The Contingency Plan

After extensively searching your main real estate internet portals, I would like to suggest the following:

• 'Brand new' and 'three years old' do not mean the same thing
• Posting a picture of the property’s back yard (and not of the actual house or its interiors) will not entice me to lease it, especially if it will cost me extra to maintain the yard
  
• 'Quiet surroundings' really means the bush or the boonies
• What does ‘Executive Style’ mean? Will I want to hold business meetings in this townhouse? Will the interior design look like my office?
  
• An internal intercom system is not the same as a solid alarm system, it just means I can see the robbers before they bust through my door
  
• Listing properties that have been leased long ago will not make me think you have an extensive client list, it will make me think you’re lazy
• Please don’t list an open house time and add it's subject to change without notice, just ask me to contact your office for an inspection
  
• Gas and electricity should never be listed as 'extra features'
  

*Deep breath*

I've had my say...

Although it's only been a week, I'm eager to move on. Don't get me wrong, I'm still very sad, but so much good has happened in the midst of this and I want to stay positive and productive.

After only a couple weeks we've managed to find new tenants for our home and will move out in two week's time. Perfect timing because....

The family are all gathering at our house this year for Christmas. It will be our first Christmas together since my parents' divorce four years ago. We seemed to manage just fine together at recent events (Kerry's wedding and Hugo's birthday), and both parents have been warned to behave for a day so I'm hopeful. Ha.

And although many of our friends won't visit us in the 'real' burbs, I'm looking forward to the move. The new place has just been finished and features double the living space of our current home. We'll be near our close friends Drew and Tim and Kris and Jamie and my family will be nearby so we can see them all in a regular every day way. I hope that'll be a positive.

And my business with Chloe is simply booming. We won two desirable accounts last week and a were rated a perfect 10/10 after holding a Sydney and Melbourne media launch for important business press by a Client. This means we now have four substantial Clients and find ourselves working nearly every day. I find myself really happy and excited about work and think Chloe is an ideal business partner. What a relief.

And because my business is bringing in a favourable amount of money we're thinking we might stay in Sydney and delay our move to Canada... it's something to contemplate.

Althought I've thought about it often I haven't been able to find the energy to write about my Uncle Camel's death yet so I will in point form and then through a letter I received tonight from my brother Harry in Taiwan. The whole story seems surreal to me. It's so fucked up and the loss has left me feeling hollow and depressed. I'm finding it hard to eat and can't imagine what my mother and her siblings are feeling.

* Leading up to the event, my Uncle Camel had abandoned his family - his wife and two daughters and had developed a serious drinking habit
* He'd borrowed money off my Uncle Ding (over US$20k) and from serious gangsters my cousin is involved with to invest in a chicken farm in China
* The woman who apparently owned the chicken farm kept demanding more money for chicken feed, etc so my Uncle Camel grew further in debt
* This woman then took all the money and disappeared
* To this day my family cannot find her
* Uncle Camel fled to China to track down this woman and hide from the gangsters
* He found the chicken farm but bird flu then hit and they had to kill all the chickens
* My Aunty and cousin flew to China to bride the officials for my Uncle's body. They then had to bride them again to ensure they cleaned the oven out from the cremation before my uncle's. Apparently they don't normally do this as they seriously don't care.

This is the letter my brother wrote to me and my younger sister tonight:

Hi,

Well, things are going as well as they could go here. The plane ride was boring but it was hard too cause at one stage mum broke down crying so I was comforting her. Uncle Ding has been over these last few days too. He's really affeected by Uncle Camel's death. HE broke down crying last night too. Saiad he hasn't been able to concentrate at work or really mourn properly but he did last night. It's hard to see.

Aunty Jacky and Mou Mou (our cousin) are coming back from China with Uncle Camel's ashes tomorrow night. It turns out that he committed suicide after heavy drinking. Mum said that his living conditions were worse than when she grew up, he only had a few outfits, one pair of shoes and no toilet. He wrote his will on a cigarette packet. He was swindeled out of about $40,000 by a woman and her family. He helped them get out of debt and open up a chicken farm but she took his money and left him in the slum. Mum says that he wasn't someone who held grudges but he cursed her in his will down to 10 generations. He was really hurt by this woman. He wrote that he helped bring her out of hell but she just turned around and put him into hell.

Wei Chen and Go May (Uncle Camel's two daughters) haven't been scoring many runs with the family. They didn't call up to thank their uncles and aunties for helping to bring Uncle Camel back or even check to see how things were going. They say that their mum doesn't want them to go to the funeral so they won't go but that's a crock. I told mum that they're not children and that nothing's stopping them from going to the funeral if they really wanted to. It seems to me that they are pretty angry at their dad for not being there but still. he's their dad so they should go. Mum's firing up about it.

We're off to the night markets now. I'm getting the hurry up from May (another cousin). I'll keep you updated as to what's happening. Love you both. Say hi to dad for me.

Peace out,
Harry.

When I was younger I loved our family trips to Taiwan. We'd usually stop over in an exotic location like the the Phillipines Islands and then visit my mother's warm, crazy and loving family.

Although we didn't see them often, I instantly knew they were my kind. There was an immediate intimacy, affection and most importantly, understanding. I knew their expressions, humour and moods as they reflected those of my mother. I was in company full of comfort and belonging and even my father who couldn't fully understand the language felt it too.

I especially admired my two uncles - Uncle Ding and Uncle Camel. Both share an incredibly funny sense of humour. Uncle Ding was a super cool Asian heart throb who used to take me shopping for stationary (I was obsessed with it as a child) who later married a famous pop star and Uncle Camel was the man with a pet monkey (he would train it to do tricks), who could stand on a chair without bending his legs, touch the ground, compete with me at Tetris (I was a champ) and later fled his family to China on the run from gangsters (wow, just like the movies!).

As a child I also loved the frantic pace of the city, the nightmarkets and how I was never alone. The houses of my uncles and aunties were consistently noisy, but behind the clutter were secret stories whispered while garlic sizzled in a pan or vegetables were thrown around a wok about my grandparents, my mother's childhood and her past.

The history of my mother's family reflects that of a Chinese book or soap opera, except the drama is laced with wide reaching pain that has cripled them emotionally. My mother and her siblings experienced such poverty and every abuse imaginable as children and I remember crying when I first saw a picture of my mother and aunty as a child as their suffering was so visible in their young faces. I wished I could have rescued them.

I think my father felt the same way when he first married my mother and brought her to Australia.

***

I called my friend Sebastian yesterday to see how he was holding up after the loss of his twin brother Adrian. My thoughts and prayers are often with him and his family. Even though I try, I can never understand their grief. Nevertheless, I'd like to be the kind of friend who is consistently there in support, not just when the news hits.

Sebastian went back to work this week and has asked me to gather all of our old friends to have a party in Adrian's honor and of course I'm going to do this. I also called his mother to see how they are and hope to visit her next week with Hugo. The last time we visited was before we left for Canada, before Adrian's funeral, and even though I brought cake too sweet for her to eat and Hugo spilt coffee all over her kitchen, she asked us to see her again and I want to stay true to that.

My thoughts were shadowed with thoughts of death and grief for the rest of the day. Luc was also solemn and stayed awake for hours after Hugo and I went to sleep.

***

My mother tells me China is a dark place to live, especially for those from Taiwan. Relations between the two countries are so strained that the Chinese don't give a damn for those living there from Taiwan.

Although he died on November 18, news of my Uncle Camel's death reached my family in Taiwan just this morning via fax. Chinese officials were in no hurry to notify my family.

The official story is that he committed suicide, felt he only brought dishonour to the family and wanted to donate his body to a hospital as a last good deed, but we feel he was found and murdered by the gangsters he was hiding from. His will sounds dubious, especially as the officials merely faxed a typed except from it and not the original document.

One of my cousins has to travel to China to identify her father's body, which will be hard as officials are refusing to release it to the family. Uncle Ding is too distraught to make the journey. Uncle Camel called him a month ago to ask for money but Uncle Ding said no. Uncle Camel responded by saying he might as well organise the delivery of his body home but everyone thought he was crying wolf again like he had so many times in the past.

So one of my aunties will take my cousin and has already started the reems of paperwork required. Although my grandmother now lives in her homeland of China, no one is telling her the news due to her fragile health.

I called my mother after Harry had told me and left a message on her answering machine. She called back moments later and I was unable to understand much of what she was saying as her words were choked with guttal cries for her baby brother.

She wants to be alone today and organise travel plans to go back home. Harry will be going with her for support. She made me promise that if she died I would cremate her body and take her home to be with her brother and father.

I'm not quite sure how to end this post.

When I woke up this morning I didn't expect to become something I loathe - a real estate property manager. It's hard to think of a worse job.

But we want to move and break our lease so I'm happy to do whatever it takes to find another tenant.

I don't know what it is about the real estate industry here, but we've only dealt with three good agents in all our years of renting. And in that time we've had agents hold inspections without informing us, miscalculate our payments and issue a lease termination when we were a month ahead and even an open house viewing (we weren't renewing the lease) without letting us know.

But the worst was when our agent neglected to fix our hot water system leaving us without hot water for over a month. In winter. We refused to pay our rent, he took us to the Fair Trading Tribunal without informing us, where he lied and we were forced to move. When we found out what had happened afterwards, argued against the decision, won and moved out anyway.

I get along with our current agent really well and she thought I did such a good job of showing our property today that she offered me a job.

I don't think so.

In a span of a year we've moved from the red to the grey and now we're going to the black... excuse me while I silently sob.

I imagine divorce is particularly hard for older couples who have dedicated 20+ years to marriage. I don't how I'd adjust to all the time alone and the loss of someone I'd share so many memories with.

Dad's over our house at the moment. After seeing him at the wedding last Saturday and at Hugo's birthday party on Sunday, he called this afternoon to see if he could pop by as he'd just finished a job in the area.

When he arrived he was still in his construction gear. His big truck was parked out front and after taking off his dirty work boots we shared a cup of tea, chatted and I then offered him a change of clothes, a big towel and our spare room to nap in. He was thankful and while making dinner I wondered how long it's been since someone has really taken care of him. Mum used to do everything for him - wash and buy his clothes, make his meals, she kept him healthy and young and his looks have aged at least 10 years since their divorce.

But beyond feeling bewildered today, there's a palpable sense of sadness, lonliness and regret in him. Although I know it's a result of his foolish actions he's still my father, which is why after all the crappy things he's done I won't reject his company, will make sure he's taken his stomach medication and not drinking too much, make him dinner and pack some extra for his lunch the next day.

In an effort to save more money for our move overseas we're currently breaking our lease to move even further out west (sob). We'll be closer to my family and a big part of me wonders whether it's happening to heal some of our relationships before I go.

Here's to hoping.

I mentally created this list tonight while patiently waiting (50 mins) for Hugo to sleep... And yes, this post will fit into the 'too much information' box in some parts so beware....

5. I was never an adventurous girl. Despite my parents giving me a farm load of pets (rabbits, dog, cat, sheep and goat), I never really bonded with animals, feared water until I was eight and was a little apprehensive when I received my first pair of rollerskates a year later. Nevertheless I tried them out and was soon found skating up and down our road in matching pink and white outfits. That is, until I fell and cracked a bone in my arm. I went crying to my mother, who offered no sympathy and told me to suck it up. She did this for three days and later cried when the doctor gave her my x-ray results. Yes, I was a poster-child for child neglect.

4. Although the drive from our home to my high school took five minutes, my parents refused to take me so I walked every morning for thirty minutes instead. One day while crossing a quiet street, I slipped on the curb and cracked my ankle. Two hours later had a plaster cast up to my thigh and was thoroughly unimpressed as our year picture was to be taken the next week. I'd like to say the miracle happened as a result of ridiculously standing out in the first row of students but two weeks later I was walking on my cast. Don't ask me how, but I was somehow misdiagnosed. And still made to walk to school.

3. Before giving birth I had a strong sense of body privacy. I'd never been treated in hospital and the worst medical prodding was a routine pap smear, which is nothing really to complain about. But the whole experience of child birth shattered this. Beyond the usual hangups, I completely lost bladder control. Make me laugh and I would uncontrollably pee myself. So dignified. And then I lost the sense of when I needed to poo, but I think the icing on the cake was when a nurse had to consequently administer a rectal examination. A student nurse. Luc was outside of the curtain shamelessly cracking jokes and before long the three of us were laughing loudly, which helped the situation at the time but made the nurse's actions a little jerky. I consequently got hemmoroids.

2. Sydney is swarmed with bugs in summer. And some areas are worse than others. I'm particularly picky about where I live because old homes are often plagued with cockroaches or other unidentified flying objects that are a pest to control/kill. One night when I was 12, I was asleep in bed when I heard the most shattering sound in my right ear drum. I was screaming with pain and my parents rushed me to the local medical centre where a doctor examined my ear. He filled it up with a warm oil-like liquid, washed it out and then sent me home. But the problem persisted. I found it hard to hear and the pain was still there so a week later my parents took me to my regular doctor who examined my ear and quickly washed it out again. And the result is something only my family knows of...... because out washed a tiny cockroach and an egg. Yes, a small flying cockroach had crawled into my ear, layed an egg in there, died when the first doctor poured oil in there and then stayed there for a whole freaking week before being removed. I can't begin to describe how dirty that still makes me feel. I slept with cotton wool in my ears for years after that.

1. I couldn't really think of another one and wanted five so this is one I've stolen from my brother Harry. When Harry was completing his final year of high school he had a very extreme reaction to stress (or something else) and half of his face stopped moving. He didn't think much of it and didn't tell Mum for weeks. In fact, I was the one who told her. It was so bad that if he smiled only half of his face would light up, you could literally draw a line down the middle. Only half of his mouth would curl up, only one cheek would rise and only one eye would squint. I would deliberately make him laugh just to see it. It was totally trippy. I can't remember all the details, but it eventually went away, much to Harry's relief.

Life has moved on so quickly since my last post.

Our finances have dramatically improved, we're selling our car, but have managed to find another gem around $20k cheaper than our current model, which works out perfectly.

Luc and I have also decided to move deeper into Sydney's suburban sprawl. We really want our own place so spending $630 a week on rent isn't logical. We've discovered a goldmine of larger homes out west (still in a lovely area) for half the amount, around a 30 minute drive from downtown (traffic permitting) and think it'll be good to be closer to my family for this time.

And on the subject of that lot, we all attended the wedding of a very close family friend on the weekend (Mum sat with the parents of the bride kinda close). Dad saw Hugo for the first time since he was a month old, Mum and I spoke for the first time since our last argument and in a spirit of amnesty I invited them both to a birthday party we're holding for Hugo on Sunday to mark his big number one. Gasp.

And despite it being a little uncomfortable, it was nice. We even took a photo together to mark the occasion/stand as proof. Dad got drunk very fast, stole alcohol from other people's tables, I broke it down with Hugo on the dancefloor, Natasha sang to everyone's delight, we all joined in when they did the 'White House' dance (the bride's family [that's the side we're close to] is South African, love dancing and it's a tradition everyone gets into), no one blinked an eyelid when Mum turned up looking smashingly hot in a sheer top with a midrift on underneath (that's just her) and we all cringed when the best man in his speech said that he hopes the only ins and outs and ups and downs the couple ever experience are between the sheets. The bride's father is a pastor and didn't laugh at the joke. Oops. My boys looked edible, Hugo was well behaved and I overheard a few new Mums there comment on how good I looked. Ego boost, check!

Anyhow I have a couple of busy days ahead as I continue working on a small project and organise Hugo's party, which should turn out to be very interesting my friends...

As I travel along a more cluttered path I've been thinking today about what inspires me.

I've looked around my home and can see a space filled with expensive gadgets - large screen tvs, expensive computers, laptops and sound systems. I've looked at my lawn and seen a high end car. I've examined the clothes we wear and they're full of labels, and have looked at shelves filled with DVDs, books, toys and magazines and have realised that I've been basing my joy on trying to accumulate more of this stuff, yet my desire has left me empty - financially, spiritually and emotionally. I feel tired and hungry.

When I was younger I was very religious and although I haven't been to church in years, I still hold onto the principles and values that I learnt. And I feel like all that's happened in the last week has held a strong purpose.

I feel so shallow and materialistic. I've felt confident and valued because I drive a nice car, live in an expensive area, fly business class and have lovely things. I want to sell our car to pay off our debt but am concerned about what people will think when I'm driving a cheaper model. It's so fuc.ked up and the person I was 5-10 years ago would be so very disappointed.

I haven't donated or sacrificed time by giving back to society in years. I've been too self absorbed and feel humbled and ashamed.

I can't let my sunshine be things when I want it to be people, ideas and relationships.

Luc and I have decided to take some drastic measures to get our lives back on track, which I'll detail in the next little while, but let's say that when we're bored we're no longer going shopping, we might see a friend or even talk to each other instead!

When I stop the noise around me and sit still, I realise that today it's my beautiful son that inspires me. It's the way he dances in time to music, how he always tries to bite my toes, his smile, his laugh, his six little teeth, how he tries to kiss me whenever he's in trouble and how he loves reading books.

And it seems silly to want more things when I really have everything right here with him.

God, I always feel so exposed when I write something like my last post but perhaps it's good to write about events I'd normally hide.

I'm so determined to make things improve, partly because I'm tenacious and partyly because I want to make everything right. I want a good outcome.

Our finances are working out but my fights with Luc have reached a point where we don't argue in person anymore, we use messenger because otherwise it'll end very badly.

So I'm spending lots of fragmented time on the computer, usually when Hugo's sleeping, madly typing and loosing my appetite. And then I find myself wondering whether significant weight loss would make all of this worth it......

I've been determined to stay positive since coming back from our trip. Despite the dramas of my life before we left and our horrid first day back I've called friends, cleaned, worked, smiled, revelled in Hugo and just yesterday felt I could be happy quietly still.

Then a knock came to our front door last night. It wasn't a rare and random 'trick or treater', but friends of Luc, Mikko and Anke, who we hadn't seen for a while. I offered drinks and dinner and sat down to catch up when I was cut short by Anke who said, "let's not pretend this is a social gathering. I think you both know why we're here. We want an explanation of where our money went."

I felt bewildered and looked to Luc who then explained that he and his buddy Mikko had arranged a $35,000 loan using equity in his home. A one-off payment of $5,000 had been paid in the last six months, Mikko had lost his job, couldn't find another one, he and Anke have three children and don't want to loose their home.

Mikko and Anke looked tired and explained they had been fighting for months. Anke initially didn't agree to the loan (I wouldn't either) but Mikko went ahead and did so without a formal agreement or agenda of when payments would be made. He was happy for Luc to pay him back when it suited and Luc had agreed he would after the trip.

But now Anke was in our home, angry and accusing us of manipulating Mikko and trying to milk their family dry. Mikko fumbled his words and didn't make sense. His numbers didn't calculate. There was a flurry or words and confusion, Anke took out a document and we signed over our car. I felt like such a fool but by this point Anke had settled down. She looked at me, smiled and said we would work it out. It wasn't our fault our men still act like children. Mikko promised to send an email outlining what had been paid and what was left owing. He would return the signed document when the money was paid. I was desperate to make things right.

***

I've been awfully depressed today. Luc and I had a long talk last night and things between us have improved. We created a budget that would mean repaying this debt in just over six months, and for once I didn't think of leaving him. Despite not being married and although many of you may think I'm a damn idiot, the vow of staying together for better or worse kept inconveniently ringing through my mind. I'm determined not to leave, feel sorry for myself and get disheartened.

With that said though, Luc knows never to do that to us again. Everyone should know not to borrow money from friends. We're still together but he's currently in the doghouse indefinitely. I imagine Mikko is too.

A big part of me thinks maybe I should sell his much-loved Lexus to act as a double-edged sword that would instantly square off this owing money off and act as Luc's punishment. Ha!