Dare You To Move

Today is my 'one month anniversary' in Sydney.

I was talking to Marmee this afternoon, (oh, Mum, that is - a name inspired by one of *pause for emphasis*, the most beautiful films in the world: 'Little Women'), and suddenly I realised, (with a rush of uncontrollable emotion), that the hardships and trials of the past seven years had been leading up to this very moment. My tears were a release of the frustration, fear, pain, embarrassment, and the incarceration that has inhibited my very being for such a long time, causing my soul be barren and fruitless. It feels as though the drought is finally over. (Note to self: please remember this on weekdays as well as on weekends).

Today was delayed on the onset. Fatigue being the culprit. A girlfriend of mine and her partner are in town, so a brunch meeting had been arranged. *Warning: true colours about to be revealed.*

I didn't want to go. This is not an unusual thought process for me. Often I RSVP to coffee meetings and parties with a gung-ho 'yes,' only to find myself thinking up every possible excuse to cancel my attendance. Yet another of my unexplainable quirks. What I really wanted to do was venture out into unfamiliar territory, find a great cafe and read the Sunday papers...

The pair were staying at Bondi Beach, so for the seventh day in a row, I shuttled myself through Randwick, and then Waverley, to the infamous Sydney Suburb. The place was absolutely crawling with people; no surprises there; it was the perfect beach day. Finding a carpark was an absolute nightmare. Eventually I slid into an hour spot, and made my way down to Campbell Parade where they were waiting. I have to admit, once I actually make the effort and attend the much deliberated and procrastinated event, I usually do have a good time. Today is no different, and but as I bide them both goodbye, I'm glad I stuck with just a coffee.

For some reason, I was at a bit of a loss where to go then. I seem to have all these fabulous places on my list, but when it comes to actually choosing one, I can't decide. Need to work on indecisiveness, I've decided. For some reason, I headed back to the small cluster of shops I visited after my perusal of Oxford Street Sunday last. Maybe it's Sonoma Bakery that allures me. Maybe that Gusto Cafe. Perhaps just the general cuteness of its winding streets, and the appeal it holds in being a local's only secret. But when I checked both places out, I just wasn't satisfied. I didn't want to stay at either of them. And I don't want to be an extra in my own life. So I got in my car and type in 'Queen Street, Woollahra' into my GPS. I thought, 'I think I'm finally going to Bills.'

Bill Granger is a renown Sydney Chef who opened up his first restaurant in 1993, at the tender age of 22 (talk about wow). Two more followed in 1996 and 2004, and now, he also has one in Tokyo. 'Bills' is a Sydney icon, best known for their scrambled eggs and ricotta hotcakes. As mentioned in a previous post, I have been wanting to visit for a long while. Then, the disappointing walk by of the Surry Hills 'Bills,' a couple of weeks ago, filled me with apprehension. Never mind about that; today I'm going in the for kill. I arrived at the Bills Woollahra around 1.30pm. It was busy but there were definitely tables in sight. Professional, friendly (maybe a tad too much), and well uniformed staff floated about. I was directed to a table outside, where the wait of service, menu, water and breakfast began. Everything had a ten minute delay on it. The deliverance of a menu, my simple and foolproof meal, the taking of my order...

An older couple were placed next to me; literally. I did't mind this, but then again, I did. It was just a little too personal. I tossed up between apple, cherry and almond bread, scones and sourdough toast with homemade jam. I love gourmet jams with oodles of real fruit bits. I went the toast, envisioning it to be similar to the sourdough I had yesterday. It wasn't. It so wasn't. It was one piece of casalinga-type bread, deceitfully cut into two slices to create the illusion of a bigger serve. To add insult to injury, there was a piece of unwanted butter gluing the dishonest slices together, butter that was firmly rejected in the ordering process. Back it went to the kitchen, and I experience another ten minute delay. I read a review that did indeed state that Bills had 'mediocre coffee;' whoever wrote that wasn't wrong. Oh well, so it's bad coffee weekend. Worser things have happened. Toast finally arrived and its saving grace were the two carafs of amazing looking jam beside it; loads of googly bits - yum!

I stayed awhile and read the paper, but was far too windy, so eventually I gave up to go for a wander. Woollahra is a cutesy little suburb; very expensive (so I've heard), but leafy, with lots winding streets - I'm fond, I've got to say. I read in a food blog that there is a Donna Hay General Store somewhere, so I asked where Holdsworth Street was, and discover it's the very street I parked in! In fact, I could see the tiny little store sign from my car. I wandered in and call Marm as I browsed the overpriced home-wares and pre-made cookie packs. Uninspired to purchase anything, I headed for the car, where I had this unexpected emotional episode mentioned above...

Once I'm home, all I want to do is sit and do nothing. (Not even blog!) My miniscule brunch meal has left me absolutely ravished. I feel so washed out. The very last thing I want to do is go jogging. I put it off for an long as possible, before the threat of nightfall forces me out the door. The walk is amazing. A thunderstorm is brewing, so the clouds are moody and grey, lashing out occasionally with spats of water. I reach my favourite part of the route, and it's no coincidence that Switchfoot's 'Dare You To Move' chances the shuffle on my iPod. It seems to be the theme of the weekend, on so many different levels. Firstly, in referring to the small but significant milestone of me being here a whole month. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to check whether I actually did this. Whether I actually moved away from my family, got a job, and am living in a completely self-supportive state. It blows my mind. Secondly, in terms of the phone conversation I had with Marm. I thought when I moved here, that everything in my life would miraculously fall into place. I would lose the weight that has been weighing me down physically and emotionally for almost three years. No, in fact, that weight would just fall right off me just before I reached Sydney, and I would enter this new city as a svelte, sassy, new signorina. My dread of work would magically disappear; I was going to NIDA, and that would therefore solve all my problems. I even thought my pimples would disappear with the abundant supply of sunshine found here. Don't think so. My issues marched their butts right beside to Sydney, and (some of them) still sleep in my bed every night. Thirdly, even in the small act of almost running down that hill to my car, desperate to go somewhere else to enjoy reading my newspaper, and refusing to be content to just settle for just any old place. This might seem trivial, but it was so much more than about finding the perfect place to eat. It was a declaration of the ownership one should take of their choices; and ensuring you , and you alone are the director, actor and producer of your own life. And it's wonderful, because what I have found, while being here, is a source of inner strength I didn't know I still had. I used to be a very disciplined person. Then year twelve ended, and that discipline was ousted out with a vengeance. I was tired of being on a diet. I was completely jack of studying. So, everything that mildly resembled these two evils, were shunned. All work and no play had made me-girl a rebel, (different to most kinds but connotations pertaining to the general definition of the word), one that I didn't care for at all...

I never much liked choosing the 'dare' option in a primary school game of 'truth or dare.' And I'm definitely not ecstatic every moment of every day that I dared to regain control of my life (I still have flaws; why, don't you?) But today, whilst looking out onto the a dark, choppy ocean, underneath a sky that mirrored its sea counterpart, I'm so grateful to my Lord, to my family, and to myself for helping me to dare to move.

movie monday tomorrow *wink wink*

xx