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I’m feeling singularly uninspired, but would kind of like to recap 2013 – so I have jumped on the meme train.

Did you keep your New Years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I’ve never really been a New Years’ resolutions kind of person. But I was trying to lose weight, and I kept that up.

What would you like to have in 2014 that you lacked in 2013?

What was your biggest achievement of the year?

I cut out drinking soda. With the exception of a few dance weekends and similar, I’ve stuck to it. My consumption used to be up to 1.5l a DAY and now I may occasionally drink 355ml on a weekend, once. I’m quite proud of that.

It’s a chequered achievement, but with my dance partner, created a choreography completely alone and took it to Nationals. I started teaching zouk properly – the free nights at the bar and as a sort of assistant for S&T. Taught the flashmob choreography.

What was your biggest failure?

I lost track of the home/dance/work balance. It swung too far dancewards, and this year I need to get it back into some sort of equilibrium so everyone’s happy.

Did you suffer illness or injury?

Yes, mostly dance related. Feet injuries, shoulder/back/neck strain, more feet issues. Entirely self-inflicted and on the whole I don’t mind. I don’t remember the last time my feet weren’t damaged in some way. My big toenails are a complete mess (thanks, Brisbane), I have blisters, a heel crack, bone bruising. The price I pay for being a dancer.

I got a pretty major lung infection just before Congress, and spent the whole event hopped up on medication. I managed to love it anyway.

I’m also back on dried frog pills. I’m not particularly happy about it, but I’m not too stubborn to admit that antidepressants have helped me before, they’ll help me this time, and if I need the help it’s stupid to refuse it.

What was the best thing you bought?

Probably dance shoes. Or some of the new clothes I now fit.

Whose behaviour merited celebration?

My husband. For all that we’ve had ups and downs this year, he’s worked SO DAMN HARD on the various health issues he’s had/having and he’s made so much progress. There are no words for how proud I am of him.

Where did most of your money go?

My spending money mostly went on dance stuff. Shoes, classes, trips. Household money went on household expenses and trying to shift debt.

What did you get really, really, really excited about?

The trip to Wellington for Congress. The trip to Brisbane for Brazil Central. The trip to Wellington for work, the technical/root cause analysis workshops.

Compared to this time last year, are you:

i. happier or sadder? About the same.

ii. thinner or fatter? Thinner, to the tune of 22kg down.

iii. richer or poorer? About the same.

How did you spend Christmas?

At home with a collection of waifs and strays. I cooked FAR too much food, it was amazing. Excellent company, exactly how I wanted to spend Christmas.

How will you be spending New Year’s Eve?

At a friend’s home, with champagne, watching fireworks.

What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I turned 30 this year. I had a “anyone, show up” party at home, which I think was the first time I really tried to combine my dance & non-dance friends, it worked really well and I had an excellent night. It was casual but cheerful and fun.

How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2013?

Practical and probably unfashionable. I live in leggings far too often, never at work but definitely at home / the studio.

What kept you sane?

Dancing. No question. It’s my therapy and, yes, probably my obsession too, but it keeps me sane and happy and healthy.

Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2013.

It’s not a new lesson, but one I always need to remind myself. It’s in our wedding vows, in fact – “I will remember that love means saying ‘I feel differently’ instead of ‘you’re wrong’.” It’s really, really hard for a stubborn person like me to shut up and listen, but it’s important to do. Not just in context of our marriage, but at work, with friends… anywhere that differences arise.

I dropped the ball on this whole blogging thing. There’s been a lot going on that I just didn’t want to talk about on the Internet.

I’ve avoided measuring myself too obsessively with this whole weight change thing (or rather, I’ve tried!). However, after yet another throw out of things that don’t fit, I did haul out the tape measure.

Since the last time I took measurements, I’ve lost eight inches off the hips, eight off the stomach, and 6 off the bust. No bloody wonder I had to replace all my pants.

I’ve managed to stay off the soda, with the exception of dance-event-weekends when I need the caffeine to remain conscious.

I’ve been to a load of dance events. Performed. Learned choreography. Performed choreography. Competed in Champs, Open is next weekend. Taught a choreography (an international flashmob).

I don’t remember the last time my feet weren’t damaged in some way. My big toenails are a complete mess (thanks, Brisbane), I have blisters, a heel crack, bone bruising… The price I pay for being a dancer.

I commissioned my friend SPark to make me a Elephant. See, when I was a tiny, I had a beeeeg blue Elephant. I have distinct memories of this elephant, and was quite upset when my parents disposed of if (I’m informed that one too many episodes of baby-sick made it unpleasant as a tenant of the indoors, which seems reasonable enough!)

In January-ish this year, I realised that a) I am a grownup with disposable income b) one of my friends in the States makes plushies, amongst other things, for a living.



LOOKIT HOW CUTE IS THIS THING.

We had T’s birthday party a couple of weeks ago. It was lovely – a chilled out evening, bbq, friends. Really nice.

My sister in law and friends visited from the UK. It was amazing to have her here for the first time.

Life goes on?

Today, I got so happily engrossed in work that I nearly missed my lunchtime leg&eyebrow-wax appointment. I got there about three minutes late, and realised on the way back to work that wearing tight jeans, in midsummer, on the day you get your legs waxed, is a really stupid idea! It was hot and my pores are complaining and my jeans stuck to my legs for the rest of the afternoon. I had a cold bath when I got home to give my poor legs a chance to cool down.

I got complimented on my makeup, which is funny for the following reason: I couldn’t get last night’s eyeliner OFF, so I cut my losses, tidied it up and put some eyeshadow on before I left for work. (Also, I love the Urban Decay palette that I acquired over Xmas, it’s fantastic.)

I went to a bar with workmates to farewell a workmate who’s disappearing to Australia, called my mum while I walked to the bus stop; I am now happily ensconced in the snug with Tigra, a Coke, and my husband has been sent out to acquire dinner.

It’s been a pretty good day.

I’ve started teaching zouk now. I am thrilled by this. See, the social nights I go to at a local bar start with a free beginner class. November-ish last year, I turned up early (ie, in time for the actual class – for hopefully obvious reasons I had been skipping it). The teacher was on his own, so I dived in to help. After that, he asked me to keep teaching with him, and hello YES PLEASE. I love teaching anyway, I love zouk, and this way I can give a little back to the hobby that’s given me so much. It’s basic basic beginner’s stuff, which I can do in my sleep, and I’m thoroughly enjoying teaching.

I suspect that there is another advantage to someone like me teaching. I am not intimidating – I am overweight, I am going to turn thirty this year, I am approachable for most of the women who show up for the first time. (Opposed to the slim twenty year old blonde stereotypical dancer.) I do have gorgeous hair, even if I say so myself.

So, people show up, they laugh at my jokes (all stolen from other dance teachers), they learn the steps, they go “you make it look so eaaaasy” at me, I generally feel good about myself.

As well as Cyclenut’s mum, who puts in regular appearances at the bar – did I mention that Cyclenut’s mum started turning up? She did, and I felt a bit awkward at first and then I got over it – I ran into a manager from my previous job. I got along well with him when I worked there, and we chit-chatted quite a bit last night (which was his first lesson). I even got a hug when he left!

I got some compliments on the class, which is always nice, and more importantly, several people cheerfully told me they’re coming back next week.

It’s been a pretty good week, actually.

It’s December 1st. It’s a lovely, lovely, sunny day outside; it’s Saturday, and I made the mistake of going to the mall today. I had lots of sensible reasons (need for new laundry hamper, a couple of small Xmas-y bits and pieces, printing some photos to send to my Mum), but oh my goodness the PEOPLE. I had to walk for nearly a kilometer just to get from where I parked INTO the mall, let alone walk around in it. I mean, I don’t mind walking, but it was just … well, I sent the following text to my beloved.



Love his sense of humour.

We’re not doing anything major for Xmas this year. I’ve posted the Christmas cards to the inlaws, I’ve bought some small bits and pieces for various friends, but all and all, it’s going to be a low-key year for us. I’m quite looking forward to it, actually – T and I both have two weeks off (from the Friday before Giftmas to the first workday after New Years). It will be glorious.

I have a new little resolution. I’m going to make more of an effort to compliment people, if I notice things that are compliment-worthy.

Being winter, I’m back to wearing my Gallery Serpentine Coat of Awesome. This morning, the following has happened:

• Random guy in Starbucks: “That is a fantastic coat.”


• Lady standing beside me at traffic lights: “I just love your coat. Where did you get it?”


• Colleague in elevator: “That is an awesome coat.”

I’ve also had shop assistants in my favourite clothing store demand to know where I bought it – they were quite upset when the answer was “Australia” and thus “not easily accessible”.

Anyway, the upshot of it is that a) compliments are great, and I believe in paying it forward b) this coat was worth every penny of the nearly six hundred dollars I paid for it.

I’m a bit stuck with dance. The zouk and salsa classes that I want to do are both on the same nights – and not only on the same night, in different places, but at the same TIME. As a result, I’ve settled for doing a lower level of salsa class (improvers rather than intermediate), just to have SOMETHING. Somewhat to my surprise, my salsa teacher told me not to bother paying – just show up, practice, and help out the newer dancers.

My zouk teachers aren’t teaching intermediate right now, either. So, in order to have something, I stepped back to their improvers classes (and, you know, I’m still learning/improving/refining the basics). Last night, they told me not to bother paying – just show up, practice, and help out the newer dancers.

I’m really chuffed. It’s nice to feel like I’m competent at something, albeit at a lower level. Really nice.

The dance studio are running a zouk performance course, for the Salsa Ball in August. The routine was created by William and Paloma (the world champs) and I’m going for it. It’s bound to be hard work, but I actually think I’m ready for the challenge.

It’s Christmas Eve. Well, technically it’s Christmas, as it’s 02:41 on the 25th. We’ve been in the UK nearly a month, and I don’t know what to say about it.

I miss the cats. Not so much home, but I miss my Tigra girl especially.

We’ve just returned from midnight mass. This is a tradition, kept to by Tobermory’s family every year – midnight mass is Not Optional, it is just what you Do when you are here for Christmas. It was uncomfortable and strange. I’ve become unaccustomed to displays of faith, much less displays of a faith I’m unfamiliar with.

I didn’t realise how dependent I was on knowing the words of hymns. Apparently standing up and singing is somehow ingrained in my soul, because it really shook me when I couldn’t sing along. It’s not even that it’s a faith I share, there’s just some … inherent expectation that I will sing along in church. Not knowing the words really upset me, somehow, and I don’t know why. Well, I knew Silent Night and Come, All Ye Faithful, but the other two hymns/carols I didn’t.

I came home and had a very strong rum and coke. I couldn’t think of a better way to deal with the weird, so I drowned it in alcohol.

I’ve enjoyed the trip, I think. We attended a glorious wedding (T’s best man), and it was wonderful. I even convinced my husband to dance with me during the reception, and he wasn’t drunk.

I miss dancing. I didn’t know how much I enjoyed it until I was removed from it for a month. I miss the sense of accomplishment, the sense of pride in my own body. I need to lose some serious weight. Next year’s goal, maybe. Although everyone I know well over here has asked how much weight I’ve lost. Apparently I’ve either lost or relocated some.

The Christmas tree here is two stories tall. The star kisses the ceiling. It’s not exactly subtle. And the pile of gifts is ridiculous and huge. Excepting the inevitable family drama (it’s Christmas after all) tomorrow (today) should be a good day.

I should really sleep. But my husband isn’t in the room yet, and I can’t drop off without his arms around me.

It’s spring now, it’s getting lighter. Skies are nearly blue in the mornings.

I don’t rush my walk from the car to work. I like taking a few moments to collect my thoughts, think about the day. It’s a pleasant amble – carpark, sometimes coffee shop, public square, street, work.

I like people watching.

Council workers, emptying bins, cleaning the square. Setting up for whatever the next show or market is.

Business people in serious suits, heels tapping and clicking on the stones, serious briefcases.

The guy who clearly wants to look retro and stylish, but unfortunately looks like he raided his dad’s wardrobe then pinched grandad’s suitcase. He’s a regular.

The group who practice tai chi. At least, I assume it’s tai chi. Sometimes there are fans, sometimes wooden swords. It’s so graceful, calm and controlled movement. The *clack* as a fan opens, the graceful sweep of an arm and leg into place. Whatever it is, I love watching them.

Lately, there are a group of about six guys. They must be training for something – they’re there stretching, doing pushups or jumping jacks, sprints over one of the grass areas. I’ll admit I like watching them too.

Students shuffling up the hill to uni, sometimes grappling multiple bags, inevitably looking exhausted. I sympathize, I don’t like 8am either.

And me, sometimes gratefully grasping a cup of caffeine, wandering up the hill to work. The lady at Starbucks has stopped asking if I want the usual – these days it’s just “morning, that’ll be $6.90 please!” “Morning, thank you…” I wander over, get my straw, hear the blender whirr. “Mahal?” “Thanks!”

I like being a regular.

I was in the dunny at work yesterday – not my usual office, I was helping out at another site – and heard someone fly in to pay homage to the porcelain gods. I felt quite sorry for her – retching interpersed with “oh, god, argh” type noises.

An older lady offered sympathy and help, but whoever it was (I never saw her) was quite insistent that She Was OK, Thank You (now please go away).

I flushed, went to wash my hands, and had a thought.

“Should I offer congratulations instead of sympathy?”

“… yes.”

“Morning-afternoon-all-day sickness?”

“YES and it SUCKS. Um, do I know you?”

“Probably not! I’m just here for the day. I have an unopened water bottle. Would it help?”

“Not really. But thank you…”

I have new shiny cooking equipment. One KitchenAid mixer, with sundry attachments.

Owing to my inability to make appropriate portions, we have had three days worth of home-made pasta meals, including lunch portions. Very tasty pasta, mind you.

I am continuing to learn to salsa. For the first time in years, I am actually enjoying something related to exercise; admittedly I had a bit of a mental paddy with myself tonight, when the instructor tried to walk me through something I hadn’t done before and I got it wrong, but hey! That’s my own mental quirk which I really, really need to deal properly with, because newsflash: people are not expected to be good at things the first time ever. It has been fun every other lesson, and frankly I need to give my WAH I AM NOT PERFECT a good kick up the arse, because hey, not perfect and THAT’S OK.

In other news, I swear to god I am not lying: I got propositioned by a hooker on my way home. (The dance studio is near our red-light district and… I guess my car was parked too close tonight?)

Her: “Hey honey, you want some fun?”

Me: “er, what?” (thinking: don’t you have some original lines?)

Her: “… this is K road. What do you think?”

Me: “Get bent.”

Her: “I already am?”

I wasn’t trying to be funny…

Also, I don’t know why, but some part of me is actually quite insulted. She wasn’t even very attractive.