exotic viral infection. Oh please oh please oh please.

He called me this morning, right after I had sent an email asking them all to come celebrate my birthday. I wrote my usual phrase, "Turns out, we all get old(er) and eventually, die. " AARGH.

He first asked about how was my australia day. And then told me his news. Oh no oh no oh no oh no.

I guess one of the things in becoming an adult (?!) is that you face the prospect of death and disease more frequently than you would love to (never). I just hope to wake up Monday and see it was an infection. Oh please oh please oh please.

Australians

Really have a sense of humor. Or maybe south australians really have a sense of humor. In SA and I think throughout Australia, you can customize the number plates on your car. And of course, while you get the occasional ANDY 032 or whatever, some of those I see are priceless. Sometimes, I even have the phone with me, to take pictures.

You gotta love this one

Well, at least he is not a fan of "The Young and The Restlees"!

Definitely a surprise there!

Guess the race!

A little bit of irony, as queenslanders are considered a bit of rednecks around here

And of course, just in case you forgot what make your car is...

Australians have a sense of humor

They DO! And it shows in many many places (see my next post), but where it shows unexpectedly is in the name of various products.

Like the diesel ether-based engine starter spray called:

Or the anti-possum spray to be sprayed on various plants (including chilies - this is how i found out about it)

One picture Tuesday

Just got back from the grampians (trip report to follow). Among many other things, we climbed for 10 hours on Saturday. Felt like this lizard on a rock and totally loved it.

This little bugger spent about two hours with us, before leaving to take care of its own business. Life is good.

Loving it in the grampians

Decided to take the weekend off and go bouldering in the grampians. This is despite the numerous deadlines and stuff, but I reckoned I needed to get the Motherfucker out of my system. It is amazing that a week and a half has passed and he hasn't said anything to me... Coward!

Anyway, loving it in the grampians! Sent a v2, v3, and 2 v5-s - the grade itself doesn't matter, but the routes were beautiful!

The three second brain

I can't remember where I shared my new year's (climbing) resolution. Was it here? was it on facebook? Or did I twit it to my three other halves? Or whatsapp with only one of them? Did I talk about the latest book I've read at a dinner party? Or was it on goodreads? Was I able to say something convincing about it or just blab: "it was so cool! by this author whose name I can't remember, let me google him"

When did I have a good, significant, important thought? It was definitely last year, because I've spent this whole year getting over how it started*. And if it was last year, where in god's name did I share it? And what was it?

Have I always been like this? Or is it just stress? Or still shock? (Motherfucker, i am looking at you). More importantly, do I need (another) holiday? Welcome to the new year!


*I am still not over it, Motherfucker. May your balls drop off you like the coward that you are.

PS. T. and I made it to the forums! Motherfucker complained about us! Here's the whole story! (Guess who fatclimber is, hahaha)

One picture Tuesday

Last night T. wanted to talk to F., to get closure or make up. Although I knew that this was the worst possible thing ever, I drove him to F.'s place. This makes me partly responsible for whatever extra pain T. is going to get from this relationship. Because I am absolutely convinced that, while apparently T.'s love knows no bounds, F. is just a motherfucker. And also, the pain is only going to go up - I should know, I was driven or drove myself many times.

Here's to better things in life.

The irony

The route that generated all the batshit craziness was called "Sincerity".

Life is much better ...

Than the movies. Or, "A series of unfortunate events".

I met my colleague (F.) and his partner in the Blue Mountains, to climb. I was incredibly psyched by this trip, because as most people would know, I am a wuss when it comes to leading, and as such I really needed the practice. My colleague's partner (let's call him T.), is a very good climber, at least by my standard (not very high, but still). He also weighs 54 kg and is about 1.75+ meters tall. Hence, he has everything going for him. Damn! F. on the other hand, outweighs him by 28kg, and I guess all those 28 kgs are muscle - you will see soon why I'm talking weights here.

You may remember F. as my new-found beginner climber. I do enjoy introducing people to climbing, and I always say that if somebody long ago took the trouble to show me how to climb, I should do the same for other people. Anyway, F. had everything going for him, being a colleague and very fit and also, from a latin american country - can practice my Spanish!

And so we met on the first of January. We climbed a bit then and everything seemed to be going smoothly. I had my first lead with a very bouldery start. The feeling between the three of us seemed to be quite cool and it looked like we were going to have a blast.

And then we got to the campsite and realized that one of the tents (a 2-person tent), in which I was supposed to sleep, got stolen. And so, suddenly the three of us were sharing a 4 person tent. Not bad, plenty of space, but definitely and invasion from my part on their privacy. Damn!

The second day went by just fine, with all of us, especially F., being a bit more grumpy. The plan was for F. to climb as many routes as possible on the third day, and for T. and I to do a 10 pitch sports climb (FIVE STARS in the guide book, 345 m!!!!!!) on the fourth day, and then leave on the fifth day.

In the third day, we climbed some cracks (I do hate them), and then T. decided he was going to climb this face that only had bolts in it but the bolts had no bolt hangers. Normally nowadays people buy the bolt hangers and put them in, but in times of emergency it always works if you tie a sling with a crab. Anyway, the route was very easy (an australian 13, which is like a 4b, 6a if we count how hard the routes in the blue mountains are) and T. started climbing it. While he was climbing, we were talking cock about how he shouldn't fall in case the bolts are rusty and he will fall on us and die etc. Anyway, he climbs the route and puts a top rope on the anchor (two rings with a chain between them). I lower him down.

F. starts to yell at him that the route was not safe and that T. should not have climbed it etc. I tell him to relax cause T. was safe all the time. At which point he tells me in a very agressive manner to "Shut the fuck up". I move away from the area because I want to give them some space to let it all out. They continue to argue and then F. slaps T. over the head (thank god for helmets). At this point F. starts to pack his stuff up and leaves us with all the gear.
This leaving thing will continue throughout the day. As he is leaving, he tells me that "the trip is over" and that "he will leave stuff at the camp for us".

T. and I are shaken by the whole affair and spend about an hour at the base of the wall. I then clean up the route and we proceed the looong trek to camp. Seven kilometers from the parking lot, and about 2 km from the crag to the parking lot. Full gear on for the both of us, as F. left us everything. After trekking for a while, and almost reaching the gas station that was 5km from camp, F. drives past and asks us if we want to take our laptops from the car. He gives us two options, he literally says: "you have two options, either take them now, or I leave them in the tent". Seeing how stuff got stolen, we decide to take the laptops out of the car.

Eventually we reach camp. He had left everything. Literally T. and I were left to somehow carry 60kg of stuff to Adelaide, 1,300 km from the blue mountains. The stuff he left included a four person tent, stove and pots, clothes, books I had lent him three months earlier and where somehow in the car. He left no food, but we had four granola bars, a bag of banana chips, a small parcel of almonds. I had 28% left on my phone battery. And we had absolutely no idea how to get back to Adelaide.

But we did get back. The next day we packed everything. I still don't know how it fit. It didn't actually fit all, but my backpack was 70l and it could take a lot. Thank god for that.

We still had three extra bags between us, which weighed 3, 6, and 9 respectively. A climber (may he climb 8c!!) offered to drive us to the train station, thus saving us the 5 km trek. From there we took the train to Sydney. We tried to get a train to Adelaide, but for that you need one month prior booking. The guy at the ticket office actually laughed at us: "where do you think you're going?!" In the end we bought a plane ticket for the next day at 6am. We sort of walked around Sydney looking for food. We spent the night in a McDonald's near the airport and arrived in Adelaide yesterday. Our checked-in bags weighed 29 and 27 kg respectively. It is not much if you don't have to carry it, I guess.

I am still incredibly shaken by all this and trying to process it in any way I can - hence this blog post. What I forgot to say is that F. even called T.'s family in the states, to tell them that T. is doing risky dangerous stuff. Imagine, getting a call like that in the middle of the night.

Motherfucker. Sleezeball. Asshole. Bastard..

I have never felt that i will totally erase somebody from my memory, like I feel now.

All iz better

I don't want to end the week in a negative mood. I am feeling better, thanks to everybody's comments both here and offline. Went for a short run today and! Stuffed my face with some cherries. Here's who I met on my run:

Happiness only real when shared

Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, died this morning during the Battle of the Five Armies. Or at least he died in my version of "The Hobbit", which I almost finished reading today.

Because you see, I couldn't finish it. Not this morning, at least.

I never cry. Until everything stacks up and then I cry for everything. And usually what sets it off is either a random book (dumbledore's death is memorable) or a movie (Up for example). And if there's nobody there to distract my attention (very easily done, mind you) I cry and I cry and I cry. Today I cry for being alone, for the silence on the campus (everybody's on leave), for my old dog, for dead friends, for dying friends, for missing my family, for the smell of christmas in my grandmother's house, and for missing Marian, and friends.

And since I'm still tired after the US trip, I am still crying. I stopped briefly this morning, and continued during lunch - while talking to Marian- and then really started again at around 5:30 pm. Cried while driving to the climbing gym. And crying now while writing this.

However, this time I must have banged my head or something - or really froze in the grand canyon - because I feel like going to buy myself a pack of cigarettes and take a nice, long, drag out of one. And then light it, and probably faint because of the toxicity. This is the first time I felt like smoking since I missed the Zurich flight in 2008. I feel guilty and also ready to tell myself to suck it up. And also ready to tell myself to LEAVE ME ALONE!

Ah, first world dilemmas! I got myself addicted to cigarettes, and then I quit, and now poor little me is alone and needs some comfort, and wants to smoke again. Boo hoo hoo.

That being said, depression is a bitch, and no matter how many cool and feel-happy things I do, they are worth absolutely nothing if there's nobody (even a blog, or, a dog :) ) to share them with.