I feel somewhat like I’m leading a double life. There’s the “external” me who goes through the day to day routines of life, work, home, family in a reasonably “normal” way. To the casual outside observer I’m probably my usual self. I still manage to read with my gorgeous son in the evenings, I still manage to do something resembling work during the day and I even manage to watch Oz Idol and place my tips in the online tipping competition on a regular basis. But inside I feel hollow, a shell and I’m starting to fear I won’t regain my joie de viere (I’m sure this is horribly wrong and I apologise in advance to any French speakers and especially to JB who is gnashing her teeth as she reads this).

Yes, I realize this is pathetic, self-involved hand-wringing of the worst kind but I can not pull myself out of this dreadful state. It’s almost like I’ve been attacked by termites, they have eaten my foundations, my “soul”, my “me” and have left a façade which to all the world looks like the real deal. These termites are the adoption process and right now I wouldn’t recommend it to my worst enemy (of course the last sane part of my addled brain is yelling “she’s wrong, don’t listen to this crazy woman… it’s all worth it, the pain goes away, she’ll be singing a different tune soon…”).

But enough (for now) of these dark ramblings from the dark recesses of mind… Here’s an update from the real world…

Last Friday night we enjoyed the St Lucy’s Fundraising Ball. St Lucy’s is a special school for children with disabilities and our dear friend’s daughter attends. Each year they put on an extravaganza of monumental proportions in order to raise big bucks for various projects (this year it was a new playground and for the record they raised $120,000). Apart from it being on a Friday night (Friday not being a great night for me… tired, cranky… well, more than the usual) I managed to pull myself together, slap on some make up and away we went. It was generally a fun night. A great “party” band even had me up on the dance floor. The food was generally OK and there was a good atmosphere in the room.

However, a few points need to be made. There were two types of woman who stood out for me. There were the wealthy older corporate wives who had obviously had enough plastic surgery to make Michael Jackson envious. They looked like someone was dragging them backwards by their hair at all times, they couldn’t show an emotion to save their life and their eyebrows were only marginally lower than their hairline – very peculiar. Then there were the mums who obviously don’t get out much but relish any excuse. I am talking about average mums (like me)… not gorgeous but not ugly, normal bodies of various types… dressed up like they were going to the Academy Awards. Backless, strapless, gold lame… you name it, it was there and it didn’t look good. Now I’m not suggesting everyone needs to turn up in a [very nice, I must say] $39.95 Target skirt but surely there is some sort of happy medium. For *&#$’s sake – saggy boobs and bellies just don’t look good in strapless, figure-hugging red sequins.

Since Will was at mum’s until Sunday morning we did our favourite thing and hit the cinema on Saturday morning. We saw a sweet little Oz movie called “The Oyster Farmer”. We had wanted to see it because it was filmed around Brooklyn and Mooney Mooney on the Hawkesbury River where Jason’s uncle has a house and where we’ve spent a fair bit of time. It’s only about 20 minutes drive from us but it could be on another planet. Beautiful! It was one of those rare “little” movies which just told a “little” story about some “little” people but it was really well done, with a great script and very nice performances. If I had to make a criticism it would be of the overly explicit sex scene which really didn’t add anything to the film and must have been very uncomfortable for the poor young actors to film (sex on a rickety old jetty – ooh, the splinters in the bum don’t bear thinking about!).

We returned home to watch the Swans win (yet again… grand final here we come… I hope… oh please let us win against West Coast on Friday… I may cry…) against the hapless Hawthorn. Then we got stuck into some serious finger food preparation as we were expecting a few friends that night for a serious round of the new Trivial Pursuit Pop Culture DVD Edition which Jason got for his birthday. It was a great night marred only by the fact that Gianni (my partner) and I didn’t win – it was those stupid cricket questions that got us… damn you cricket, you stupid, stupid, useless sport!!!

Sunday morning Jason went off to golf and I tidied up. Then mum brought Will over and boy, were we glad to see him and he us. Great big bear hugs all around. Then mum and I hit the 50s Fair. “What is the 50s Fair?” I hear you ask. There is a house in nearby Wahroonga which is called the Rose Seidler House. It was designed and built by the famous Sydney architect Harry Seidler for his parents in 1948 and completed in 1950. It is a classic example of minimalist 50s architecture and, while surprisingly small, is quite stunning with its extreme use of glass walls to capture the beauty of the surrounding bushland. It is now owned by the National Trust who each year put on a 50s Fair. There were bands playing 50s music and lots of stalls selling clothes, shoes, handbags, household goods, buttons, fabrics, anything and everything from that era. What I loved were all the people who obviously had embraced the 50s subculture as a way of life and dressed head to toe in immaculate 50s gear. The women were stunning. I have to say it was a very feminine period in terms of style and I love it. We spent a fun couple of hours wandering around, checking out the stalls, touring the house and “enjoying” a dubious, 50s hotdog.

So now it’s Tuesday night. Still no news and I fear another night of teeth grinding will leave me with permanent dental problems (what’s the number of your dentist Kath?).

Oh, I must make a small retraction. Last night I finished Janet Evanovich’s “Ten Big Ones” which I think may have got a prematurely unfavourable review from me earlier. Look, it’s no Pulitzer Prize winner but it did get bloody funny and there is a classic scene where our heroine Stephanie, her sidekick Lula and their friend Connie are trying to “torture” a gang member in order to extract some information. One of the funniest things I’d read in ages. Had me giggling uncontrollably for ages, much to Jason’s disgust.

A “couple” night... before you have children you take them for granted, we certainly did. Jump in the car on a Saturday evening, movies, dinner... nothing special. But with a small child everything changes... for the best, of course… but I do miss those couple nights now that they require a certain amount of logistical organisation.

Luckily we have at least two very willing and able babysitters (i.e. my mum and dad) who are always very keen to have Prince Will overnight. So at fairly short notice my dear mum (aka Baba) stepped in and Saturday afternoon through to Sunday morning became couple time.

We started off at WBJ looking for suitcases for our upcoming (when? when? when?) trip. I found a huge red Jag suitcase at Myer; not only was it just what I wanted but it was 40% off the marked price. His Highness Prince Jason did not like any of the suitcases which were on sale and I thought that $300+ was just a little too much for a suitcase which may be used once a year - so we decided to agree to disagree. [Jason is now the proud owner of a suitably price reduced suitcase which he purchased in the city on Monday.] Since there was a little bit of time before our first movie started I popped down to the shoe department and guess what? Two pairs of shoes at 50% off the already reduced price (including a gorgeous pair of Italian purple suede loafers). Does life get any better? I think not!

Time for the first film. I love horror movies. Have done ever since I was 14 and watching The Evil Dead in the basement of my friend Aila's house. We would turn off all the lights in the house and watch it over and over, scaring ourselves senseless (we'd have to wait 'till her parents got home to go to the toilet as we were too scared to go up the stairs). Over the years I've screamed at the Nightmare on Elm Street movies, jumped during the Scream movies and in recent years tensed myself into a state of exhaustion during The Ring and The Grudge (those Japanese sure know how to scare the pants off you).

The Skeleton Key is a fine film in the suspense, bordering on horror, genre. It is not a slasher film and it is not as tension-filled as The Grudge (which I have to say left me a nervous wreck for days). It is beautifully filmed in and around New Orleans. The place itself has a tremendous presence and the cinematography is stunning, adding greatly to the suspense and foreboding which is built up throughout the film. The cast is wonderful - Kate Hudson, Peter Sarsgaard, Gena Rowlands and John Hurt. I really enjoy Kate Hudson, she is pretty without it being distracting and she is a very natural actress. If you haven't seen 200 Cigarettes you must. I think it's one of her first films and she plays a young clumsy girl out on a blind date on New Year's Eve. She is just gorgeous. 200 Cigarettes is a real ensemble piece with a cast of thousands (Courtney Love, Paul Rudd, Casey Affleck, etc, etc); lots of different stories and they all converge on the one NYE party in New York in the 1980s. Quirky and funny and perfect for all of us 80s leftovers.

I digress. The Skeleton Key focuses on Caroline, a young nurse saddened by the lack of care for terminally ill patients. She finds an ad for a hospice worker and travels out to the swampy boondocks to take care of Ben Devereaux, who has apparently been struck down by a stroke. Ben and his wife Violet live in a gothic old mansion filled with creaks and shadows and secrets. Caroline is given a skeleton key which opens all the doors in the house and with it she discovers the "secret" room in the attic (there's always a bloody attic and/or basement - don't these people ever learn?!). The story really wasn't what I was expecting and I didn't see the twist coming at all.

After this movie we enjoyed dinner at Kelly's which is a South African steakhouse. I had a cocktail called a West African Yellowbird and it was huge and yummy (I think it had rum in it and banana liquor). It made me feel good and I said to Jason that I should drink more (I'm generally a non-drinker) and he agreed, even suggesting he buy a cocktail book and make me cocktails at home. Not sure why he was so keen to have me drunk all the time! Dinner was delicious. I love a steak and was glad I ordered it medium rare. Generally I order medium but lately medium has been bordering on well done. Either I'm getting more blood thirsty or there is a consensus amongst chefs to overcook steaks. Whatever the answer, my steak was bloody enough for my liking and very yummy (no offence, but I'm so glad I'm not a vegetarian!).

Short space of free time between dinner and movie #2. We attacked the CD shop. I should have known better, having already burned a small hole in my credit card, but I was on a roll. Ten minutes later we came out with Martha Wainwright's beautiful new CD, Madeleine Peyroux's new CD (gorgeous old style jazz [but new] and she has an amazing voice), Complete Madness (for $10, all their hits and then some, it's frightening but I remember every word to every song, even after all these years!) and a double compilation CD of old swing songs (Jason's pick, he is such a boring old fart in a [reasonably] young man's body).

Then it was time for more cinematic entertainment. This time it was Wedding Crashers. I love Vince Vaughn and I don't care who knows it! I fell in love a number of years ago when I first saw him in a fabulous little black comedy Clay Pigeons and my love has continued to grow with Swingers and Made (however, it took a review of all these films for my love to survive the new Psycho - what were you thinking Vince, what were YOU thinking Gus Van Sant, shame, shame shame). Maybe it's because I have a thing for tall men, maybe I have a thing for that nervous talking thing (which John Cusack perfected in his early movies - see the dinner scene from Say Anything) – I don’t know why, all I know is I wouldn’t throw him out of bed for… ahm, having wind.

He is at his slightly manic best in Wedding Crashers. It’s very very funny and there were scenes which had me writhing about in hysterics, much to the annoyance of the old bag sitting next to me… who had surely wondered into the wrong movie for she sat still and silent throughout. Obviously left her sense of humour at home.

Overlooking the rather ugly “disagreement” we had on the way home about which of the new CDs we would listen to, we were home and in bed at 12:30. Sunday we enjoyed a small sleep in before heading off to pick up Will, JB and my grandma. We headed down to La Perouse to enjoy the winter sunshine and some huge seafood platters in celebration of my grandma’s 86th birthday. My god I was full, it wasn’t pretty. I swore never to eat again but it only lasted until about 7:30 pm when I finished off the “doggy bag” crab in front of Australian Idol (now there’s a mental image that’s guaranteed to scar you for life).

So overall it was a great weekend, filled with my favourite activities – shopping, eating, movies and spending time with my family.
So now it’s Tuesday and I really feel like we’re in countdown mode. Ring phone, ring! As that fine specimen of Australian manhood Lleyton Hewitt would say “COME ON!!!!” (do the actions with me now!).

I love those Borders' 3 for 2 deals. Maybe it's just the George Costanza in me but I just love getting something for "nothing". I know I could buy the individual books at another bookshop for less but somehow those "3 for 2" labels dazzle me and I'm transfixed, like a rabbit in the headlights of the oncoming credit card bill.

Last visit I came away with the latest in the "No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency" series (which I love), a book about some Pommie bloke living in Paris for a year (am I the only human being left on the face of the planet who hasn't lived in Paris for a year and written a book about it?) and the latest Stephanie Plum (Janet Evanovich) novel. Now my friend Jan loves Stephanie Plum and while she is undoubtedly a spunky character the novels could have been written by a three year old with a nasty foul language problem.

This book, "Ten Big Ones" is the literary equivalent of eating fairy floss. A brief moment of enjoyable sweetness with no nutrional value and no aftertaste. Each night when I'm finished reading I wouldn't be able to tell you what I had just read, even if I had a gun pointed at my head. It literally goes in one ear and out the other.

It's not that I don't like genre. Stephanie Plum is a "bounty hunter" from Jersey and her novels fit into the mystery/black comedy mould - however, they are not very funny or very mysterious. For my money Kinky Friedman is by far the master of this genre. If you haven't heard of him he is definitely what you might call a "character". He has a country and western band called Kinky Friedman and the Texas Jewboys whose songs include "They don't make Jews like Jesus any more" and "Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in bed". He's even running for governor of Texas 2006. His books are super cool and very funny, he plays with language in the sort of way that really makes me laugh. He's not exactly a poster boy for PC.

If you're talking straight detective fiction I can't go past Ian Rankin's Detective John Rebus. The books are set in Edinburgh, Scotland and they started off very dark, have moved onto quite dark and are now relatively "light" but they are still bloody good. Strong prose, beautiful descriptions of Scotland and a great character in John Rebus. I went to see Ian Rankin talk at a literary dinner thingy last year and really enjoyed it, except for the fact that he looks alarmingly like my ex-husband Colin (who was also Scottish, perhaps they are distantly related?).

I'm also a fan of Sue Grafton's Kinsey Millhone. Her books are also known as the Alphabet mysteries because they have been named "A is for Alibi", "B is for Burglar", etc. These books are only marginally higher on the literary high-brow scale in comparison to the Stephanie Plum books but they are much more enjoyable. Kinsey is a great character and whenever a new book comes out I feel like I'm catching up with an old friend. They are also well researched and quirky. I can't wait to visit with Kinsey again soon. "S is for ...?"

Now don't get me started on gay American authors. What can I say, I'm a fan! It started with Edmund White quite a number of years ago and has recently progressed to David Sedaris and Augusten Burroughs. Edmund White's autobiographical early novels are not for the feint hearted. For a white bread hetrosexual female like myself it was a case of everything you ever wanted to know (and more) about the nitty gritty of male homosexuality. Beautiful, moving books but whoa, baby, too much information. I bought and made an earnest start on his biography of Jean Genet but I'm afraid it will take a bigger man than me to get through that doorstopper. It's huge, it's dense and it's bloody hard going. Only for the hard core Edmund White/Jean Genet fans.

If you haven't read David Sedaris or Augusten Burroughs - you must. Sedaris writes beautiful, dry, hilarious vignettes; stories about his family and his life. It is hard to describe his style but he manages to capture those everyday life moments in such a deadpan way and then hits you with a whammy at the end of each story. The two books I have are "Me Talk Pretty One Day" and "Dress Your Family In Corduroy and Denim". Both highly recommended.

Augusten Burroughs is a different kettle of fish. His childhood will immediately make everyone feel better about their own. After all how many people were given away as children by their crazy mother to her even crazier psychiatrist (who, just as an example, would tell the future by fishing out his poos out of the toilet and drying them on the outdoor setting). This period of his life is described in "Running with Scissors" (soon to be a major motion picture!). His later life as a successful advertising copywriter and a complete alcoholic is beautifully described in "Dry". His other autobiographical book "Magical Thinking", as well as his novel "Sellavision" are on my book wish list (are you reading this Jay?). JB and I went to hear him talk a few months ago and I really fell in love with the man (in a purely platonic, hetro woman/gay guy way, of course!). I would SO love for him to be my gay boyfriend. To dream the impossible dream!

Political Science by Randy Newman

No one likes us
I don't know why.
We may not be perfect
But heaven knows we try.
But all around even our old friends put us down.
Let's drop the big one and see what happens.

We give them money
But are they grateful?
No they're spiteful
And they're hateful.
They don't respect us so let's surprise them;
We'll drop the big one and pulverize them.

Now Asia's crowded
And Europe's too old.
Africa's far too hot,
And Canada's too cold.
And South America stole our name.
Let's drop the big one;
there'll be no one left to blame us.

Bridge: We'll save Australia;
Don't wanna hurt no kangaroo.
We'll build an all-American amusement park there;
They've got surfing, too.

Well, boom goes London,
And boom Paris.
More room for you
And more room for me.
And every city the whole world round
Will just be another American town.

Oh, how peaceful it'll be;
We'll set everybody free;
You'll have Japanese kimonos, baby,
There'll be Italian shoes for me.
They all hate us anyhow,
So let's drop the big one now.
Let's drop the big one now.

Couldn't agree more, Randy! Hard to believe he wrote this in 1972. This is one of the songs on my new "Funny Peculiar" CD and I just had to find the lyrics (thank goodness for Google!). [Just for the record and to avoid any confusion I am not having a dig at our US cousins, in fact I quiet seriously support the vision of the world expressed in this song (well, at least my own variation on the theme).]

Can you believe those boring-as twins won BB last night? I mean you could paint faces on wooden pegs and they'd have more personality. Apparently it was very close but I really was sure Tim would take out the cash. Here's a tip - never bet on MY tips. Honestly I couldn't pick the winner in a one horse race. Last year I was in an on-line tipping comp for Oz Idol and I don't even think I picked one correctly - it was embaressing.

Life is cruising today. Feeling good, feeling fine, damn fine. Wish I could sleep better though. Had a dream the other night I had a baby girl and she was really, really fat - fat enough to be on A Current Affair or Jerry Springer - "the fattest baby in the world". It was weird.

I have removed the previous entry for reasons of national security (and to protect my butt from any more kicking). Don't panic, dear readers, all is well. However, I will have to kill all those who read the previous post as it was provided on a "need to know" basis and apparently you guys don't need to know (silly me thought you did).

Anyway, enough of this gibberish. It has been a hectic but enjoyable weekend. Friday was your very basic pizza in front of the tv night. Pizza sure has come a long way since a Four Seasons was the apex of the gourmet pizza experience. We enjoyed a Fu Choo - which had marinated prawns, brocolli, capsicum, baby corn and honey sauce with seasame seeds - yum.

Big Brother on Friday night was pretty good. The three bozos had to do challenges, the worst of which were walking along a narrow walkway thingy but getting to choose how high up it was (both the boys went for 20 metres) and they had to untie two ribbons along the way, and then there was the "bug challenge". There were three seperate bug challenges and each contestant had to choose which they "wanted" (my choice would be: get me the hell out of here!). The first was finding a pingpong ball in a container full of crickets (Vesna), the second sticking your head into a container full of mealey worms and finding a pingpong ball with your mouth (Greg) and the third was sticking your head into a container and having them fill it up first with crickets, then mealey worms and then cockroaches (Tim). I have to hand it to Tim, he handled this last bit of horror in a completely calm manner - as if he did this sort of thing every day. I would be freaking out in a major way. Just the idea of swarms/herds/flocks (?) of cockroaches swarming over my face is enough to make me shudder.

Anyway, last night Vesna was kicked off BB so that leaves the two guys. I wish I could summon the energy to care but I really don't. Greg seems nice enough in a completely "devoid of personality" sort of way. However, I think Tim is going to win. I certainly didn't pick him to win at all. He is not attractive and he is "old" by teeny bopper standards, so possibly the idea that the only people who vote on BB are 12 year old girls is not quite true. I'm sure he is nice and everyone says what a "gentleman" he is, blah blah blah but to be honest he's probably just a bit too lefty for my personal tastes. Mind you he's intelligent so I'm sure we could have a good old debate about the state of the world but the fact remains that he's really not my kind of person. Newtown middle-class lefties just don't ring my bell any more.

Now Saturday Jason went off to work at the City to Surf set up and I took Will shopping. On a good day Will is quite a good shopper and as long as I don't keep him out too long and have something good to look forward to at the end to bribe him with it all works well. We ended up getting groceries, getting the new "Funny Peculiar" CD (very funny and peculiar) and having a good long potter around Myer. They were having a 50% off the already reduced prices sale (music to my ears/eyes/wallet). So I stocked up on some great winter clothes for Will for next year, got some new pillows and even managed to get a present for our new nephew Alexander (congratulations to Troy and Anna).

Then it was off to my dear friend Margaret's house for some tea, gossip and a chance for Will to play with her girls, Lili and Ella. A quick cuppa turned into half the day and I didn't get home until mid-afternoon. Then my best laid plans turned to poo as a few "quick" phone calls turned into one hour marathons. By the time Jason got home the washing was still sitting there unhung and my poor ears were vibrating. Got to see Jay for less than an hour before he rushed off to watch his Sharks get a whomping from the Roosters (Rugby League, for our overseas visitors). Will was meant to go but it was a bitterly cold night and I opted to keep him home and warm.

So Will and I had left over pizza and watched "Funniest Home Videos" in bed. Will loves that show - there is something universally funny about small children and animals hurting themselves and people doing stupid things at wedding - we just can't get enough. Then Will fell asleep and I watched one of the most stupid programs I have ever seen. It was on Foxtel and it was called "A Makeover Story" and it involved two of the Sydney Swans being "made over" by an anorexic American bird known as the "make over coach". Basically she got them stupid haircuts, put them in (generally) stupid clothes and said "Aussssie" (say "s" like snake) a lot. I love Ryan O'Keefe and Amon Buchanan and I can not think what they did wrong to be selected for such a ridiculous show.

Since I was watching the Discovery Health channel (why would they have "A Makeover Story" on a Health channel?) this program was followed by a baby program whose name escapes me. It involved following four couples through a famous IVF program at St Luke's Hospital somewhere in the US. While it was a nice enough documentary (though a little close to the bone, even after all these years) what I found quite upsetting was the way they "dumped" the two "failed" couples and oohed and aaahed over the two successful couples. Two couples got pregnant and we followed them through pregnancy and childbirth. But the two couples who were "negative" were wiped and we got no update on what happened to them: did they try again, were they successful, did they give up, did they adopt? You can't just involve us in the lives of these people and then just move on without a backward glance. Very poor documentary making IMO.

Sunday I was up early to head down to Bondi for my annual volunteer stint at the City to Surf. The adoptive families' support group, Australians Caring for Children (ACC), which we belong to conduct various fundraising activities throughout the year to raise money to help orphanages in Colombia, Bolivia and India. One of the "traditional" activities has been running a water station at the end of the City to Surf "fun run" (an oxymoron if ever I've heard one - you can not seriously put "fun" and "run" in the same sentence, as far as I'm concerned). Apart from it being hellishly cold on Bondi Beach first thing in the morning (which it actually wasn't yesterday) it's quite an enjoyable day. My only beef is with the organisation - whereby there are too many plastic cups, not enough sheets of cardboard and the water is hard to actually get a hold of - but all that is a long and boring story and of interest only to those who work on the day.

I was home by 2:00 pm and happily watching the Swans give those smug Brisbane Lions a good and thorough lesson in how to play AFL (strong words but give me my moment in the sun, won't you?!). A very happy Jason and Will returned home from the game demanding that we plan our trip to Melbourne to watch the Swannies play in the final (which we are all convinced is unavoidable at this point). He is now sulking because our upcoming trip around the world, with a very important stop in Colombia, does not seem to be a good enough reason to miss watching our beloved Swans in the grand final. Well, for a start they haven't even made the final yet and secondly... well, we just can't and won't and that's the end of the story (which translates to something like: "because I said so"). We'll just have to wish them well from afar.

Now for tonight's BB final... who will win? who cares? apparently I do! but I still don't quite know why... My post BB resolution is to read more and watch less crap ... oh, who am I kidding...

You would think being a seven and a half year veteran of the adoption wars I might have some sort of handle on things. You would think that, somehow, my hide would have grown that little bit thicker and I would have learnt to be a bit tougher, more mentally disciplined.

After all, we had survived our first adoption which involved:

* Being sent to the marriage counsellor by our social worker who claimed we had "communication issues" (but then didn't ask us how it had gone or anything about it??).
* Crying myself to sleep at night feeling certain we would fail the adoption process and be "rejected".
* Feeling the most incredible joy at being allocated our son and then the incredible misery, confusion and frustration at having to wait for 11 months until we could bring him home.
* Learning that DoCS, who were charged with processing and co-ordinating our adoption, knew nothing about how the Guatemalan adoption process worked and were willing to do nothing to learn more about it.

You would think after all that I would be able to cope with whatever frustrations our second adoption was going to throw at us.

Well, if you thought that you would be wrong, oh so very wrong, my friend.

Over the last forty-eight hours I have experienced so many up and down feelings I feel like I'm on a runaway rollercoaster. Why am I feeling so crap? Well, it's hard to explain really. I guess I could sum it up by calling it the "unknown" - for me that is the scariest thing in the world. For when you have a "known" problem you can stare it in the eye, grapple with it, attack it from all sides, pit your (superior) wit and skill against it and ultimately come up victorious. But when you are staring at a great big vat of nothingness, a giant void in the microcosm where your life should be, it's very hard to know how to fight it or what to even fight.

The "unknown" in this case is how much longer we may have to wait until we are allocated a child. We were initially told that the wait would be 12-18 months but we took that as the very outside, something would need to go wrong for this to be the case. Most of the people we were friends with who had adopted children from Colombia in recent times had waited much less than that, sometimes as few as four months.

We had also not stipulated sex or race, figuring that would increase our chances of a speedy allocation (not to mention that we didn't really care whether we got a boy or a girl and whether they were blue, green or pink with yellow polka dots).

However, we chose the orphanage with which there was very little track history. Only one other Sydney couple had adopted from there and that was in about 2000. Another couple had their file there waiting for an allocation when we sent our file. They were allocated in March 2004 - after a wait of no more than 12 months. So these were our only "guiding lights" and they were fairly dim.

Add to this couldron of non-information the fact that ICBF (the Colombian equivalent of DoCS) decided to change the adoption goalposts in 2004. They clamped down on private orphanages, putting pressure on them to give preference to Colombian couples wishing to adopt (which we would have assumed would already be the case). Other changes were made and a type of payment was introduced whereby the families of single mothers were given a small amount of money for six months to encourage them to keep the child. How all these changes affected intercountry adoptions it's hard to say. All we know is that things slowed down immensely all around. There was only one other allocation to a Sydney family in 2004 from a different orphanage. Now it is mid August 2005 and there have been no allocations so far (except for a mysterious sibling allocation which was announced only yesterday).

So my brain runs around looking for answers and there are no answers to be had. Then yesterday, on one of my email lists (what did my life look like before email lists???) a well-meaning adoptive mum from the US who is currently in Colombia sent a post which sent a shiver down my spine. Because of the unfortunate way in which it was written and because of my bleak outlook I interpreted in the worst possible way - private orphanages in Colombia were no longer allowed to do intercountry adoption and we would need to start from scratch - i.e. send our file to another country. While this vague concept had been starting to surface as an option in my weary mind anyway I wasn't quite prepared for the shockwave this sent through my entire being. I was devestated and totally shocked. Yesterday was one terrible afternoon.

A few phone calls and emails later things didn't look so bleak. Within a few hours I had hid rock bottom and bounced back somewhat. But I was still back at square one - facing the endless abyss and not having a clue how much longer we may need to wait for our allocation.

Imagine this: You get a phone call saying you have won a million dollars (or insert something else which represents your greatest dream) however you are told that you will need to pick up the money from an undisclosed place at an undisclosed time. To just sit tight and a phone call we be made to you to tell you when to collect your prize. You are so excited, you plan what you are going to do with your winnings, you ring all your friends and family. Then some time passes and still there is no phone call. You try to get on with your life but the news is still ringing in your ears, it's always at the back of your mind. Then more time passes, you start to get anxious, you can't go far from home because you are waiting for "the call". You can't make plans too far in advance. People start asking you "so, when are you getting your prize". Then the real anxiety sets in: what if it's a hoax? what if there is no prize? what if "the call" never comes? You start to resent the very idea of the prize. You want to ring and say "forget about the prize... I don't want it... I just want my old life back". But you can't. You keep thinking that despite everything "the call" is going to come later today or tomorrow or next week. You jump every time the phone rings...

Are you starting to get a picture? This is pretty much how I feel. I am fully aware that there is a flip side to my story and that the flip side is not a happy one. That for me to get "the call", to finally hold my "prize", another woman on the other side of the world is going to have to experience the sort of trauma I can not even imagine. I live with that thought every minute of every day and yet it does not take away from my own selfish misery, it only helps to put it into some sort of perspective (but only on my "better" days).

I'm sorry. I really just needed to get that out. I know that I will feel better tomorrow or the next day or next week and that I needed to make an effort to record my really bad days because they will one day be forgotten or will at least fade into the vagueness of time. Of course I want to stop feeling this way and forget these awful feelings but I also want to acknowledge them and to be able to touch them again one day on one of the many days in my future life when I will need to regain a sense of pespective - which for me is essential to holding onto my sanity.

Well, after two weeks of illness the Blanter/Curtis family is now back in the land of the (semi)living. Jason and I still have a bit of a persistent cough hanging around but generally we are fighting fit - Jay even went back to the gym this morning.

Unfortunatley I am slipping back into my adoption "depression" again - it's been a month since the last bout and I'm beginning to wonder whether it's a cycle associated with the "other" cycle or if it's just a feeling that another month has gone by. On Thursday it will be 20 months since our file was sent to Colombia. We were told 12-18 months for an allocation when we started and I regarded this as the "worst case scenario". At no time did I think we would still be waiting after 20 months. I am trying hard to keep my spirits up. Logic tells me that we will soon be allocated our much longed for child and our lives will be returned to us. But the fear and the anxiety persist and are very hard to shake off. The stupid "what ifs" and "we should have..." and "if only..." circle round and round my addled brain.

Anyway, enough self indulgent bullshit. Get a grip, girl!

The weekend just gone was fun. Jason had a corporate golf day (have you ever heard of such wankery?) whereby Apple Mac paid for him to bludge off work all day, play golf at one of Sydney's best golf courses, eat and drink to his heart's content and THEN by some mathematical miracle his team came second and they all won an iPod. Now is this the greatest non-work invention of the corporate world or what? Not that I'm in any position to complain about people slacking off (I've made it into an art form) but COME ON!!! Golf, food, drink, iPods = a work day? Please explain!

Will and I went to Surry Hills on Friday afternoon to look at Julia's (my dear sis) new flat. Oh, it's so very cool and wonderful. I yearn for the inner city life (and we are working on a plan, stay tuned). While it's very nice and very cool I'm afraid she won't pick up there - it's 99% gay with the token chickie babe thrown in. However, she has been told to find us both a gay boyfriend - I haven't had one since my teenage years and I do miss that "Will and Grace" style comradarie.

We then went to mum's and indulged in a seafood banquet in honour of JB's iminent moving out of the maternal home. I was ear-deep in mud crab and loving it. It's a hard life but someone's got to do it.

Saturday morning Will had a physio session (which he loves) followed by a haircut (which he also now loves). It's funny Will was TERRIFIED of having his haircut as a young child. You just had to walk slowly near a hairdresser and he would scream blue murder. For a few years there we were reduced to cutting his hair by having Jason (in the nude) holding Will (in the nude) in the shower while I cut his hair with the hair clippers. There would be screaming and crying and Will would be pretty upset too. It was an ugly scene. Then I found a new hairdresser at Pennant Hills I started going to and I asked her if she would mind having a go with Will. She was very gentle and playful with him and we managed our first proper hairdresser haircut without any hysterical screaming. After that it got better and better until now when we can just walk into any hairdresser/barber and he'll happily sit down and get his hair cut. He always asks for a "spiky" cut which is really cute.

On Saturday the young hairdresser who cut his hair must have been a bit bored with all the short-back-and-sides he does day in, day out because after he cut Will's hair he put it all up in spikes or little horns (or what we used to call a Statue of Liberty in my punk days) all over the front of his head - it was so cool and cute. I wish I'd made a photo.

Then we dropped Will off at dad's (who took him to Sydney Aquarium for the zillionth time this year - dad's now bought an annual pass!) and went off to help JB get her new flat ready for habitation. First off though we had to have some sustanance and we walked down to her "local Chinese" which just happens to be the "world famous" (well, there's a picture of Bill Clinton and Laurence Fishbourne eating there) Harry's Signapore Chilli Crab restaurant. Of course, we didn't have Chilli Crab (even I'm not up to that on a Saturday morning) but we did indulge in some very good salt and pepper squid and those yummy wide stir fried noodles.

Refreshed and replenished we got stuck in. I started on the cleaning and Jason took JB to Paddington to collect her stuff from her "office". By mid afternoon all her stuff was back at the flat and I had managed to scrub the bathroom to within an inch of its life and was half way through the kitchen (with big Jay's help - he's a must for those high, hard to reach places). Then we left JB to it and went home for some child free ... ahhmmm, rest.

On the way home JB rang to say that mum, who had come for a visit, had fallen down the little flight of stairs outside of JB's flat and JB had locked herself out while running to help. After a few panicked phone calls the drama was averted with the help of a friendly locksmith and all was well.

Saturday night we met up (again) with JB to attend the Boronia Park Public School Fundraising Trivia Night. I am a sucker for Trivia Nights and this one, being a fundraiser for Will's school, was a must. Obviously because we smell or are otherwise offensive in some way the people who were meant to sit on our table sat on another table without telling us - how rude! So it was just the three of us for most of the night - eventually we were joined by two more lost souls. While I have to say our trivial knowledge is respectable it was only good enough to earn us 17th place (out of 21 teams). I even remembered that Pb is the periodical table code for lead (and science was by far my worst subject at school - hard to believe for those of you who are familiar with my abysmal grasp of geography).

Sunday morning, after very unhappily waking up at 6:00 am to watch the recorded Swans vs Essendon game (who are the winners? WE ARE!!!), we set off to pick up Will from dad's. Then it was the long long drive up the F3 (I can not believe I used to do that drive every day - was I insane? don't answer that!) to visit Jason relos and to show them some old home movies which a friend of the family had transferred from Super 8 to DVD. This is where my shiny new laptop came in very handy.

Then it was off to Erina for lunch. [Our lives are like a Car Rally. We drive here, there and everywhere, with the occassional stop to see people, eat, shop, etc. But most of the time I feel liek we're just chasing our tails.] Now this was fun. We met up with our dear friends Aila, Craig and his daughter Madison, Jan and John and their gorgeous little baby Emma (whose not really all that "little" having two gigantors for parents). We went to Wagamama which has just opened up at Erina Fair. If you've been living under a rock or in a cave Wagamama is the new Japanese-fusion style place which started in London and is slowly taking over the world. We've been to the King Street Wharf one a few times and have always enjoyed it. It has a fun, informal atmosphere and decent food at fairly reasonable prices. On Sunday we sat outside in the lovely sunny courtyard area and enjoyed catching up.

Upon arriving home on Sunday afternoon we decided we could not tolerate our pig-sty of a house for a moment longer (our cleaner skipped her regular visit when we were sick so things were getting out of hand) and got stuck into a mini-super-powered cleaning session. With the floors de-fluffed and the bathroom de-yucked we were ready to kick back and enjoy some Sunday afternoon relaxation. I had made some six-hours-in-the-oven lamb shanks on Saturday night so we enjoyed those for dinner with some yummy couscous with stir fried veggies.

Then it was Big Brother eviction night. Who cares - Melanie got the boot. I really must say these are the most boring, non-entity bunch of nobodys I've ever come across. I really don't care who wins because I am hoping they all spontaneously combust before the big night. I don't even think that would make for interesting viewing at this point. There is now less than a week to go and I just can't for the pain to be over. I'm only watching out of (bad) habit so it'll be nice not to have to look at those boring sods any more (if they are boring, what does it say about moi? don't answer that!).

Monday morning we had to get up at 5:00 am to drive Aila and Craig (who had stayed the night) to the airport to start their holiday. After staying up last night to watch the final, not very satisfying, episode of Desperate Housewives, I have had a great night's sleep and feel reasonably human today.

OK, enough belly button gazing - back to the mines (or at least the pile of invoices which must be issued today which are piling up on my war zone of a desk).

Check out my friend Kath's blog "Blurb from the Burbs" - I've added it under "Links". She is very very funny (both "ha ha" and, you know, the other way). I've just about blown a headgasket reading her entry about colds - I can SO relate!

Oh! and I'm now the proud owner of a brand spanking new Sony laptop. Woohoo! It is very cool and shiny! There's a lot to be said for nepotism. It sure works for me!

The great, late Jim Morrison said it best "people are strange". Are they what! Friday night, desperate for some healthy (I use the word advsidedly) adult interaction, I drag my sick and sorry arse to the playgroup mums' night out. This is a fantastic and much anticipated event whereby all the ACC playgroup mums disentangle ourselves from our offspring and significant others and go to a restaurant for some half-decent food and not-so-decent conversation. Here's the scene: about half a dozen of us are at the restaurant waiting for the others. A woman (not one of ours) walks in, looks around, comes over. She says she's looking for a "mother's group". We say "we're a mother's group". She tells us she wasn't sure whether her dinner was tonight or next Friday so she came down anyway. We are all smiling politely and waiting for her to bugger off. She doesn't. She says "I'm here now, you don't mind if I join you?". Obviously the answer is "of course we mind, you crazy cow, piss off" but what comes out is "no, we don't mind, do join us". At this point she sits down and acts like it's totally normal to gatecrash a mother's group dinner with people you've never met in your life. She stays for the whole evening, eating, chatting, pretending to be a normal person.

Now some of our mums thought this was fine, a bit whacky, but generally OK. No people, this behaviour is not OK. It is bonkers. It wasn't a speed dating night for desperate and dateless adoptive mums. Maybe I'm overlly protective about these get-togethers but I have a pretty strict criteria - you must be an adoptive mum (or at least come with one - sisters, friends, etc. are allowed under certain circumstances), you must hate DoCS and have dedicated your life to opposing their evil deeds (OK, that last one is optional but certainly preferable and to be strongly encouraged). Strangers desperate for a night out, while to be empathised with, should under no circumstances be encouraged. Call me mean-spirited, call me cold and heartless, but "find your own damn friends" I say.

One good thing about being sick is I got to finish two books last week. I had finally finished "A Widow for Year" by John Irving the week before last and gee, was I glad to get that finished. Those John Irving books are so engrossing they sap the life out of you. I felt like I had been reading "Widow" for about ten years. Not one of his best though. So then I started on "Post Mortem" by Ben Elton. As with all his books (except High Society which was just too much hard work, terribly depressing despite the comedy) this books was really entertaining and I got through it in two days. It's a murder mystery (which I love) but with a twist. The protagonist, the detective, gets involved in a bit of nostalgia and joins Friends Reunited, the website which allows you to go back in time and find your old school friends. I could really relate to all the 80s references and I just found it a fun read. Highly recommended, especially if you were a teen of the 80s, like moi.

Then I got onto "In the company of cheerful ladies" which is the fifth (?) in the series of The Number One Ladies Detective Agency books. As with all the others this was a lovely gentle book which left me feeling happy with the world. Nothing like taking a quick visit to Botswana and the world of Mma. Ramotswe to refresh the perspective and wash away my usual jaded attitude. If you haven't discovered these beautiful, gentle books yet (as Mr Meldrum would say) do yourself a favour...

Have I mentioned my love for Antony and the Johnsons? If not, I should have. I "discovered" the devine Antony at a very special and amazing night I attended in January of this year at the Opera House - "Came So Far For Beauty" a tribute night to Leonard Cohen's music. I only went because of Nick Cave and came away with not only Antony but a love for some previously unheard of (by me) musicians such as Rufus and Martha Wainwright and The Handsome Family. Anyway, Antony is a giant, New York-based, transgender singer (feel free to re-arrange those descriptors in any order you like) whose voice and demeanor just blew me away on the night. He is like a fallen angel - his voice could not possibly come out of his body and he doesn't quite seem to reside comfortably in his own body. Yet for me he is musical magic: his voice is beauty, sadness, joy, bitterness, hope - every emotion and so much more. If you would like to hear one of my favourite songs "Mysteries of Love" please click here http://www.theworldofadam.com/mystery.html . However, Antony's songs are not all love and kisses, far from it. One of my favourites is called "I fell in love with a dead boy" and another "Fistful of Love" has much more emphasis on "fist" than on "love".

What can I say? I have eclectic taste in music.

I really shouldn't be writing this, I really should be using abseiling gear to climb on top of the mountain of paperwork which has bred on my desk during the past week... but blogging is just so much more fun than actual work. Anyway, I can't establish a connection to the bank to make some important payments so I need to while away some time somehow...

Last week was really, really bad. There is a good reason I never considered a career in nursing - I hate sick people! Including myself. In fact, myself more than anyone. Being sick sucks. It is boring and annoying and really just a waste of time. I'm not much of a laying around in bed person... unless it's with John Cusack or Anthony Keidis or... oh, ok my husband, sheesh! Bed is for sleeping and occassionally for reading on a Sunday morning and very occassionally for ... well, you know, the other stuff.

Will came down with the flu first. He was sick by Sunday lunchtime and was really bad on Monday and Tuesday. High temps (is there anything scarier for a parent?), coughing, runny nose, the whole shebang. By Tuesday afternoon he was on antibiotics and I was feeling like we might get on top of things. Tuesday night I was feeling decidedly crap but didn't want to deal with the idea of getting sick myself.

Wednesday morning I went to work for the first time that week, leaving Jason at home with Will. I managed two hours' of work and I was home in bed by 11:30 am. It was terrible. I must have had a really high temp because I was shaking uncontrolably, I couldn't even talk (hard to believe, but true). I somehow managed to drive myself home and fell into bed. Thursday I was somewhat better but still unable to get out of bed or do anything useful. Will and I spent the day in bed watching the three Harry Potter DVDs. As Will would say "We like Harry Potter, don't we!".

By Friday I was getting better but Will had developed a horrible, non-stop cough - all day, all night - it just didn't stop and I was getting scared he would do himself an internal injury. Nobody in the house was sleeping - it was like the Land of the Living Dead, but not as pretty. The stuff from the chemist was as good as useless. Back to the doctor we went. She gave us a brilliant cough syrup and we had our first, in a week, good night's sleep on Friday night. I felt like a new person Saturday morning.

Now it's my big boy's turn. Yep, the big Jay is sick. I was amazed he lasted this long with Will and I contaminating the air for a full week. He's been in bed since yesterday and will be going to the doctor (who must be heartily sick of our family by now) this afternoon. At least I'm at work and I don't have to look at his sick face all day. Gee, I hate sick people!

OK, enough sickness for one blog. Well, at least the physical kind. Let's backtrack a little...

The weekend before last was amazing, the best we've had for a while. We dropped Will and mum off at the Opera House, where she was taking him to see a children's production, and headed off for a "couple" day. The sun was shining and it was a totally beautiful Sydney winter day (bring on global warming, I say). Driving through the city we made an on-the-spot decision to have lunch at Jackson's Landing, a new harbourside development at Pyrmont, near the Casino. We hadn't been before and I had heard that there was a fabulous gourmet (isn't everything these days?) fish and chip cafe opened up down there.

As soon as we drove down there we were in love. It's a spectacular part of town and the park on the water down there affords a breathtaking view of two of my favourite Sydney landmarks - the Harbour Bridge and the Anzac Bridge. We bought our super yummy fish and chips and sat in the park gazing at our beautiful city. Why would you live anywhere else? After lunch we went for a walk and made a pact that within five years (unless we change our minds and/or get distracted by something else... oh, look what's that pretty thing...) we would buy an apartment down there and enjoy a city lifestyle. I've been playing this tune for some time but Jason's been reluctant, not wanting to swap our slice of suburbia (a pretty nice slice I must say) for the delights of city living. I get butteflies in my stomach just thinking how mindblowing it would be to sit out on our deck and have that stunning view every day. We'd be able to walk to Chinatown for yum cha every weekend (if that's not heaven then I don't know what is), Jason would be able to walk to work and we'd have the beautiful city of Sydney as our backyard.

After this little bit of daydreaming was over we went to the movies. I was really starting to despair of ever being entertained at the cinema again. But then we saw Sin City and my faith in film making was renewed. It had everything that's been missing for me at the cinema - i.e. entertainment. I want to fall into a movie and go for a ride and with Sin City that's just what I did. It's very violent and brutal but also funny and quite original - it left me with a very similar feeling to when I first saw Pulp Fiction - WOW! I wouldn't say I enjoyed it as much as Pulp Fiction - I really loved the multi-layered story line and the twists in the narrative - but it was certainly in the same league and with a very similar flavour.

As a quick aside, my sister and I went to see Me and My Sister on the Friday night. It was a French comedy-drama and I really quite enjoyed it. It's wonderful that Julia and I can work together all week and then still enjoy each other's company enough to socialise together out of work as well. (Most of the time) we get on so well and make each other laugh - it's like having my best friend with me all the time. Cool! [Don't get a big head when you read this, JB]

OK, in case I hadn't had enough movies for one weekend, when we got home from Sin City we had some dinner and decided to watch a movie on Home Box Office (without Will to entertain us there is so much time to kill). So we picked The Village. I was hoping I could still enjoy it even though I knew what "the twist" was, but I didn't really. It was a half decent movie but because I knew what was going to be revealed at the end I just couldn't get into the suspense of it.

Sunday we met up with Mum, Boris, Will (who had stayed the night at mum's) and Julia at The Summit for lunch to celebrate Jason's 36th birthday (yes, that's right, he's my toy boy!). The Summit is a revolving restaurant at the top of the Australia Square building and while my general theory is to avoid revolving (read: revolting) restaurants, this one is an exception. Jay and I went there for our anniversary in January this year and it was spectacular. One of those restaurants that does wonderful food, has amazing service and garnish the whole lot with a breathtaking view. We had been raving about it for months which meant that this lunch was bound to be a disaster - but it wasn't!

On a clear sunny day the view is forever and it really was gorgeous. As before the service was lovely - attentive but not in your face like some silver service restaurants can be. The menu reads beautifully and the best part is that the food tastes and looks as good as it sounds. As before I went for Oyster Mania to start. It's a half dozen oysters done a different way each - but not cooked (Oysters Kilpatrick are a crime against humanity and whoever Kilpatrick is, he ought to be ashamed of himself). IMHO an oyster should not be cooked - it should be served naturally with a wedge of lemon or, if you have a very confident chef, it should be served with a few select dressings which enhance the beautiful oyster flavour. This is what Oyster Mania is - the oysters are presented on a long plate, three on the shell and three in shot glasses - each with a gorgeous dressing. A must for the serious oyster fans.

Then I had the chicken which was served with rare scallops and a seafood bisque. Again this was a stunning main course - except the waiter told us the chickens were a month old which made me a little sad ... only a little, I'm such a carnivore I'm sure it would only be minutes after the plane crash in the Andes before I would be tucking into my fellow survivor's thigh with a half apologetic smile.

I was going to have the hot chocolate pudding for dessert but that would have taken 20 minutes and we were all over it by then so I decided on the dessert selection plate (is there a better combination of words in the English language?). What a work of art! Four tiny sweet morsels beautifully arranged on a long plate. Too good to eat! Well, not really - I managed. As my boss Bob would say - "I love food! I wouldn't eat anything else!"

So now we come to the end of the nice part of the weekend and the beginning of the bad, bad part. The part where this blog starts - the SICK part. After that beautiful weekend of warm weather, Sydney sights, great movies and fabulous food - the crowning glory is a very sick child, soon to be followed by a very sick mother, a very sick dad and a patridge in a pear tree!

I don't know about you, but I need a Bex and I good lie down!

Nothing exciting to report. It's Friday and I'm feeling like I've caught up on a fair bit of work (which is a relief... around this time of the year I always feel like I've "missed something" and the piles of paperwork really scare me... but enough about my tax related anxieties).

It's been a fairly quiet week. I've got back on my walking machine (4 x 1/2 hour sessions this week) so I'm feeling like the blood is pumping again. Moving it into the spare room was a great decision. Now I can go in there, close the door and put the tv on loud (so I can hear it over the annoying squeaking noise the walker makes) and do a good half hour without being disturbed or disturbing anyone else.

We finally got some guys in to fix our tv reception. That was a wise investment. We've been "suffering" from poor reception for a very long time but it just never seemed a good time to spend the money. Well, I had enough the other day and rang one of those tv antenna companies and two young men turned up yesterday morning. Now we have a brand new, digital ready (??) antenna and a box which allows us to watch our Foxtel tv through all the tvs in the house. It's cool! Also the nice young men tuned in our super-duper-need-a-university-degree-to-figure-out-how-the-hell-to-use-the-damn-thing DVD/VCR recorder/player. Now we can tape the Swans' game on Sunday while we're enjoying our lunch at The Summit for Jay's birthday. Life is good!

A cute Will story: Last night Will came into our room about 2:00 am. We are prepared for this and have a little child's sofa bed made up every night next to our bed. Generally he comes in to our room at night about 50% of the time. He has his own little bed and just climbs in and goes to sleep - everyone's happy. Lately he's been a bit "scared" of this and that so he's been wanting to sleep in our bed which we discourage as much as possible. Anyway, last night he lays down in his little bed. After five minutes he says "Mum, I'm scared." I say "Why?". He says "Because of the monsters." I say "There are no monsters, sweetie, go back to sleep." After another five minutes he says "Mum, I'm scared." I saw "Why?" He says "Because someone's coming." I say "There's no-one coming, sweetie, go back to sleep." Another five minutes "Mum, can you tell dad to go sleep in my room and then I can sleep on his pillow?" That cracked me (and cracked me up). Poor Jason was relegated to Will's bed and the little monkey was peacefully sleeping on "dad's pillow" within a few minutes. If only I could be a tough parent like on "Supernanny".

Well, time for lunch. Speaking of lunch, it's big Jay's 36th birthday next Tuesday and we're in for a week's worth of celebrating. Yum yum - I do love eating out... and eating in... well, generally just eating. Better keep getting on that walking machine or I'll need to be booking two seats for myself on that plane to Colombia.

A quick catch up...

Will is back at school - yippee! Don't get me wrong, it's great that he's had a break and has enjoyed time with his baba and his dodo and with me and catching up with some of his "outside of school" friends... but I'm way behind at work and I need to do some serious catching up on the paperwork front. Which is why I'm sitting here at work doing my blog ???!!!

Mental health has been much better this last week. Perspective back in place and equilibrium re-established... well, sort of...

Have had a cool week. Visited Rosalie and her brood of three on Thursday. Will and Andres enjoyed some "rough play" and I enjoyed cooing over gorgeous little Jorge - poor Estefenia just got stuck in the middle (the woes of the middle child). Friday took Will swimming with my friend Marg and her girls Lili and Ella. Had a great time (didn't scare any of the other swimmers, no beached whale alerts issued, did well). Thank goodness for indoor pools. Spent a few hours gossiping at McDonalds while the kids played [can recommend their new cappucinos - really good for a fast food joint].

Weekend started on a good note - yum cha. Note to self: have yum cha every Saturday to ensure eternal happiness [a billion Chinese people can't be wrong!]. Communal yum cha with Brett, Therese and their girls, Kimberly and Claudia, was great fun. Will is really doing well with his chopsticks.

Saturday night watched (on TV) the Swannies kick some serious Melbourne butt. It was good, reeeaaallllyyyy GOOD! Melbourne are above us on the ladder so beating them by a good margin is very reassuring. This Sunday we're up against the West Coast Eagles who are at the top of the ladder and either undefeated or very close to it. Scary! but not for us Swan supporters. By the way, did you know that swans are the only birds with a penis? There you go, you learnt something.

Sunday we did more socialising and more eating. It is really great to have wonderful friends with whom to while away a fine Sydney Sunday, eating good food and chatting.

What was even better about Sunday was that Dean was evicted from Big Brother. It was so cool seeing that smug little shithead getting the heave-ho. Boy, was he surprised. Unfortunately we had a power blackout for 1 1/2 hours right after he was evicted so I didn't get to see the rest of the show, which was disappointing as I really wanted to watch that SOB squirm.

Monday was work but since Will hadn't started school (don't get me started on "student free days" - what the???!! - I know teachers work hard, have a tough job, blah blah blah, but give me a break...) he came to the office with me. Luckily dad took him to see "Because of Winn Dixie" [apparently not recommended for six year old boys] in the morning and I was able to get the wages done. At lunchtime we met up with my friend Lori and her little fellow Enrico at the local park for some lunch and a good catch up (I haven't seen Lori for a long time).

A quick movie recommendation: Last night we watched "The Forgotten" on Home Box Office. I love Julianne Moore and had been wanting to see it for some time. It was a really good thriller. I can't go into it too much but we both thought it was well done and kept you guessing all the way. Good cast, decent script, great "look". As an aside, I have to say that Julianne Moore's role as the mother who doesn't love her son in "The Hours" was one of the most memorable and powerful performances I have ever seen. Just thinking about it makes me want to cry. I really think she should have been up for the Oscar for that role - she was amazing. She was great in "The Shipping News" too.

Well, back to the salt mines...

Well, the last post finished abruptly because I ran out of time and planned to return to it to finish it off but the end of last week sucked so I didn't bother.

To be blunt last Friday I "hit the wall" with our second adoption. I got some news that we still have a few months to wait (after already waiting 19 months since our papers were sent + 15 months for the actual adoption approval process - at this point we are 34 months from the day we lodged our initial paperwork to start this adoption) and I blew a gasket. I did this in a very similar way when we were waiting for Will so I recognised the symptoms. All logic, common sense and perspective goes out the window and a horrible sense of self-pity, anxiety and doubt settles in. Tears follow. Then the realisation of how selfish and self-absorbed you are being, how there are people with "real" problems in the world, blah blah blah. Then more tears follow as you think about what a terrible person you are. Then you think some more about how "unfair" (as if you know anything about unfairness) this horrible long wait is, how your life is on hold and how you're becoming a terrible, whinging fishwife and making everyone around you hate you. Then you cry some more. Then you think about London and the poor people who have lost their lives and their families who have lost loved ones and about how much you despise the terrorists and their patheticness and their viciousness and their total devoidness from humanity. Then the tears turn to sobs. That was pretty much Friday in a nutshell.

Needless to say I didn't get much work done and made my poor, beautiful sister very anxious with my carry-on. Thanks for putting up with crappola, Jules.

Thanks also to my dear friend Claire who caught the end of the my bad Friday when I stopped by her place on my way home to unload a little on a fellow adoptive mum. The bottom line is that only adoptive parents really understand other adoptive parents, especially when it comes to the actual adoption process and the WAIT. It can not be truly comprehened by anyone else, no matter how close a friend or family member. Also, thanks to Marlene who rang me on Friday night and listened to some more of sad-arse whining.

Of course thanks also to Jason for putting up stoically with my unbearableness and my demented ranting and raving. He really is my rock (I said ROCK, Jay) and I don't know what I'd be doing without him.

Saturday I awoke feeling somewhat more human and with my perspective on life back in gear (maybe not in high gear but kicking in, nevertheless). It was a very productive morning with Jay and I clearing out the junk room (aka the guest bedroom). It is amazing how no matter how many bedrooms you have there must always be one room that accumulates crap. Since we've been in this house (4 years) that room has been the smaller bedroom which is now the [EMPTY] baby's room. A few months ago we pulled out all the stops and got that room prepared. May I say it is a lovely baby's room and all it needs now is a baby.

However, the aforementioned crap was then distributed to the large and quite gorgeous front bedroom which has always been our guest room. This crap was then added to when I took on the job of fundraising co-ordinator for our adoptive families support group ACC (Australians Caring for Children - www.accau.org ). This involved taking custody of boxes full of miscellaneous "stuff". So our own crap with the addition of the ACC stuff added up to one hell of a mess. I lived in dread should someone ask to stay the night as the bed could not be seen and it was almost impossible to even access the bed from the door. It was a major disaster.

So we got stuck in and we did it! A van full of stuff went to the tip (is there anything which typifies male bonding more than a father and son trip to the tip?). A van full of stuff went to St Vinnies and a half dozen items went to the mysterious place known as "under the house". There are still some boxes and bits and pieces in the room but it is now a tidy room. The bed is not only visible but completely free of crap. It is ready for guests - any takers?

After all that hard work we had a much too big for lunch lunch at Tony Roma's in the city. It is right near Jason's office and was one of his favourite haunts when he worked with Gavin but since Gavin moved onto bigger and better things Jason hasn't been indulging in all those ribs nearly as often. So I guess he was missing them when he suggested TR's for lunch. Look it was OK but I'd still prefer yum cha.

After lunch I dropped the boys off in Paddington - they were going to the football (Rugby League this time) to see Cronulla (Jay's team) get whipped by Souths (contenders for the wooden spoon). Not a good result and Jay was not a happy chappy when I picked the boys up later in the evening. I spent the time shopping and having coffee with my dear sister so I got the better end of that deal.

The only thing that salvaged the day for Jason was coming home and watching the Swans on TV. Not only did they play superbly but they very convincingly beat Geelong who are above them on the ladder, thus giving us hope that they can make and stay in the top 4 as we go into the finals season.

Sunday was an enjoyable day starting with golf for Jason (best score ever apparently) and cooking for moi. Our good friends Aila, Craig and Craig's daughter Madison, as well as Paul, Natalie and their two girls, all joined us for lunch. It was lovely. Good food and good friends, can't ask for more than that on a Sunday afternoon, can you?

Jules dropped in to take Will to mum's so we decided to go to see Bewitched. Yes, I know ... but we love Will Ferrell so we wanted to give it the benefit of the doubt. We shouldn't have. Very few movies have NO redeemable features - this is one of them. It wasn't even BAD (which may have given us a giggle at its "badness") it was just nothing. It was so poorly written it was laughable (which was the only thing that was). Will Ferrell was so funny in Saturday Night Live and I loved him in Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back and Old School and even Anchorman but he was totally neutured in Bewitched. As someone who is interested in scriptwriting I find it truly mind-blowing that someone could present such a lame script and have it produced into a major, multi-million dollar Hollywood movie. It is truly an insult to scriptwriting and movie making.

So now it's Tuesday morning. I'm at the office waiting for Jules to turn up with Will. I miss him so much, even when he's only been away a day and a half. Can't wait to see him.

Before I sign off a big congratulations to my cyber friend Julie and her husband Marc who have just been been allocated a baby boy from Guatemala. I don't know any details yet as it is early days at the moment but I'm so very happy for them. I hope all goes well with their adoption process and that their little son is son home.

It's Thursday morning and I'm back at work. Will has gone for a day at the Sydney Aquarium (and other Darling Harbour delights) with his wonderful Dodo (aka Henry aka my dad aka Will's grandfather).

We are so blessed to have a loving family who are always willing and very happy to spend time with Will. It is probably the most precious resource parents can have and we really appreciate that both my mum and dad and sister are always enthusiastic about spending time with Will, whether it's for an afternoon or for the weekend. Sadly Jason's family live in Perth which makes it impossible for them to have the same amount of contact but it must be said that we are so very lucky to have wonderful family who love and support us, even if it is from a distance. I see friends struggling with the balancing act of children, work, household chores, not to mention a little bit of adult/sanity time without family support and I really offer a great big "thank you" to our own crazy family who, despite their little eccentricities, are always there for us.

It's been a busy week so far. Monday night was so a bit bizarro! Will was at mum's so we decided to go out for a quick meal. We were originally going to see the new Oz film The Oyster Farmer but I was feeling tired and thought a nice dinner out might be the way to go. Decided on The Ranch bistro - it's nothing flash but it's quite a decent bistro and not far from home. We got there at 6:05 pm expecting to see tumbleweed blowing down between the tables - I mean, who goes out on a Monday night? Well, apparently half of Sydney. It was chock-full! They have "mums eat free" on Monday nights and everything points to there being a lot of hungry but cheapskate mothers in the north-west area of Sydney. We decided not to wait.

So we get back into the traffic to head home and decide to pull into this weird little area between Marsfield and Eastwood where Jason thinks he's seen a few restaurants. We drive up to this intersection and yes, there are a few restaurants - including something called Ray's Chinese Restaurant. We should have been warned right then and there but it looked cosy and there were a few people in there eating. I decided it looked like one of those "local secrets" and that all the locals were in on this great little restaurant and we'd stumbled upon it - lucky us! NOT!

Once we were inside I decided it was actually a set from a David Lynch film. While it was called a Chinese restaurant there hardly any Chinese meals on the menu. Everyone around us seemed to be having huge plates of lamb cutlets with prawns and honey-mint sauce (this was a blackboard special). We stuck to our guns and ordered Chinese. Really it wasn't too bad but the plate of pork chops we ordered was HUGE. Never seen anything like it before. I have a feeling that next time we drive past it won't be there, that it was just some strange illusion.

Tuesday night we took Will to the Sydney Swan's Kids' Night at the SCG. It was basically a training session for the Swans and afterwards they came over and signed the kids' shirts, caps, autograph books, whatever. Will was thrilled to meet some of his heroes like Barry Hall (Big Bazza), Michael O'Laughlin and Adam Goodes. It was funny when Ben Matthews came over; Will isn't that familiar with Ben (who has played with the Swans for a number of years but isn't one of the "flashy" players). Will says to him"what's your name, mate?". Everyone had a laugh but I thought - Will is really a chip off the old block, so much like he's dad it's a bit scary. It was a great night and I'm very impressed with how patient and good natured the Swannie boys were with the kids.

That was a fine weekend, a damn fine weekend. Let's see now...

Friday: Nice dinner, early to bed with BB on the TV. Jason stayed up till all hours watching the footy and then Wimbeldon. Is it unpatriotic to be glad that Lleyton Hewitt (major pratt) lost? Either way, I'm glad - he shits me!

Saturday we were all up bright and early - well, later than we normally get up but early by most people's standards anyway. I dropped Jason and Will in the city for some father/son bonding at the movies (the new Herbie movie - Hollywood recycling strikes again). I picked up Jules and we headed to Darling Harbour for the Good Food and Wine Show.

What fun! Stall after stall of yummy food to try and showbags to buy. It was crazy: we were trying yoghurt, then chili sauce, then cheese, then crackers, jellybeans, pizza, nuts, juices... whoa! The worst thing was we went for the showbags too early. I never learn. The showbags are heavy and after carrying a few around for a while you loose the will to live and just want to curl up in the corner. We have made a pact to either bring an old lady's trolley or my husband with us next year. Since there are lots of wines and boutique beers to try I'm sure Jason could be tempted. By the time we returned to the car, laden down like pack mules, we were cursing the Food and Wine Show, ourselves and anyone who walked past us who WASN'T laden down like a pack mule. We were even cursing the demise of chivalry and the rise of feminism - where were the gallant men eager to carry our bags? Not a one in sight. Tragic!

Well, we left the bags in the car and, nursing dislocated shoulders, wandered the two blocks (OK, Jules it may be 3 or 4) to Chinatown for yum cha. Don't you just love yum cha? What would the world be without it? A soul-less place to live, a place devoid of humanity, of joy... hell on earth - that's what the world would be without yum cha!!! Happily Will feels the same way. We have been bringing him to yum cha since he was 18 months old and now he slurps up his soy sauce noodles and man-handles his prawn dumplings like a champ. He's still struggling with the chopsticks but I didn't master them until my early 30s so he's doing a million times better than me. [Have you tried the mango pancakes? If not, drop what you're doing right now and head to your nearest yum cha restaurant. Don't waste your life like I did. There I was, a foolish egg tart addict, wasting my life, not a clue as to what I was missing. Then one day mango pancakes came into my life and I've never looked back. Praise the yum cha lord!]

OK, where was I? Saturday night was quite. After taking Jules home we returned to Pomona Street and I spent a fun evening unpacking my showbags and wedging all my new sauces, sachets and spice mixes into my already chockers pantry.

Oh, I forgot the Saturday afternoon shopping expedition. On the way home from dropping off Jules we did a detour to WBJ (Westfield Bondi Junction for those not in the know). Jason had a dire and drastic need for a new pair of shoes (he is such a princess in the body of a 6' 2" ogre). Of course the shoes he "needed" eluded him but I did come away with two gorgeous cardigans, a pair of earrings, a necklace and two fabulous jumpers for Will (half price, who could blame me?).

Sunday started with a family cleaning session. Our cleaner Sandy missed her usual fortnightly visit due to illness so we had to do it ourselves. Not so bad really. Amazing how quickly you can do a clean when you get stuck into it!

Then we went to lunch. It is tradition at Oztech, my faithful employer for the last 14.5 years, to have a staff lunch or dinner to celebrate the end of the financial year (as well as the end of the year, i.e. Christmas). So around the 30th of June each year we do something "fun". OK, I try to organise something "fun" but usually it ends up a shamozle! Last year we went bowling and then out for a steak dinner. Sounds good so far?! Bowling was fine, it was the dinner which was horrendous. Food lousy, service terrible, waiting time - forget about it!!!

This year I wanted to make a better impression. Did I? Shit no! We went to the Gladesville Hotel, a pub with a reputation as a good family venue. Well the "family" part was fine - there was a great kids' area and a clown for face painting, etc. However, the food and service were terrible. As an example, we ordered a variety of different steaks - some had a scotch fillet, some had rump, etc. all with different sauces and sides. The waitress turned up with the first steak and just plonked it on the table. Didn't say this is a "...." or ask who was having a "..." - just sat it down on the table and walked off. We had to crash tackle her to ask her what it was and she didn't have a clue. It was chaotic, slow and most of the food was disgusting. Well, back to the drawing board.

We then did a whirlwind visiting tour of both of my grandmothers. Nothing significant to report there. Then a super quick dinner at mum's and then the much anticipated trip to Gold Class at Greater Union at WBJ to see Batman Begins. What can I saw about Gold Class cinemas? It was pure heaven. The most amazingly comfortable armchairs I've ever encountered in my 37 years. A hot chocolate and a bowl of caramel popcorn (too sweet, for future reference). Just bliss. Thoroughly recommend it for a luxury night out.

The movie? Not bad at all. I like Christian Bale. He's a bit brooding, a bit interesting and ever since he had sex with Ewen McGregor in a bathtub on a rooftop in Velvet Goldmine I've been hooked. He was fantastic in American Psycho. Just something about him... The story was good, well thought out plot but poor dialogue, generally good cast except for Katie Holmes (she's like 12 and really can't act, not my idea of a romantic heroine at all). Gotham City was a little disappointing. I loved the way it looked in the first Batman movie - very gothic and dark. This time it just looked dirty and it rained continuously - very depressing.

Saw a short for Dark Water, a new horror movie with Jennifer Connolly - written by the same guy who wrote The Ring. I love that creepy Japanese horror stuff. This one looks amazingly scary - I can't wait. It's a really love/hate relationship with me and horror films - I love them but usually watch from behind my fingers.

OK, this epic better come to an end right now. Have a great week.

Ask and ye shall receive! Wouldn't it be cool to spend a day just speaking like they did in the Bible? On the other hand "ye" is probably the only term that springs immediately to mind so it would be a pretty boring day just saying "ye" all the time. But I digress...

Yesterday I asked for some blue sky and.. guess what? Woke up to a beautiful, cloud-free blue sky day. A week's worth of heavy rain has washed the world clean and it's all shiny and bright today. Beautiful! I love driving across Gladesville Bridge with that view of Sydney across the glistening water and all the boats bobbing around... makes me so proud of being a Sydney-sider.

Anyway, here I am on a beautiful blue sky-ed Friday looking forward to a nice weekend. Tomorrow Jules and I are hitting the Good Food and Wine Show at Darling Harbour. I've got a 2 for 1 ticket, so what the hell! I am a sucker for the showbags with all the little samples in them - I don't ever get around to using half of them, but it's so much fun getting home and getting all the little bottles and satchets and recipe booklets out of the showbags.

Sunday we have a work lunch to celebrate the end of the financial year. Then we're dropping Will off at mum's for a couple of days (school holidays start on Monday). We're hoping to see Batman Begins at the Gold Class cinema on Sunday evening (I got the tickets for my birthday in March and still haven't had a chance to use them). I love the Batman movies and I really like Christian Bale - we're both really looking forward to it. We rarely get to go to the movies together these days.

Sorry, another BB incident... This week's task is they have to attend the BB school; so every morning they put on school uniforms, etc. They have like a class, where they sit at school desks and BB ask them school-type questions. Last night he asked "Who said "Let them eat cake" ". Christie (competing for the world's dumbest bimbo title) answered "Jesus". I just about had a meltdown. What the??? Surely that sort of information is embedded in our DNA; we're born knowing the answer to that question. Right? Anyway, it was poor old Tim (the only one with anything approximating a brain in the BB household) who had to answer, as he always does, "Marie Antoinette".

I really don't know why I keep watching that show... some sort of masochist urge I'm sure. All it does is give me indigestion and adds to my dread about the future of humanity. If these young people are our future we're all in deep poo. Hopefully there are a whole lot of much nicer, smarter and generally better young people out there who are busy leading nice, smart and generally good lives and haven't got time for crap like Big Brother.

There is virtually nothing left to watch on TV at the moment. I have tried watching "House" which started this week but after only 2 episodes I can already see the pattern and that it's just going to be same thing week in week out.

I guess I can just get more reading done. I have been trying to finish "Widow for One Year" by John Irving for a few weeks now but, like all his books, this one is dense and it takes me a while to get through it. That's not to say I'm not enjoying it, I am, it's just not an "easy" read. For those who haven't seen it I recommend "The Door in the Floor" which was a recent movie with Jeff Bridges (love him!) and Kim Bassinger. It's based on the first section of "Widow for One Year" and it's a very good movie with great performances - especially from Ms Bassinger who I never spotted for a great actress.

On my list of books to read is "Post Mortem" Ben Elton's newie (a Mother's Day gift) - I'm really eager to get into that one. I've also just picked up "Times Square" on DVD - this is a movie from the early 80s which really defines that time of my life. It's about a rich girl and a "loser" girl who run away from hospital together and have a wild time in the New York underworld. It's got a kick-arse soundtrack with The Ramones' "I wanna be sedated", "Life during wartime" by Talking Heads and "Pissing in the river" by Patti Smith being a stand out tracks for me - the whole soundtrack is amazing.

Have a great weekend. K

Not a lot to report really. It's Thursday afternoon, it's raining, raining, raining. I know I'm a totally ungrateful wretch but after a full week of rain (which we so badly need) I'm over it. I crave a glimpse of blue sky to lift my spirits.

I'm feeling a little low. Don't know why really. Is it the never ending adoption wait that's doing my head in? Possibly. Is it the super annoying client who is refusing to pay and therefore causing me a headache? Good chance! Is it that the three new "intruders" on Big Brother are as stupid and insipid as all the other no-hoper dropkicks who are already residing in the BB household? I'm prepared to put money on it!

Why is my life so meaningless and shallow? Listen to the echoing silence....

Note to self... When you are finished with adoptions (i.e. when our family is complete) and there is little chance of ever crossing paths with the useless beaurocrats who populate the adoption world use this Blog to express how you really feel about the state of Adoption, especially ICA, in Australia. Today is one of those days when my blood boils as I think about the millions of children around the world (including here in Australia) who need to grow up in a loving family (but can't through no fault of their own), and of all the families who want to give some of these children a loving home and a rich family life and of all those beaurocrats who make it their business to screw things up...

Deep breaths ... in... out ... in... out...

Hopefully a better state of mind tomorrow.

It's Tuesday morning and it's still raining - yay!!! Let's recap the last few days...

Friday night we met our friends Marlene and Vern for the very first time. They are the family after us on the waiting list (Oz) for La Casita de Nicholas in Medellin, Colombia - where our second child is hopefully waiting for us right now. They live on the far North Coast of NSW so we have only been cyber friends until this weekend. We finally met on Friday night and had a wonderful time getting to know each other at Sydney's one and only Colombian restaurant.

I wasn't sure what to expect re: Colombian food but we were all very pleasantly surprised. Not sure if it's Colombian food in general or this restaurant in particular but the servings are HUGE! My plate contained: mince, pork belly, a small steak, a chorizo sausage, a fried egg, yummy beans, rice, avocado, arepo (like a corn flour bread) and fried plantains (cooking bananas). Even with Jason's help I couldn't get through it. While we really wanted to try dessert it was not humanly possible to fit it in.

Saturday was Will's final swimming lesson for term two. He is swimming like a fish - hard to believe it's the same boy who two and a half years ago cried for the entire lesson - all term (it was pitiful and shows what a cold hearted mother I am, making him continue with the lessons even though he was so sad). After swimming we enjoyed a quick morning tea at our friends' house before Jason whisked Will off to the city for some Darling Harbour fun. They watched the Sharks 3-D movie at IMAX, did two trips round the city on the monorail and had a greasy lunch - what more could two boys want in life?

I enjoyed a peaceful afternoon at home cooking up a storm. I am trying to use spare time on the weekends to cook up some casseroles to freeze so that I am not so manic every evening. Especially when I have a meeting to go to in the evening it can be stressful getting home, making dinner, doing homework, reading, etc. with Will, plus any other chores like washing which may need doing and then still getting out for the meeting at around 7:00 pm. Anyway, Saturday I cooked which I really do find enjoyable and relaxing.

So it's raining on and off all day. I had told Jason I wasn't going to the Swans' game if it was still raining and he'd decided to go on his own (that's true dedication for you!). Anyway, around 4:00 pm the rain stops and stays stopped! By 5:30 pm - when we usually leave home to pick up our friends Bob and Tricia on the way to the game - it's still dry. We packed our stuff, picked up Bob and Tricia. Still dry. Cut a long story short... not a drop of rain during the entire game. In fact, it was much warmer than I thought it might be - I didn't even need the rug I'd brought for my lap. Better still the Swannies did kick Collingwood's butt - well, it was a very small kick (they won by 1 point) but it was a kick nevertheless!

Happily we return to our car for the drive home and guess what - the rain starts as soon as we drive out of the car park - it rains all night and most of Sunday. Do you think the great non-denominational all-powerful entity in the sky might be a Swan's fan? I think so!

Sunday Marlene and Vern come for lunch and we are joined by Melissa and her gorgeous 18 month old daughter Daniella. Daniella was born in Medellin and Melissa and her husband Craig (who couldn't make it as he was in Hawaii - it's a hard life being a Qantas pilot!!!) adopted Daniella last year from La Casita so we all feel like the "La Casita de Nicholas Family". We enjoyed a lovely day of chatting, eating and daydreaming about our children from the beautiful city of Medellin, Colombia.

Ignore this bit if your IQ is bigger than your shoe size. Sunday night... eviction night on Big Brother. Now I know I shouldn't care but somehow I do. Geneva was evicted and now there are only 3 girls left and lots of stupid boofy blokes who really make me wish I lived on the island where Wonder Woman came from (i.e. the island where there are NO blokes). Not that the girls on BB are anything special, I probably wouldn't spit on any of them if they were on fire, but the guys are just spectacularly oaf-ish, rude, self-centred and just plain nasty. I really hope either evil Dean or that stupid Glen are evicted this week... if only I could be bothered voting...

Returning back to normal transmission... Monday morning we got up bright and early (well, actually it was 6:00 am - our normal rise and shine time) and drove to the airport to meet our wonderful friends Tim and Rosalie who were returning from Colombia with their "surprise". Their surprise is Jorge, their third child and a biological sibling to their eldest son Andres. Last year they brought home their cheeky little daughter Estefenia. So now they are a family of five and slightly in shock but very happy. So we were lucky enough to be able to meet them at Sydney Airport yesterday morning. Will and Andres are great mates so they were overjoyed to see each other and spent a very happy time wrestling on the mat in front of the emergency doors while we caught up and ooh-ed and aaah-ed over gorgeous little Jorge.

Before I sign off I think an honourable mention is needed. "Our shops" are back! Huh??? you say. Well, when we moved to our house we had a small and run down but very useful shopping centre about 30 seconds drive from our house and (very importantly) on the same side of Pennant Hills Road as us. It was a taken-for-granted luxury to be able to pop up there after work to pick up a few things or go later in the evening once Will was in bed for a proper BIG shop in peace and quiet. A year ago it was closed down for major renovations and we have really "suffered" (OK, suffered might be a strong word but it's been BAD). We've had to shop here, there and everywhere and our shopping routine went out the window. Even when Cherrybrook shops reopened just before Christmas and things improved considerably it was still tough. After all Cherrybrook isn't far but it is on the other side of Pennant Hills Road. When I made the mistake of going there on a Thursday evening it took me 30 minutes to make what would normally be a 7 minute trip.

So ... drum roll please ... Thornleigh Marketplace is officially opened and may I say it is BEAUTIFUL. So far only Woolworths (who own the centre) are opened and it is a lovely supermarket, new and shiny and full of wonderful new and shiny things and trolleys with all four wheels working (ah, heaven!). Next door is Dan Murphys which is a discount liquor store (and almost as big as Woolworths - being a non-drinker I have to question whether a liquor store needs to be as big as a supermarket, but what do I know?!). Anyway, the presence of Dan Murphys make my husband a very, very, very happy man. They are cheap, they have a huge range and they are close by - what else does an Aussie bloke need in life? There is also a chemist, a newsagent, a post office, hairdresser and optometrist. Within the next few weeks we'll also have a Brumby's (bread - yum), a couple of coffee shops, a butcher and a Sushi bar. We are very excited about the Sushi - we all like it but Will loves it and will often ask for it if we're having lunch at a shopping centre food hall (I guess McDonalds haven't brainwashed all the children yet!).

If you're still awake after that long bit of nothing - congratulations! See you next time.

Well, here we are... my very first blog entry. First off, a thank you to my cyber-friend Julie whose own blog http://www.talesfromthestirrups.blogspot.com/ inspired my own venture into Blogland.

Now that I'm here I'm not so sure what to say... It's a rainy Friday here in Sydney and boy do we need the rain. We are just about at water restriction level 427, rich Australians are flying their cars to New Zealand to be washed properly, with a hose, rather than pathetically out of a bucket (credit where credit's due - thanks James Valentine for that bit of comic relief).

It was lovely to wake up last night to hear the rain on our roof and know that our poor parched grass was finally getting a drink. It can rain all it likes until tomorrow late afternoon when we are going to watch the Sydney Swans kick Collingwood's bottom at Telstra Stadium. It's really no fun sitting out there in the cold and pouring rain (believe me, I've been there) so while the rain is wonderful a clearing of the clouds between about 6:00 pm and 10:30 pm Saturday night would be greatly appreciated. [An aside for non-Australians, the Sydney Swans are our AFL team of choice. AFL is Australian Football which is played with a pointy, oval ball by gorgeous young men with long legs in tight shorts. That's really all I know about it but that's enough for me. If you need to know more go to www.sydneyswans.com.au ].

Perhaps I should explain the name of my blog - The Adventures of Deep Kick Girl Down Under. Well "Deep Kick" is my (possibly) favourite Red Hot Chili Peppers song. For those who know me the connection is clear, for those who don't... the Chili Peppers are a very important part of my life and have been since about 1991. "Deep Kick" comes from their One Hot Minute CD which I think is one of their best but it is unfortunatley maligned by many philistines who wouldn't know their arse from their elbow.

One Hot Minute featured the guitar work of the amazing Dave Navarro (ex and now ex-ex - i.e. he's back - Jane's Addiction). I will pick him over John F. every time (though it could cost me my life in some Chili Pepper circles). Of course no-one compares to Hillel - RIP - the original and the best IMHO.

Anyway, "Deep Kick" is about Flea and Anthony being teenagers around Hollywood in the early 80s. It takes me back to my own teenage years which were wild and fun and fantastic and I love that feeling. It also features one of my favourite lines in a song - sung by Flea in his car-wreck of a voice at the end of the song - "...the Butthole Surfers said: it's better to regret something you did than something you didn't do. We were young... we were young and we were looking for the Deep Kick." Amen to that!

OK, that will probably do for a first entry. Here's to a great weekend.