Rottnest Island … The Musical!

Just like any TV show that’s worth it’s weight in awesomeness has done, I have decided this entry should be written as a musical.  So make sure, you the faithful reader, to participate or else my youtube searching and linking will have been done in vain … thank you …

Due to Rob’s upcoming sailing education and my zoo docent training we realised our next 10 (yup read ’em ten) weekends are busy – so we quickly seized the day and booked a Saturday trip to Rottnest Island.  

Rottnest is a fun little island just 19 kilometres off the coast of Fremantle. The best way to get around is by bicycle since you can’t hire cars.

Upon our arrival we quickly hopped on our bicycles and set out to explore the 24 kilometres of road (and flora and fauna and water and stuff).   We hedged our bets that the majority of the visitors that day were not fit enough to cycle the complete distance of the island so we headed out towards the end of the island right away making a few stops along the way.  The water was absolutely gorgeous and I couldn’t help but think to myself “hmmm, this isn’t even polluted … yet”.

Part way through we came across a lighthouse which is always a fabulous sight to evoke emotional ballads from 1977 Disney musicals.  
Although that song was much more appropriate for the setting I was really hoping I could use this one in the blog – so here you go   .

Being one of the lesser known musicals people did not join in my one woman sing-along (Rob sat this one out).  Even though there was no excitement for the song we still took the tour – which was basically climbing all of the stairs up 19 meters to the light in the house for a 360 degree view of the island.  It was cool and stuff.  We made the tour guide take our picture – and she thankfully managed to not get the actual view in it … so basically it’s just a head shot of Rob and I. 

After stopping and taking in more of the scenery I realised that one of the best musicals EVER also included singing and bicycles and SURELY Rob would agree to singing along to this one.  So I began, just as Maria did with the Von Trappe children and “start at the very beginning” as it’s a “very nice place to start” … and thus began  … however in my case (once again) it stayed as a solo.

The riding around all day made us quite hungry we had a fancy meal of Subway and looked at the pretty quokkas.  (Quokka – pronounced “ku-walk-ah” – are basically little marsupials that look like giant rats).  Once we were exhausted it was to hop on the boat and headed home … 

Ok, so I wanted the Cartman/ South Park version but this is a family friendly blog and Mr. Cartman has a potty mouth.

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28 Days Later

For the record this is not a review of the Movie “28 Days Later”. If it was it would go something like this: What a stupid horrid movie, don’t see it. Even the “Hugh Grant effect” (you know of forgetting what a stupid bloke they are because of an endearing British accent) could save this film and it’s zombie-like-mutant-disease-ridden plot. Also, if you were looking for a film review of “28 Days” here’s my 2 cents (inclusive of Aussie exchange rate): Once again another stupid Sandra Bullock movie. Yes I’ll acknowledge that she was good in Blind Side but every other role she plays I swear she looks like Fiefel the mouses’s love interest in the 1980’s An American Tale “film” franchise.

Onto what this entry is really about – we’ve officially been here 28 days – which I believe makes living in Perth a habit (although I’m still trying to get the hang of it). To celebrate this milestone here are 28 divided by 2 things I’ve learned so far living here.

*Drum Roll*

  1. Perth is the most remote city in the world (also for those calling me – it’s 13 hours ahead of CST)
  2. I can get almost everywhere I need to (Ikea) by some form of public transportation (bus, train, or ferry)
  3. If you get on the correct bus it will take you exactly where you are intending to go
  4. If you get on the incorrect bus you will have to walk 1 km to the movie theatre
  5. McDonald’s is Macas; Burger King is Hungry Jacks; KFC is still disgusting (unless you’re talking to Rob)
  6. Don’t be fooled by anything labeled as Mexican food – it should really be called Mexican’t (unless you fancy a nice pita burrito)
  7. Never assume someone is homeless because they aren’t wearing shoes – people here just don’t wear shoes
  8. People also don’t like wearing clothing. If your bum isn’t hanging out of your shorts they are too long; if your dress if longer than a tube top than it’s not short enough.
  9. Cheese is the correct colour here (meaning the colour of the animal’s milk – although we have yet to locate a Velveeta cow herd)
  10. Most people ask if I’m Canadian before asking American
  11. Don’t ask the child seated near you at a match who they are “rooting” for.  Root/ rooting means “having sex with”. That is also a good time to shrug your shoulders and mention it must be a part of your Canadian background …
  12. Footy is awesome – it’s like a tackle-basketball-soccer-keep the ball away from <insert name of youngest sibling>
  13. If you’ve wondered where Law & Order has been disappearing to, Australia has been siphoning episodes to create 24 hour series coveraged
  14. I look like an idiot every time I open my mouth to exclaim “what a beautiful day!!!” because that’s what it’s always like here

Dentist! and Lobsters!

I love, love, love Little Shop of Horrors (the movie – you know the 1986 movie, based on the off-broadway musical, based off the 1960 film).  What not to love, a pre-honey I shrunk the kids Rick Moranis, Steve Martin (fact: LSOH is the only film in which Steve Martin was a brunette) and *drum roll* – it’s a musical! So please watch the following clip to get in the mood for today’s story.

I scheduled a whole slew of appointments before the move, not that I don’t trust Australian medical professionals – it’s just that it’s recommended based on our 10 week move check list (that had to be completed in 5 weeks – but who’s keeping track).  One of my appointments was with the dentist who decided I should get my wisdom tooth pulled – like the next day.  Now I know you’re wondering and yes, I was genetically blessed by inheriting my father’s lack of wisdom (teeth) and have had only one.

The day of my appointment “Ob” kindly drove me to the oral surgeon for my extraction.  The Dr. man said that it should be pretty easy.  All I cared about was receiving a lot of drugs – I had seen the Brittany episode of Glee and was sort of hoping for my own music video – although my dance moves would look more like an episode of Barney and Friends.  They put me under and what seemed like 6 seconds later they were moving me into a wheelchair to recovery.  The following interactions were recounted to me later by “Ob”.

Me (to the nurses): (slurring I’m sure) “um, can you maybe turn my wisdom tooth into an ornament – like for my tree?”

Nurse: “No”

And my classiness continued:

Ob: “hey honey, they say you can’t have caffeine”

Me: ” that doesn’t mean Diet Coke”

Ob: “yes, that’s exactly what it means”

Nurse: “yup, no Diet Coke”

Me: (giving the nurse the bird)

“Ob” got me safely home and provided me a frosty in which I attempted to consume (‘er, drop every spoonful on me).  A few hours later, in true Becca fashion I was back to my regular self and made a fantastical Lobster(gram) dinner.

seriously, no diet coke?

lobster time!

making new friends

Book Review: Incendiary – Chris Cleave writes beautifully, but apparently felt compelled to ruin this books profound thoughts with a 20% of unnecessary crap.

Ode To My Hairstylist

I am very good at making large decisions quickly – things like applying for/ accepting a job or flying out of the country with 36 hours notice. It’s the small decisions that paralyze me worse than being confronted with a math problem.  Case and point – when Back to the Future was being shown at the theater for it’s 25th anniversary it took me no less than 12 emails and texts to “Ob” in deciding which seats to reserve – either seats 1 & 2 in row 3 or seats 3 & 4 in row 2.  I was literally trying to analyze optimum viewing angles for each seating option for $7 tickets to a movie we’ve seen eleventy billion times.

In case you were wondering how this fits into my hair and who styles it … here it is …

As we are preparing for this Perth move “Ob” has an increasingly growing binder including but not limited to legal documents and contracts and worksheets to relocate, pay taxes, obtain visas, air and ground shipments, selling of the house, selling of our stuff, int’l banking and much much more.  He sends me daily status updates on where we are with our 10 week checklist (which has been crammed into 5 weeks) and I quickly and gladly complete my tasks.   With all of this hanging over our heads I’m freaking out about one thing …

How the heck am I going to get my hair done!?!?!?

I’m sure that they have hair stylists in Australia – but seriously, no one can replace my wonderful Alyssa (I’m not going to hide her identity in this blog in case you would like to go to her because she is fantastic).  When I moved to Kansas City eight years ago I was sans stylist.  I needed a hair cut so badly and wandered around until I walked into a random salon and fell into her chair.  Poor Alyssa got the bad end of the deal as nine months earlier my hair had been dyed black after loosing a bet – then as it had been growing out I tried home highlights which just turned my roots orange leaving the rest still black and then I gave up and my regular color began to appear.  I looked slightly like rainbow bright …

Since then I have followed her loyally and she became a running partner too – joining in all the painful Saturday long runs, many marathons and halves to boot.

Whereas “Ob” “appreciates” my loyalty to ms Alyssa he’s beginning to catch onto my return to the states travel plans that appear to slightly be revolved around hair appointments …

Book update – didn’t finish Unbroken yet because I was busy getting married.  Will catch up soon.

It Takes a Village – the Wallpaper Death March

If you’re reading this you’re probably slightly aware of some home remodeling/ redecorating that is going.  It’s turning out to be my January theme.  It may appear to be quite a bit of work – well, it is – however I haven’t been taking it on solo (okay I was going to make a Star Wars joke and say “Hans Solo” instead of on solo – but realized I’m not really a Star Wars fan).  There has been quite the cast of characters parading through my home that have lent a helpful hand.  There is also a newly formed support group for “husbands of wives who have deserted them to help Becca remodel”.  I hear it’s well attended and is planning a gathering during the next UFC fight.  I am very appreciative for this help as the fiance is out of the country suffering hot summer temperatures in Australia (still).

For the most part things are going quite smoothly, it’s just that the To Do list is very long.  Wait, things were going quite smoothly until wallpaper removal entered the picture.  The first room to be removed was the dining room.  “Ob” handed me an expensive spray bottle of gooey blue gel labeled “awesome wall paper removal gel” from Home Depot.  Not only did it hurt to spray because it was so thick – it also did not work.  Well, it worked, it’s just that a free spray bottle of water worked better – a lot better.  I spent a good evening with the following routine spray, scrape, curse, repeat.  In the end, I got it done, and began to strongly dislike the previous home owners.

The next room to tackle was the upstairs hall bathroom.  I figured this would be easier since it was a smaller space and the wall paper was uglier.  It turns out my “uglier the paper the easier to remove” theory could not have been more wrong.  On a Friday night I had some gal pals over for a stripping night.  The theme of the night was why the husbands lent them to me – I just didn’t explain to them that it was stripping wallpaper.  We started spraying and scraping and laughing in the bathroom – for like 5 minutes.  We quickly found that this stupid bathroom had not one but TWO layers or wall paper … oh, and the bottom layer was actually installed directly on the drywall.  We spent a collective 7 1/2 hours trying to rid the room of it’s hideous green ivy with weird miniature purple berries and by the end it looked like the bathroom had been attacked with screwdrivers from the characters of Lord of the Flies – at the end of the book, not how they were at the beginning of the book.

The next evening two more dear friends came to help with another green ivy with weird flora and fauna.  They brought an iron to attempt to steam it off.  This was working quite successfully – except the cord was not very long.  During my hunt for an extension cord I was very surprised (and slightly annoyed) to find that an actual steamer resides is in this house.  With much joy my friends quickly removed the border.  It was with this excitement that brought a renewed focus on the bathroom.  Fully refreshed (after a night at the Pinewood Derby) “Igi” and I started the removal process once again … only to find out that the steamer still didn’t really help (unless giving be a blistering burn is considered help) in this horrid situation.  We kept picking at the pieces of the wallpaper until 4:00 AM when we decided to call it a night.  A few hours later we awoke and kept removing – begrudgingly.  In the end the bathroom took a collective 25 hours to remove enough wallpaper to an acceptable level for a hired individual to paste and mud it.  I hate that room and the previous owners and their horrid taste in many different wallpapers.

Resolution Update: finished reading “Exact Replica …”.  I wouldn’t recommend it – unless you are interested in reading 156 pages of a woman’s memoir about giving birth to a still born child that could have been adequately covered in 5 pages.

serenity now!