The Contingency Plan

forget right and wrong
is it unwise to have a contingency plan
a silent one
especially during these tiring trying times
when he wakes up before me
eats alone
leaves without saying goodbye
spends hours hours working
typing click click clack
but insists nothing is wrong
except for my melodrama
is it unwise in these passing weeks
when my stomach knots with sadness
and emptiness fills my mouth
to perceive another path
even though i still adore him
and don't want to be
alone

irritable male syndrome n. Anger and irritableness in men caused by a sudden drop in testosterone levels, particularly when brought on by stress.














This is Luc getting a massage from my Dad. No those aren't coffee stains, he bought the shirt like that

Saying the movie title, 'A love song for Bobby Long' in an Asian voice

Going out with ridiculously obvious bed hair

Cutting the edges of our lawn with kitchen shears

Making Dylan tell me over and over again what I was like in highschool: 'you were a damn fox, tall, half asian, intelligent and totally unattainable'. I refused to date anyone in highschool.

Teaching Hugo that a 'fan' is called a 'zorn'

Making our pretty au-pair Rachel eat copious amounts of ice cream, chocolate, pasta and hidden meats (she's a vegetarian)

Joining our pretty au-pair as she eats all of the above, ruining my ridiculous imanginary ploy at tarnishing her looks

It's been pretty hot this summer and we're really feeling it in this new place with its poorly insulated walls and big windows that trap hot air and light.

The heat has reminded me of when I was at uni and would have to take the train to class, which sat at the edge of the city far away from an ocean breeze. After travelling for an hour I'd then have to walk up a long hill that became very steep at the top, challenging my will to attend whatever lay ahead.

I can't recall her name, but I'd often walk with a woman who revealed the only way to combat the heat or cold was to relax and give into it. The more you tensed up and tried to fight it, the worse you felt as your body needed the energy to naturally adjust. Luc's been mad and consistently fights this weather but it's a battle that will always be lost (unless we have a bloody strong air conditioner, which we don't). You must surrender.

And to tangent, I've been wondering whether this idea can apply to other areas of my life.

There are certain things I question whether I've really accepted in my life, like my relationship with my parents, my breakup with Sophie, my sex life, Luc's neverending complaints and my overweight figure. These are issues that linger, fester and eat away at my mind. I spend hours analysing, strategising, planning and sometimes crying and it's pretty pointless most of the time. I'm fighting these things instead of surrendering to the fact that they are the way they are.

I'll never have a perfect, "normal" relationship with Mum or Dad.

My relationship with Sophie is dead, gone and finished.

My sex life doesn't fulfil me.

Luc complains all the time about anything and it's no reflection on me and there's little I can do to change this.

I'm overweight. This is the only thing out of the lot that I control.

I know there will always be things that will be hard for me to accept. My optimistic natures likes to spin things into a hopeful light, but sometimes I need to face facts so I can move on already.

I've been thinking about my mother lately and how our bond has always evolved around shopping and cooking - two things we do very differently now.

When I was young we'd spend hours cooking together. My job each day was to finish my homework (no TV allowed) and then help her prepare and cook dinner, clean up afterwards and make the next day's lunches.

Mum only ever had two cookbooks, both of which I now posses. One is for biscuits, the other for cakes. The rest of her meals she just knew.

I remember the way we'd start the process. I'd wash the rice until the water was nearly clear, place my index finger ontop of the rice and fill the pot with water until it reached my first knuckle. It then went on the stove to boil and the heat was then turned right down and it was steamed.

And the rest had a rough routine too - chop garlic, heat the wok until it's hot, add oil and then the garlic once the oil is hot. You can't add the oil in the beginning because it heats faster than the wok and will end up burnt.

I also recall my favourites: chinese cabbage in vinegar; spinach in oyster sauce; stirfry beef, peas and carrot; or red capsicum, chicken and onion; seaweed; dahl, curry and rice; steamed fish with garlic and ginger; tofu; crab soup, sweet and sour soup; and the pinnacle of all, dumplings.

Every component of the dumplings (called jiaozi as mum's family is from northern China) was made from scratch and took hours.

Flour and water for dough, kneading the dough, letting it rest, rolling each portion into a snake-like formation then chopping it into small disc-like pieces, rolling each one out with a rolling pin to resemble the sun - fat in the middle and splayed out on the edges. The filling would be a mixture of meat and a selection of finely chopped herbs. There's such a art of the process that I've only been allowed to participate a handfull of times. I wasn't for children. I could only watch.

Mum would boil the dumplings (leftovers were later fried until the dough was crispy), and we'd dip the steamy, creamy, white results in a black sauce of soy, sesame oil, finely chopped garlic and vinegar.

As a result of my years of 'wife training' I've grown to develop a love and knack for cooking. It was something the girls in the house had to know (my brother doesn't even know how to boil and egg). I remember holding dinner parties throughout my teens and cooking delicious meals for 10-15 people quite effortlessly.

On the weekends our house was always full of visitors over to taste Mum's cooking and laugh at the funny and open conversation of my parents, whether it was guys from dad's kung fu school, Mum's Chinese chatterbox crew or randoms Dad invited over from church (practically anyone who accepted). My sisters and I were subsequently always in the kitchen. No one would dare complain as we were just too scared of Mum to try.

It's been nearly seven years since I've shared a roof with my mother and in these passing days I've forgotten all of her ways with a wok. Ask me how to cook any of her many dishes and I just can't remember. My love for cooking and entertaining is still strong but I'm more likely to make cannelloni these days over dumplings.

I try to pretend it's not all bad as my repetoire has expanded, but who am I kidding? The loss of her epicuriean art (and our bond) is sad.

Sometimes, in a quick and simplistic way, I think it's because she was/is never open to the sharing our two worlds, prefering me to sit by the sidelines and watch, never allowing me a voice.

Sorry I haven't been in touch people. Had a media event last week and I'm still immersed in all the work. The event was a huge success but all media articles to date have omitted any branding, which means boo for me.

Thankfully our au-pair started work last Wednesday, as did our new cleaners and my business' first employee! Yay! Having them all in the house on the same day last week was very strange. But fucking fantastic. People think we're super posh and loaded now and screw it, they can live with that impression, even though my westie blood curdles at the thought.

I seemed to have entered a new phase. One where I'm still silently depressed but power on anyway. I like living in a fuller house (power in numbers?). Natasha's the same age as our au-pair, named Rachel, and stayed over on the weekend. We all went the art gallery, Symphony in the Domain, watched every Johnny Depp movie we had at home (Chocolat, Willy Wonka, Finding Neverland and Pirates of the Carribean), went to the beach, swam and ate ice cream every damn night.

I love living in a fuller house.

i had so much fun.

did moves called 'kate moss' and 'hello boys' (pictured).

got practically naked with 18 other women and picked out hot pants, nurses outifts and the like with our instructor, miss kitty.

had 'pole burn' the next day on my inner thighs

overheard snippets like 'you have to scoot your ass forward so you can spread your legs wider', 'remind me my camera's by the pink feather boa.. the one under that playboy poster', 'can i have more champagne miss kitty?' and 'girls you have to put the pole right in there as it grips best with your inner thighs' (hence the pole burn ladies).

anyone up for our next class?

This week I planned a launch event, received the creative journal of a brilliant friend to read (oh, the words are so so so good), taught Hugo where his nose is and how to hi-5, waged a war against minor birds (fucking HATE them, became a crazed woman, chasing the birds out of my home with broomsticks and fists of rage to prevent them stealing food or shitting on the couch), interviewed a lovely Dutch girl for an au-pair position, attended Uncle Eddy's funeral (first one I've been to where there were hundreds and hundreds of people, gasp! an open coffin, people wailing... everywhere and where I had to creep to the back of the church where no one could see me, flag down my poor father and tell him to stop speaking as his 30 minute eulogy was quite enough), and to top it off, will gyrate for a couple hours at a pole dancing lesson tonight. Please don't ask. Yes, my camera will be coming with me. No, there will be no photos of me.

But before I go, I have a question for you all...

After the funeral yesterday, I was having lunch with the family and Mum informed us that my Grandmother knows Uncle Camel died. She knows this because he apparently visits her dreams to explain the situation.

In one dream, he apologises and says he cannot visit her anymore because he can not come (Chinese translation to English looses the power of his words) so my Grandmother knows everything, details no one has told her, is telling people she only has one son now as the other died and keeps telling everyone it's ok as she understands.

Freaky.

Maternal instincts? The Supernatural? What do you think?

In spite of all my corporate experience, I'm just starting to feel at ease with my job. It's not a matter of actual work, but moreso the people.

One thing I could never handle was all the bullshit conversations. I just don't see the point of such niceties when you're going to slam the person right after they leave. And my industry is full of such fakeness.

Once during an internal meeting we were talking about fingernails (yay) and my colleagues were complimenting our director and giving her advice on her nails. It was a total wank. I have naturally strong, white, fast growing nails so when they complimented me on mine I said I kept them long for scratching Luc's back. Said it came handy in all sorts of situations. Said he loved it. No one knew what to say and quickly returned to talking about whatever we were unnecessarily there to discuss.

I can't tell you how good it is to do business on my terms and without all the pretentious fakies.

Life's too short for long-term goals right now
I forget, procrastinate
Billow in guilt and the lower feelings
So let's scap the list of resolutions
Yes! Let's create a list of monthly goals
Objectives... no objections
No pressure to do this every month,
Just start off with Jan
Baby steps...
So this month I'd like to:

* Organise our home office. We have desks, computers and chairs and bought an unreal in-in-one colour printer/scanner/fax machine/photocopier yesterday so I'd like to get it all organised, increase our office supplies and finally file everything so it has a place

* Start taking Hugo to fun, social things during the week. I have the timetables and have contacted our new local playgroups, Gymbaroo and a funky weekly baby book reading club I discovered through a friend

* Sort out nanny/care for Hugo. Business will get busy soon and I will need 2-3 days a week to make this thing work, otherwise I shouldn't bother. I'm scheming and hope my plans will work out

* Create a basic website for work. We've bought the domain name and need an online presence asap. Chloe's on holiday until Jan 10 so I plan to surprise her with the finished product when she returns

* Take on a arty project to complete this month. I need something to keep me creatively inspired. I'm thinking of buying a huge canvas and creating an artwork for Luc as a gift

* Treat my body with kindness and respect. I forget to eat when I'm busy or stressed, eat too much when I'm emotional, binge, don't exercise and know I won't change all of this overnight but would like to act with a little more kindness towards my carcass

* Organise our spare rooms. Storage needs to be bought, things need sorting

* Finish all the laundry. I know this is impossible. There will always be clothes to clean, but I haven't since Hugo's been born, completed all the laundry so there's nothing left in the basket. I used to use laundry as another method of storage, but I'm over that now

Ok. Time to now get off the couch...!!

In a past life I used to sing and although my vocal chords have been idle for years, I've agreed to sing for Amelia and Kian's wedding next month as she walks down the aisle.

What the hell was I thinking?

The last time I performed my voice was so much stronger. I sang a Whitney Houston song in front of thousands to mark the opening of a new church building. I haven't been to church in nearly 10 years...

But there are two positives to the situation:
1. Tthe wedding is taking place here in the stunning Whitsundays
2. I like the song they've chosen, Ben Harper's "Waiting on an Angel". No Shania Twain gems or Whitney tricks required.

The wedding's next month but I've already started preparing. Wish me luck Internets!

After we finished our Yum Cha meal this morning Mum received a call to learn that a close family friend (my father's best friend) had passed away yesterday afternoon.

A man passionate about fishing, he was fishing off some rocks south of Sydney when a large wave took him out to sea. His body was found 30 minutes later and taken to hospital where he was confirmed dead.

Mum and Natasha cried at the news and I admit I also shed a tear for his family and wife of only two years. I've been in a rather sombre mood since.

Crikey.

I should be getting ready for the Joy Luck Club gathering today at Yum Cha (or 'Dim Sum' as some of you strangely call it), but no, I'm blogging. I'm sure my siblings, Mum, Drew and her sister won't mind... yeah.....

Let's not add "procrastinate less" to my NY resolutions.

Soooooooo people, as you know I've been thinking about "the list" and have decided that I shall stick to one.

To be frank, (Hi Frank!) I'm a little scared of this year. I think it'll be pretty busy. The little business Chloe and I have created is booming, I've been looking into care options for Hugo (maybe 2-3 days a week) and Luc and I have even been discussing that terrifying 'm' word, and no, it's not money. I'd also like to get pregnant again sometime this year. I'm awfully clucky and would like to our kids (2-3 of them) to be aged close together.

Everyone seems to be having babies these days. So many people I know are pregnant or have given birth within the last year!

Anyhow, I better go. Sorry, this obviously has no point, but I shall return.

six hours until countdown and we're swimming in a large pool of water
dad's house
luc is throwing our naked boy in the air
splashing him down to zooooom through the turquoise
five hours and we're driving home
searching for bottle shops
buying the expensive bubbly
still shaking water out of our hair
four hours and we're sweating
fighting
but is it love?
three hours and we're still there
screwing this and that
hopeful
but still sweating
two hours and I'm in bed
relieved
Hugo's sleeping
but our new portable air conditioner is
certainly awake
one hour and we're making french toast
talking for the first time in days
serious conversation
'what would you do if you won the 32 mil lotto?"
the house is silent
but contently cheerful
we anticipate a night of togetherness
but then...
dad calls
invades our silent celebration
comes over within 15 mins.
we add another glass to our couple on the table
happy new year