In an effort.

Having been back only a few weeks, I'm totally in the throes of a schedule I can't keep up with and I'm working really long hours. In fact, yesterday I worked sixteen hours and the day before that I worked fifteen hours. Last night as I sat here working, there was a rage building up inside me and I was so frustrated I nearly went crazy.

So, in an effort to try and be less negative, I'm going to take a que from a good friend who enjoys posting in list form all of the things she's grateful for on a given day. Here are ten.

For:

1. Having a job, despite the long hours, in the wake of so many who do not have income rolling in because the job market is so incredibly tough right now. This one, I need to keep repeating over and over and over again. :)

2. My darling boyfriend, Tyson, who is so sweet to me, incredibly supportive and helps me to see things in different ways. We are a team! Plus I think he's really handsome.

3. A roof over my head. Contained under said roof are many things that are cozy and cute and useful, and I need to appreciate this space instead of wondering when and if I'll ever be able to buy a house someday. Again, repeat.

4. A healthy family. In the wake of some troubling news within my extended family, I'm reminded of the day-to-day ease of which my family is allowed to live because we aren't currently struggling with an illness or financial duress. This ease can be taken for granted until such a moment arises.

5. Hearing my grandma's voice yesterday. She is a treasure.

6. 'Just Mango Slices' - a product of Trader Joe's and that I've been eating in the wee hours at the office. Its the little things.

7. My legs. Its on these pegs I can run, and running is so totally awesome.

8. My experience in New Zealand and Australia. Its so cliche but its really true that we don't appreciate things nearly as much in the present as we do looking back in reflection. And as I look back on it now, I'm so grateful for that time on the other side of the world.

9. A sunny day outside today. Seattle is truly a stunning city!

10. My bike.

Falafel.

The first night Tyson and I were in New Zealand, we sat down to the most delicious meal prepared by Chef Caitlin. Included in the menu: Falafel. Caitlin had a package containing a greenish, dough-like substance that we rolled into balls and cooked in some oil over a flame. I'd had falafel before and bla bla, yep thought it was yum. But, I dunno, it wasn't really in my repertoire as a go-to thought for something to make or eat for dinner. It was spectacular that evening though, and we were officially hooked. Introducing Lisa's products of New Zealand = amazing. Taken from her website: "LISA'S Hummus started selling in plain pots labeled with blue felt tipped pen on the lids and whilst today's product might look somewhat smarter, the wholesome fresh quality of the hummus and dips remains true to the original from Lisa's home kitchen." She basically makes really incredible dips, hummus, toppings and also ready-to-cook falafel from fresh, whole ingredients.

While the obsession started with Lisa's varied range of hummus creations - including pumpkin and kumara with basil and chili, and also moroccan with chili, cinnamon and chopped prunes - we were really more concerned about the withdrawal affects of no access to her incredible falafel. It might actually be possible that we ate more falafel in New Zealand than we ate meat. Maybe. And we continually sought out great falafel all over Australia - so far, the best falafel I've ever tasted was from Byron Bay's Orgasmic Food. They don't lie.

We've been home a week and Tyson has nearly perfected a recreation of Lisa's jalapeno and lime hummus dip, so need to panic there. And on Thursday night I brought home what I believed to be THE falafel recipe to cure our longing. Turns out, it is perfection. Here's the link, but I'll also paste the recipe below: http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/My-Favorite-Falafel-231755

Yield: Yield: About 20 balls

1 cup dried chickpeas
1/2 large onion, roughly chopped (about 1 cup)
2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh parsley
2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh cilantro
1 teaspoon salt
1/2-1 teaspoon dried hot red pepper
4 cloves of garlic
1 teaspoon cumin
1 teaspoon baking powder
4-6 tablespoons flour
Soybean or vegetable oil for frying
Chopped tomato for garnish
Diced onion for garnish
Diced green bell pepper for garnish
Tahina sauce
Pita bread

1. Put the chickpeas in a large bowl and add enough cold water to cover them by at least 2 inches. Let soak overnight, then drain. Or use canned chickpeas, drained.

2. Place the drained, uncooked chickpeas and the onions in the bowl of a food processor fitted with a steel blade. Add the parsley, cilantro, salt, hot pepper, garlic, and cumin. Process until blended but not pureed.

3. Sprinkle in the baking powder and 4 tablespoons of the flour, and pulse. You want to add enough bulgur or flour so that the dough forms a small ball and no longer sticks to your hands. Turn into a bowl and refrigerate, covered, for several hours.

4. Form the chickpea mixture into balls about the size of walnuts, or use a falafel scoop, available in Middle-Eastern markets.

5. Heat 3 inches of oil to 375 degrees in a deep pot or wok and fry 1 ball to test. If it falls apart, add a little flour. Then fry about 6 balls at once for a few minutes on each side, or until golden brown. Drain on paper towels. Stuff half a pita with falafel balls, chopped tomatoes, onion, green pepper, and pickled turnips. Drizzle with tahina thinned with water.

YUM.

Paired with Caitlin's Tabouleh recipe of which I'll have to post later, OR just some fresh, thin-sliced cucumber, feta, chopped tomatoes and a slathering of hummus in a wrap, you will not be sorry. In fact, you might be just a little more happy you're alive. I am.

weeding.

Ok, so for those of you who aren't in the mood for a superficial post, just move on now 'cause I'm about to start talking clothes and closets.

Having just traveled for a period of four months, the ability to transport my closet came in the form of exactly two backpacks. Therefore, I reduced the daily outfit options to about ten percent of my closet. Initially I wasn't that pumped about having to confine myself, and the labor involved in picking which items went and which items stayed wasn't easy. However, once I was away from the closet and my options were so very limited and clear, I realized that its actually more fun to mix and match among a smaller pool of candidates. I was more creative and I could actually see everything in my closet and I liked all of the items. Novel.

This less-is-more principle applies not just for the closet, but for everything! For instance, having tons of purses and accessories is irritating in that I end up trying to apply those pieces to my mood or my current style. Yes, I realize that is the point of having multiple options, but its also just a bit overwhelming. Today though, I realized I love the fact that I have a classic, neutral-colored handbag that's also giant so I can fit everything in it. And regardless of other purses I may have (a clutch per say), ninety-five percent of the time I use this same giant one. This is lucky for me because I purchased it at a high price THREE YEARS AGO. Which brings me to my next point: If I spend a little more on something it not only tends to last longer but I tend to actually care for it and like it longer. Next item. I bought expensive sunglasses this year and just like the purse, they are classic. I wear them everyday without question. I love them. I will wear them hopefully much like the purse, for the next three years or more if I can make it happen. Same with my watch. I love my watch, and its the only one I own so I don't have to think about which one to wear. See these easy principles stringing together?

Now, anyone who knows me is probably near tears laughing inside because THEY KNOW I have more vintage dresses than I can count, and in a spectrum ranging from turquoise prom style - I have legitimately worn this dress to a wedding - to my rainbow of colors hippie dress that would make Mr. Garcia proud. I have shoes. I have pants. And jeans. Lots of jeans. I have sweaters and blazers from Banana Republic from 2001. And my style seems to vacillate daily between classic, neutral colors to makes-no-sense patterns and color. Basically I'm all over the place.

What's my point? Coming back from my simple closet in New Zealand and unpacking all of the stored closet items is giving me anxiety and identity crisis. Too many things. Too many options. And too many personalities. I feel terrible even writing this post too as there are probably so many people who are struggling at the current time and I'm blabbing on about too much stuff and what a problem it is. I just know I'm overwhelmed, and hopefully by this weekend I'll have things under control.

Also, my good friend Aylin went through a phase while I was abroad where she was fanatically gutting her house too. She passed along some helpful blogs and articles that I'm hoping to reference.

http://unclutterer.com/2009/02/17/instructions-for-decluttering-your-home-in-less-than-500-words/
Or just the blog: http://unclutterer.com/
Also: http://organizedhome.com/

Let the weeding commence.

And finally.

I'm home now, so posting on this trip seems a little lame. But I need to wrap it up somehow and as I sit here at home in Seattle freelancing (already), it already feels so strange that I was even across the world just days ago.

After Brisbane, we boarded the third flight of the six flights we would eventually take to get home to Seattle. We landed in Sydney early around 8am and the day was our oyster. But not only was the DAY our oyster, it sort of felt like the last three days were going to be pretty uneventful in general. Ahhhh.... We'd seen a lot of Sydney the first time through and at this point we were merely looking for some days to sit, sip coffee and stroll through the various neighborhoods.

First of which, Surry Hill, proved to be designed after my own list of favorites considering one street alone housed at least ten different vintage shops, and the first coffee shop we planted ourselves served homemade oatmeal cream pies AND it was located on an adorable sunny street with fallen leaves everywhere. Yes, it was Autumn there which is weird because its Spring here now, in Seattle. The perfect lazy day just sipping and playing cribbage. I think the most stress I felt was when the game actually came down to the last display of cards - and yes, I won. Thank you very much.




No more rushing to catch a flight, or get to a rental car, or navigate a map, or make sure you saw everything everyone told you to see. We were on vacation and we were going to sit and then go and sit some more. And then relax after that. This was our goal. Relax.

I realize I'm making it seem like traveling isn't great. Of course it is. Its just not relaxing in the way that a vacation can be, and usually we were doing our best to stay up late to see things and get up really early to start seeing things and then walking all day in between seeing all of those things. So in Sydney we slept in! Glorious.

I really enjoyed Sydney too. The architecture was really unique and the neighborhoods were so cool. Of course any time you can board a ferry boat and leave a giant, international city behind and then land on a beautiful beach where everyone's in bathing suits and life is just a little slower, all is good. That was Manly Beach. Such a quaint area with surf shops and heaps of cruiser bikes. And of course, a beach! Very cool.


So here I sit. Earning a paycheck again and thinking about what I want to make for dinner. Life is back to where it was before, and yet not. It feels really good to be home and I'm thrilled to see how the next chapter will unfold.

I guess, keep you posted. Pun intended.

Um, look at this homemade oatmeal cream pie, BTW. It was definitely as good as it looks.

Swimming.

After my mind was blown in Cairns, Tyson and I headed south via yet another rental car and drove 2,169 kilometers to Byron Bay - just south of Brisbane on the East Coast. Our plan was to finally set down some roots, stay more than a day in one place and finally feel our toes in some sand. For three days we literally woke up early and headed straight to the beach. It was spectacular. Like we were on crack, we played in the ocean for hours until we were exhausted. Each day the conversation went something like this: "Should we go in yet? We've been out in the sun for like, six hours." ...."Yeah we probably should. Maybe after the next giant wave. But, let's wait for a really, really good one to end on." A giant wave would come blasting through and whether we were attempting to surf, boogie boarding or just trying body surfing it was never quite the last one. Never quite giant enough. Even though secretly I think we both just kept wanting to stay in the salty drink.

Yes I wore sunscreen.

holy cow.

Its hard for me to try and put into words some of the experiences of the last week. I'm going to quickly try, but I know anything I write on a whim such as this will be disappointing compared to what lives in my memories. We spent some really great days in Sydney - a city of which we were both totally surprised to love. It was sunny and the city was bursting with active people enjoying the weather in heaps of space outside in parks or near the harbor. We also have a few days in Sydney at the tail-end of our trip, so I think it felt great just to aimlessly walk the streets with no direction or agenda.

Then...we went to Cairns. The city itself wasn't much to be desired. Streets lined with horrible signage coaxing tourists to every possible activity, and where there wasn't tourist information shops, there were really gross bars where twenty somethings go to get absolutely wasted for days on end drinking two-for-one shitty beer. We had specifically made the trip to Cairns to snorkel and dive the Great Barrier Reef boarding a two-day, live aboard ship called The Kangaroo Explorer.

With a day to kill before calling the sea our home, we decided to rent a couple of scooters. Having never ridden a scooter, I was naturally terrified. I could probably write an entire blog on the fears I've experience during this trip. I'm starting to wonder if getting older is making me a more nervous person. In any case, I conquered and by the end of the day I was sad to have to give my scooter back!

The following day we boarded our boat and spent two hours making our way to the Great Barrier Reef. The ride was a large indication of what it was going to be like for the next two days in that seas were definitely not calm.

Upon arrival we were immediately briefed on what was to be expected for the next forty eight hours, including scary tales on all sorts of deadly creatures we may encounter while snorkeling and diving the reef. We were signed on to do five different snorkel times: 1pm, 4pm - then sleep - 6am, 8am, 11am and if possible, once again at 1pm. We were also given an opportunity to try an introductory scuba dive - something that in theory I knew I should do given I was in one of the most incredible places to dive on earth, but one I wasn't sure I could physically and mentally do.

We were shown to our "quarters" and then it was off to immediately suit up and hit the reef. First we were given stinger suits because after all, it is stinger season and a person CAN DIE from being stung by one. Yep. Good stuff. Then fins (NOT flippers. I was yelled at countless times for this mistake). Then a mask. Again, NOT goggles. And then poof we were swimming among coral and fish and sharks and barracudas and turtles! There were five of us in the snorkel group and the rest of the people were students completing their Scuba certification. It was Fred and Matt from France, Tina from Sweden and Tyson and I from the States. Feeling a little nerdy not with the big kids in the open water class, we decided to call ourselves the Extreme Snorkelers.

When we returned to the boat, the Extreme Snorkelers were informed that if we wanted to do the introductory dive it would have to take place at the 4pm dive session. Like, in two hours. Reluctantly I decided to do it and within minutes we were being briefed on what to expect during our dive. Dan, our dive instructor, explained that while in the water we would first be lowered down along a rope to a bar several meters under the ship. We would be asked to remove and replace the breathing device from our mouths showing him we were actually breathing under water, and not just holding our breath. We were also told how to clear our masks when water comes in under the water and how to pop our ears for the inevitable pressure we would experience being lowered deep below the surface. I'm telling you, the anxiety was mounting. By the time Dan finished, it was time to suit up.


We literally had no more than a minute or two for reflection before we were in wet suits, weights attached, tanks clipped on, and told to JUMP into the water. The terror was beginning to make me panic, but I didn't want to hold up the group. Tyson was lowered down first. I was next. At first the feeling of breathing in and out through the little air mouthpiece was fine. I was drawing long and deep breaths just as instructed so that my tank would not run out of air by using it up with scared panting-like breaths. I kept having to clear my mask of water though, and pretty soon I had a massive anxiety attack while waiting for the others to come down one by one. Sadly I slowly made my way to the surface and breathed in a massive breath of fresh HUMAN air. Ahhh, it felt amazing. I was alive. I was not dead. I did not stop breathing and die under the water. Shortly after, Dan surfaced asking me what my problem was. I told him I couldn't do it. I was simply too scared and its just 'not for me.' He paused, told me that was all great and good but I was going to do this. My mind bordered on mental breakdown. Then Dan hit the button - whatever scuba thing it is that removes air from your pack and keeps you afloat - and the weights kicked in and soon I was descending below the water line again. I tried everything possible to stay calm. My insides were so scared I barely had time to realize that I was six and a half meters below the surface of the sea and looking at the Great Barrier Reef close up. After fifteen minutes I finally relaxed and began to realize what I was doing. And after about twenty five minutes we came back to the surface. Relieved and on the surface, I reeled with adrenaline for several hours afterward. I can't say that the experience was something I really enjoyed, but it was definitely the craziest, most intense thing I've ever done in my entire life. I'm definitely glad I did it. I'm definitely glad its over. And I'm also really thankful that Dan was such an ass about the whole thing basically forcing me to do it. Because I wouldn't have done it. I was ready to climb up the boat ladder right then and there. Its hard to even write about. I can't really explain the feeling of being so terrified for my life, and yet, people dive every day and in the end I was fine. I did it.

After the dive, it was all about extreme snorkeling. Our tight-knit group was up before dawn and hit the water at six the next morning.

We saw so many amazing creatures and had a blast the entire day.

And when the experience was all over, I was really sad to say goodbye to both the reef and our new friends. I was reminded for several days afterward though considering my extreme sea vertigo.

More stories and photos to come. We spent another three days and 2127 kms in the car driving from Cairns to Byron Bay, en route to the beach!

New Zealand Roadtrip: The North Island.

We hopped our ferry waving goodbye to the south island and boy was Wellington there to greet us with a warm smile.

Having not been in anything even resembling a city for a little over three months, we soaked up the capitol city like a kid on Christmas. I also think that Wellington is very similar to Seattle in that its quite hilly, resides on a port, and is artsy, fashion-forward and filled with cafes and restaurants lining quaint streets. This is one of those moments where I realize that had we landed in Wellington first, we may not have had such a magical response to the city, but both of us fell totally in-love with the city and decided to extend our stay for two nights instead of one.


We were there to sit back, relax, and eat. Queenstown and most of the south island isn’t known for its cuisine, and we both abstained from dining out for most of our stay because the two times we did it was insanely expensive and our food was less than mediocre. In Wellington we found endless streets of adorable cafes and bistros. We walked Cuba street up and down and finally settled on this charming, little spot called Duke Carvell's and sat cozily under dim lighting and candles.

There we enjoyed: Spinach, goat cheese and walnut filo with tomato chutney : Spiced pumpkin and lentils with toasted pumpkin seeds : gnoochi with a sage and gorgonzola cream and finally, lamb and prune tagine with toasted sesame seeds and fresh coriander. YUM. I’m telling you, we were going crazy like a couple of gays at a Cher concert. It didn’t stop there and in fact we spent some time strolling the city streets afterward talking extensively about our excitement for the brunch we planned on dominating the next day.



Sure enough, we sat in the morning sun eating pancakes with bananas and hazelnuts and enjoyed amazing coffee, topped off with a mimosa. Knowing we were finally spending more than just a day in one place we leisurely strolled around town and made our way to the famous Te Papa museum and blabbed on incessantly about which place we were going to pop into for dinner.

It was then I started to marvel at how much weight we were putting into our food consumption. For both Tyson and I, good food is so important and can make for the best time ever if we can sit and enjoy something delicious. We both enjoy cooking and mostly cooking together. We just like good, real and often times, interesting food. Also, in Queenstown we spent our first three weeks with Caitlin spoiled nightly with amazing cooking. She really is a genius. However, this Wellington eating obsession had us so giddy I just couldn’t believe it.

In any case, we both loved Wellington. Whether it was being in a city again and the culture, buzz and energy that comes along with it, the fact that it felt a little like home, or the five pounds we put on eating like a King and Queen, it was great.


Rotorura:
A teeny town capitalizing on the fact that beneath it bubbles up smelling, hot gas from the center of the earth. Touristy and gross in my opinion. Nuff said.


Auckland:
Though I’m sure we could’ve stayed longer, we spent one night in Auckland. Anxious about getting to the airport on-time (and for the experience I wrote about earlier), we hit the town early and found a great brew pub near our hostel. On our last night in New Zealand we drank some local brews with some fun local people, shot pool, and listened to great music on the jukebox.


On to Oz!