On A Year And A Bit of Saying Sure, Why Not?

When we first moved back to Australia eighteen or so months ago I was feeling a bit lost. It was partly the standard dislocation and general weirdness that is a normal part of the repatriation process. But is was also partly something more.

Living in Seoul I legally wasn't allowed to work. So I dabbled in things here and there. I explored on foot and took lots of photos and wrote lots of words. I read and embroidered and did loads of paper craft. I always had projects on the go; I was never bored. And there was never any pressure to get a job, to go to work. My spouse visa wouldn't let me, but more than that people just accepted that as an expat wife my role was focussed on supporting the family and that was as it should be. But then we moved back home and suddenly everyone was always asking - sometimes tentatively, sometimes expectantly - Are you going back to work? 

Let's rewind a little. Before we moved overseas, I worked. Since my first 'proper' job in a bookstore at 16-ish I've worked. I've always wanted independence, I've always wanted to be self sufficient, I've always wanted to do well. Then we moved overseas and I stopped working and at first it was a bit scary, but after a year or so I adjusted and it was ace. It was fun to devote my time to my husband and step-sons, and to the house and the dogs. It was fun to have spare time for crafting and reading and blogging. And I appreciated it for the luxury it was.

But then we moved back home and it felt different. It felt like I should do something more with my time, with my life - and not just because people were telling me I should. I felt it too. I just didn't know what that something was. I knew what I didn't want to do - return to full time corporate work - but I didn't have a clear idea of what I did want to do. I was a bit confused about it all.

Within a few months of landing back in Australia, while all this was just starting to swirl about in my head, I found myself at ProBlogger. It was wonderful and fun and I met so many ace people. It was exciting and motivating, and completely utterly terrifying. I kept having these ridiculous circular conversations with myself that followed one of two themes:

Theme one: There's some things I think I'm pretty good at and I should totally dive in and just do those things, but - what if in reality I completely and utterly suck at those things? Let's face it, I have no f**king idea what I'm doing... 

Theme two: There's some things I think I'm pretty good at, but I'm in the ridiculously lucky position of not needing to make money so why should I feel the need to enter the marketplace, with all the pressure and stress and potential corruption of ideals that it may entail? Why can't I just enjoy life and employ my skills in non money making ways? Isn't ambition just thinly veiled vanity? A desperate need for outside approval? 

As you can imagine, neither were productive lines of thought.

And then Voices of 2014 happened. Some lovely person (I know who you are and I'm so very grateful!) nominated my little blog, and somehow I made it through to the top forty in the personal category. And because of that a few emails came my way - invitations to PR events and sponsor challenges. And I still had no idea what I wanted to do, and those circular arguments were still swirling about in my head, but I just started saying yes. I figured I'd see where things went, see what felt right. I figured I'd cross the river by feeling the stones beneath my feet (thanks for that one, Deng Xiaoping).

So I said yes to some fantastic freebies and to some things I put cold hard cash behind. I said yes to blogger brunches and photography workshops. I finally said yes to a Photoshop class, and a pretty intensive weekend learning all about freelance writing (both worth every penny). I said yes to Facebook groups and Instagram and real life meet-ups.

I thought that maybe saying yes would help me figure out what I wanted to do. And it has. After a year and a bit of saying sure, why not? I'm definitely more certain about a few things.

Firstly, I'm clearer about why I want to make some money. I know that in the grand scheme of things I'll never contribute to the family finances in a meaningful way (I contribute much more in other ways). But I want to have enough cash to pay for a camera lens, or a magazine subscription, or to buy that dress that I really don't need, or to cover the cost of upgrading my flight to Europe (that's what I'm working towards right now!). It might all sound frivolous and silly, but it gives me a strange peace of mind. It means something, to me.

Secondly I'm much clearer about how I want to make money. And it's not through my blog, at least not directly anyway. It's through freelance writing, and photography, and collaboration, and through saying yes to very select opportunities that do come my way thanks to Good Things*.

And I've realised just how much doing things leads to doing other things. I've realised how little actions that may not feel like much at the time can lead to opportunities down the track. Sometimes way down the track.

And all of this has lead to where I'm currently at. I'm writing six posts a month on this blog which was my intention at the start of the year (yay me!); I've been nominated for Voices of 2015 (thank you, whoever you are!); I'm writing for the Threadless blog (I'm working on a post or three for them this weekend, actually); I've hit 24 sales in my Etsy store; and I've just submitted a 4000-ish word article - with photos - for one of my favourite magazines (my first properly paid commission, and the editor loves it! Yippee!). I've also recently submitted a paid-in-kind interview with one of my favourite illustrators for a fabulous little magazine; plus I'm in the midst of organising a trial run as a contributing photographer (yes, a paid position!) for a website I've long enjoyed (really hope I can pull that one off...). Oh, and I'm a finalist in the mobile category at the Head On Photo Festival.

I know that not all of these things will work out (and yes part of me is scared to publish this post in case it all goes to s**t). I know that next month may not be quite as awesome and opportunity filled as this one. I know that I'll have to work hard and stay focussed and keep thinking and planning and pitching if I want to continue writing. But right now it feels like there are some pretty ace things afoot, some pretty ace things indeed!

I still don't really know what the f**k I'm doing (does anyone?), but I reckon I'll keep saying yes for a little while longer.

The Best Thing About Moving Back To Australia

So I should say it's about being closer to my family. But, to be honest, right now it feels like I saw them more when I lived in Seoul. The whole house thing has sucked all my time and all my energy. They've come to visit me (which has been ace), but I haven't been to Melbourne since before xmas, and I'm not going to get there before May. I see photos of my nephews on Instagram and they look so freaking grown up; it happens so quick! Which makes me sad, but not sad enough to book a whirlwind trip to Melbourne (I value my sanity).

I should say that it's about spending more time with the step sons. But when we were in Seoul it was permanent school holidays - sleep ins, slap up breakfasts, pyjamas days, trips to the country and the crazy lion, tigers and bears show. The most stressful thing was making sure there was enough food in the house. And North Korea, sometimes. But now - now it's 6am wake ups and attending school recitals and whole days seemingly spent in the car. Oh, and the reminding - any homework tonight? Have you got a uniform for tomorrow? Do you have a train ticket? Done your viola practice? Aren't you meant to be somewhere else, right now? Sigh. I shouldn't complain, because really it is actually awesome. Just a bit of an adjustment for me to make, and a bit Groundhog Day-ish. (I know, I know - you've all been living that for years, welcome to your world, etc, etc...). 

Anyway. It could be clean air (and it kind of is), and easy access to beautiful, beautiful beaches (and yes, it kind of is), and a mild climate and great restaurants (yep, this). But…no. 

Call me shallow, call me a junk food junkie - but right now Cheezels are the best thing about moving back to Australia. They're so cheesy, so crispy, so salty, so tasty (especially compared to the appallingly bland puffed rice cheese treats you get in Asia). They're my guilty pleasure; my crutch when I'm sleep deprived or cranky, or both.  And just look at how orange they are - orange is happiness, isn't it? 

And if you only eat a mini packet (and share it with the dogs) they're not so bad for your calorie count. (FYI I've also found that a Cruskit topped with aged cheddar works quite well if you want that crispy cheesy hit with a few less chemicals.) 

In between kale smoothies and chia porridge do you have a guilty pleasure? Are you an expat lusting over some kind of junk food you can only get back home?  Do leave me a comment, but I can't promise a reply - I'm off to eat some Cheezels… 

*Many, many Cheezels where harmed during the production of this blog post.

Things I Miss...

There is so much that is awesome about being back in Australia. 

The gorgeous Sydney beaches, the good wine, the nectarines and sweet, sweet corn. How my Mum can just 'pop up' to Sydney for a few days, or how I can head to Melbourne for my sister's super fun 40th without too much trouble. Being able to spend more time with friends and family, and finally meeting some of my virtual friends in the real world (and finding out that they are just as ace off line as on!). So much awesome.

But…there are things I miss, about being overseas and about having a home (we're still living in our 'cosy' serviced apartment and most of our stuff is still in storage somewhere). In no particular order, here are some things I miss right now:

Ferdi and Elfi

The kim chi fries at Vatos

Namdaemun's ribbon shops (but finding this Australian website has eased the pain somewhat)

My scanner (you don't realise how many times a day you scan and email something until you have to walk to Officeworks every time you need to do it)

An internet connection that doesn't drop out every few seconds and can cope with having 15+ tabs open at once 

Mandoo! Soup! Noodles! Soupy Noodles! With Mandoo!

My husband having his own office (right now I'm hearing every word of his midnight conference calls…)

My washi tape stash 

Our books
Watching movies on long haul flights

The cold (I know this sounds crazy - I'm loving the beautiful early summer in Sydney but I'm also strangely missing that sudden drop below zero in Seoul...) 

My tote bag collection (I didn't bring any with me, but I refuse to buy anymore as I have too many…can't wait to break them all out of storage; I miss this one the most)

Not having to worry about my purse / backpack / camera being pinched 

Muji, Uniqlo and all the cheap but good 'Made in Korea' stuff (knits and socks especially)

Having only a short flight between me and two of my favourite cities in the world 

Everything being new and strange and kind of wonderful because of that...

A Little Note About Life Right Now...

You may have noticed things have been a little quiet over here lately, quieter than usual. It's not because I don't have anything to blog about. There's fifteen draft posts sitting here waiting to be finished, asking to be written. 

I want to tell you about the things I've learnt from living overseas, and the things I'm loving about being back in Australia and the things I miss about Korea. And I want to tell you about the ups and downs of being a step mum. And I also really want to give you an update on The Big Project; to show you the progress and let you know how awesome our architect has been through the whole process. 

But, as much as I really want to do all that, it just hasn't been a priority for me right now. And I need to accept that - to acknowledge that that's the choice I'm making, rather than feel frustrated that I haven't hit publish on those draft posts. I'll get to them one day, it's just not today. 

Because today I'm focussed on spending time with the husband before he heads off on another long-ish overseas trip. On setting up the house for the step-sons so it feels like a comfortable place for them, and so that it's easy for them to transition from their Mum's house to ours and back again. I'm focussed on enjoying the sunshine, the unseasonable warmth, and on being active with tennis games and gym visits and trips to the beach. And - let's be honest - I'm also focussed on eating all the things in Sydney. 

I'm also focussed on less fun things like sorting out the gas and water and electricity and wifi and car insurance. And pointlessly fretting over our cash flow. Oh, and the ironing. The endless, mind numbing ironing. 

But it's actually pretty great, this keeping busy with good and mundane real world tasks. Because, to be honest, if I don't keep busy in the real world right now there's a high chance I'll fall into a bit of a hole...

Awhile ago I was chatting to someone who'd done the whole repatriation thing. She'd lived and worked in Europe for a few years. Had a great job, had a great life. And then she moved back home. And she was fine, until one day she found herself sobbing uncontrollably in the supermarket, thinking 'a few months ago I was spending my weekends in France and now I'm stuck in the suburbs of Brisbane figuring out which brand of butter to buy'. (I may be paraphrasing a little, but you get the gist). 

When I'm not busy I'm dislocated. I'm a bit lost (especially without my dogs). I don't know my routine yet, my direction. People keep asking me if I'm working, what I'm doing. And - long term - I'm not really sure how to answer that. So I'm going to keep soaking up the sunshine and hitting the gym and hanging out with the husband and step-sons. I'm going to keep focussing on what's happening in front of me, right now, for a little while longer. Bear with me.

Death by Doxie : A Dog's Journey

One of the things about the move I was dreading the most was shipping the dogs off. I imagined handing them over to a stranger, seeing their distress, Elfi screaming, me crying. But as it turned out it wasn't so bad. 

I paid a specialist to look after all the paperwork and transportation (Sohee from Chung Wha Animal Hospital in Itaewon) and she was professional and caring and lovely. She organised all the tests required, sorted out the freight costs and booked them into quarantine (she even made sure they were in a pen together). On the day of their flight she picked them up early, leaving them on their leads rather than in their crates, to reduce their stress a bit. She even bought along her own (very well trained) dog which meant Ferdi and Elfi were so focussed on meeting another dog they barely noticed us saying goodbye. So, whilst I still shed a tear or two, it wasn't nearly as traumatic as I thought it would be.

It was a bit expensive (actually, the whole Australian quarantine process is expensive!) but having a third party handle everything was worth every penny - both for peace of mind and for taking some of the emotional heat out of the situation. 

A few other things that helped - a week or so before their flight I got their crates ready and clean and set them up in the lounge room, just so they could get used to them. I also put a toy and some old clothes in there (that's my old pyjama pants you can see next to Ferdi, featuring a dachshund print of course!). And when I gave them treats I'd throw them into the crate. Elfi would run in, grab the treat and run straight back out again, nervous critter that she is. But Ferdi quite likes to have his own little house, so he hung out in his crate a bit. Though he looked sad, as always. 

Anyway, the dogs are now safely in quarantine. I've been told from numerous sources that the level of care there is phenomenal, so that's reassuring. We'll see them soon enough, but in the meantime we do miss them quite a lot...

The First Few Days : Random Thoughts on Moving 'Home'

After a frustrating last day in Seoul (it's a long story), we touched down in Sydney early Sunday morning. Not for a fleeting visit, for good. (Maybe.) We are home. 

Here are some things I've been thinking : 

- The first few days after a big move suck because you remember all the things you need right now (like health care details and internet banking passwords and so much more) that are currently in a box on a boat and won't be seen for a few months yet...I keep waking up at 3am in a mild panic thinking things like 'Oh no! My business cards are still in my filing cabinet (which is now on a boat) and ProBlogger is next week! Ughhh!'. (Thank goodness for moo.com's rush orders!).

- There is a massive gap in the market for corporate approved, pet friendly accommodation. Right now our dogs are in quarantine so they couldn't be with us anyway, but they'll be out in under a month and they'll have to go to a boarding kennel until The Big Project is finished. The company my husband works for is covering most of our temporary accommodation, which is really very awesome, but it does mean we have to stay with an approved provider. And not a single one of those are pet friendly. 

- Spring has only just started and already half of Sydney seems to have misplaced their wardrobe. (File this one under 'reverse culture shock'.) 

- It's rather helpful to be speaking the same language as the waiters and shop assistants and service people, but I really, really don't like being able to understand what all the people around me in cafes and restaurants and trains are saying. 

- Just because you speak the same language doesn't mean things will suddenly be easy to sort out. Paperwork and red tape and ridiculous rules are universal. This is easy to forget. 

- Related - during all the mad packing and organising in Seoul I kept thinking 'once I get to Sydney I'll be able to relax, for a few days at least'. Um, no. Not at all. It has been a ridiculously busy few days. Everything still needs to be done, and new things are constantly cropping up. Hoping the weekend brings a bit of breathing space...

- People aren't so friendly when you're all the same. In Seoul, whenever one of our young neighbours got in the lift with us they'd smile, giggle nervously, wave, say 'hi', ask where we were from. We stood out in Seoul, and people were drawn to that. I think there's also something about the community minded collectivist culture that you find across Asia, something that makes daily connections and polite hellos the norm. Also, in the expat world you kind of revert back to primary school friendship making techniques (basically 'hi, you look nice and we're in the same general vicinity, wanna play?'). You kind of forget that the real world isn't like that; that people tend to freak out when you randomly smile at them. 

- Sydney doesn't know the meaning of cold (and I'm okay with that). 

- Australian produce - dear lord I love you. I've basically spent every spare moment of the last few days wandering the supermarket aisles hugging fresh herbs and shedding tears over the perfect corn cob. And don't get me started on the dairy cabinet (ricotta! feta! cottage cheese!). 

- Everyone welcomes you home, but to be honest it doesn't feel like home, yet. 

The best description I can come up with for the past few days? Surreal. And exciting. 

*************

ps. Thank you all so much for the Sydney advice in response to my last post! So much helpful info!

Three More Emotions of Repatriation

Emotion 7 - Getting Stuff Done 

It starts getting near the pointy end, near to the actual moving day, and you get down to business. You are focussed. You are a machine. An email sending, form filling, hotel booking machine. You make categorised, prioritised lists of things you need to do. And then you do them. You organise import permits and insurance. You cancel your cable, find a home for your fish. You book storage units and flights and serviced apartments. 

You don't ponder the pros and cons, you don't mope about this or that, you just get stuff done. You don't waste time with things you'd normally enjoy, like preparing delicious meals, you just eat whatever's easy and you get stuff done. You barely sleep, you stay off Twitter / Facebook / Instagram / Candy Crush for hours at a time (okay, maybe it was just the one hour), you don't blog or play with Photoshop. You just get stuff done. 

Emotion 8 - Delirium / Exhaustion 

You see all those ticks on your to do list and you think 'I am so freaking organised! I am the freaking QUEEN of getting stuff done!'. And then, seeing as you are a queen and all, you ask the dogs to curtsey before you. And you wonder if someone should make you a crown. And you giggle to yourself, a little hysterically. And you think - perhaps it's time for bed...

And you wake up the next morning and your eyes are scratchy and your throat is sore and your glands are swollen. And lots of people tell you to take it easy, take a rest. So you do. You sleep in, and you spend a day reading, and listening to the radio, and mainlining vitamin C and zinc. You have a soothing soup for lunch and later you play sous chef to your husband while he cooks up a tasty dinner. The next day you're refreshed and ready to take it all on again. 

Emotion 9 - The Grab Bag 

You don't really feel an emotion, you feel all the emotions. Not quite at once but in rapid, ever changing succession. Little things set you off. Frustration, triumph, annoyance, elation, depression, fear, stress, excitement, confidence, happiness, tranquility...all wash over you a few times a day. 

You book a beach holiday with the dogs (something you haven't been able to do in Korea) and you feel extravagantly happy. You plan to see your family just before xmas (something you haven't been able to do while living overseas) and you feel overwhelming excitement. 

But then you book a boarding kennel for the dogs, it's where they'll live while you're in the serviced apartment, and you feel indescribably sad (and strangely afraid). You go to the vets to get a lump tested on one of the dogs, and you can't help but shed a tear or two while waiting for the results. You think 'What if it's bad? What will we do?'. After ten minutes they say they're 90% sure it's not bad, and you are so ridiculously relieved and thankful. 

Later, you look at the husband's planner and say 'Oh - you're going to Hong Kong? I'll come too...' but then your voice trails off when you realise by then Hong Kong will be eight hours away, not three. You're reminded that things are going to change; things are going to be very different, very soon. You find out a bill hasn't been paid, an email has bounced back, your credit card has been cancelled - and you feel annoyance and frustration out of all proportion to the situation. 

You realise perhaps you are not quite as refreshed and ready as you thought. So you go to the gym, and then do some stuff. You edit a bunch of photos, and then do some stuff. You have lunch with a friend, and then do some stuff. You realise that there's no mad race, that you are actually pretty organised, that things will fall in to place. That it's about balance, and that if you look after yourself you'll do a better job of everything. And that you need to take the time to savour the days you have left in this crazy city.

*************

If you're wondering what the first six emotions of repatriation are you can read all about them here. You may want to have a stiff drink handy. 

And yes, for the quibblers, I understand some of these aren't technically 'emotions'. But I don't care.

The Six Emotions of Repatriation* (so far)

Emotion 1 - Excitement 

Finally! You get confirmation that the move back home (that's been a possibly, maybe for the past six months) is definite, it's happening! And although the move is still many months away you feel joy, excitement, elation. 'I'm going home!' you think. Back to good restaurants and shoes that fit me and English speakers and lamb, delicious lamb and my family, my sister and my nephews, and well priced delicious wine and trips to the beach with the dogs and friends, old and new, and clean air and, and, and! You think 'life is going to be easy again!'. 

Emotion 2 - Fear 

You think 'life is going to be easy again.' You realise that you love living abroad, being a stranger. You love the day to day challenges; the living in blissful ignorance, not speaking English for days on end. You love the apartment you've been living in for 3+ years; it feels like home. 

On a trip back to Australia you walk down Pitt Street Mall in Sydney, trying to really imagine living in this city again, and all you can think is that it feels like a small country town. Quiet, isolated, remote. And you are not special there. You think 'is this the end of adventure? Is my life just going to be a comfortable beige blur from now on?'. 

And then you think about the move a bit more and you realise that you can't use visa restrictions and language barriers as an excuse any more, people are going to expect you to get out there and do something with your life. Which scares you. 

And then there's the uncertainty, the questions. Where can I find 4 dollar soupy noodles in Sydney? (I'm pretty sure the answer is - nowhere). How will we manage 'co-parenting' when everyone's living in the same city, the same country? Will I go to parent-teacher night? How will I get my fix of cheap, cute stationery? How will I cope with shop assistants talking to me, in English? Does the husband really expect me to do the ironing? You fear the big stuff - becoming stagnant; changing roles and relationships - and you fear the little stuff. 

Emotion 3 - Regret 

You realise the move really is on and time is running out, and a strange thing happens. All those things that were driving you completely crazy about Korea (or insert-your-expat-country-name-here), those things that had you weeping with frustration, they disappear. Suddenly all you notice is how breathtakingly pretty the city looks in Spring, how much you love kim chi, how great the shopping is. You notice how comfortable you feel in your neighbourhood - even though you'll never look like a local, you feel kind of like a local. And even though logically you know all the (very valid) reasons why you made the decision to move back home, emotionally you feel a sort of soft regret. 

And you think of all those weekend trips to places that are (relatively) short hops away (Kyoto, Suzhou, to name two) that you never took. The road trips, the city excursions, the hikes. The craft and cooking classes. The blog posts you never wrote...time is running out. 

Emotion 4 - Panic 

As the move looms closer, you start to panic. Panic at the thought of all that stuff (oh, so much stuff!) that needs to be moved across oceans. Bouts of de-cluttering follow. With a slightly manic glint in your eye, you throw out whole boxes of scrap paper, a stack of DVDs you'll never watch again and a broken faux-Meccano roller coaster. You try to get the step-sons enthused about the process, but instead the youngest one just holds up a single piece of crumpled paper and asks 'soooo...do you think I should keep this?'. 

Then you start thinking about the actual move, and panic turns to stress. Yes there's the packing and unpacking, but there's also the disconnecting and connecting (phone, internet, gas, water, DTV...). And what do you do with the goldfish? And the pot plants? Then there's the transporting of dachshunds; the finding of doctors and dentists and waxers. And vets. Oh, and you need to find somewhere to live, for a little while, until you can move in to what will be your Home (yes, with a capital 'H'). And you realise when it comes to quality short term accommodation Sydney is the worst. And pet friendly? No way. 

Emotion 5 - Depression 

So you realise that for the first few months after the move you're probably going to be living in a soulless apartment that's over your budget. And the dogs, your dogs, will be spending time in quarantine and maybe then living at a boarding kennel. And everything will feel, will be, temporary. Again. 

And then something little happens, just an everyday frustration, and it's enough to push you over the edge. And you realise you may have just yelled at some poor customer service person, or maybe you're sitting at your computer with tears in your eyes and your not quite sure why. You realise it's because you don't actually deal very well with uncertainty, and everything, everything is uncertain right now. 

Time for a stroll in the sunshine, a good meal, a good book, a glass of wine. Some pom pom making. Time for a deep breath. 

Emotion 6 - Acceptance 

You remember all that management training about circle of influence / circle of concern. You realise you cannot control everything, and that actually that's part of what you've loved about living overseas. You write a list and start working on what you can, and let go of what you can't. You start cramming in all those city excursions and blog posts. You make plans for next year, for when you are Home; things you want to achieve that could not have been possible whilst you were living abroad. You get excited about the possibilities again. And you realise that no, it's not the end of adventure. That it's the start of something new. And just like the past 6 years it will be both wonderful and mundane. 

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*Is it just me or is repatriation a really ugly word? It kind of sounds like a medical procedure or some sort of 'enhanced interrogation' technique...

Guest Posting : Tips For Creative Expats on Red Parka Diaries

I'm super excited to have a guest post up on Red Parka Diaries. It's all about how to stay creative and inspired when you're living out of a suitcase or just far from home. 

I've long admired Jennifer's Instagrams. Seeing her happy hounds on the beach in Tasmania always makes me want to spend a weekend in Hobart, immersing myself in Tassie's natural beauty and handcrafts. And her blog is just as lovely too! So click on over and have a read, if you like!

Some Big News...

...(drum roll please)...we're moving back to Sydney! Come July 1 we will once again be calling Australia home!

We've been in Seoul for three years now, and we've been away from Australia for about 6 years all up. It's been an amazing, eye-opening, wonderfully awesome (and yes, at times wonderfully frustrating) experience that I will always, always treasure. But the time has come to say goodbye to Asia.

At the moment I'm in that strange limbo phase where my day-to-day life is still in Seoul, but half my head is living in Sydney. And where I'm falling in love with Seoul all over again, because I know I can't take it for granted any more. All those little Korean things that were driving me batty a month ago? They now make me smile fondly, wistfully. 

I'm also in the phase where thinking about all the packing and organising and moving makes me break out in a nervous sweat. The logistics of moving your house/life across oceans can feel a little overwhelming at times. Especially when - just to add another layer of difficulty - we are about to start a fairly major renovation on our house in Sydney. The move is months away but already I'm waking up every morning with a to do list running through my head...

But! Let's forget about all those minor details for a moment and focus on the exciting awesomeness that is everything Australia has to offer - blue skies, stars at night, beaches, family, dog friendly everything, the step sons, craft get togethers, cheese, great restaurants, op shops, bike rides, clean air, opportunity...

Hello Tokyo!

In Korea (and across large swathes of Asia) we've just had the annual autumn holiday known as Chuseok (Moon Festival in China).  It's a three day event celebrating a good harvest and involving rituals of ancestor worship.  It's one of the big holidays, and Seoul is pretty much deserted as Seoul-ites head back to their home villages for family feasting.  The husband and I took the opportunity to head to Tokyo for three days (one of my favourite cities in the world and it's only just over two hours away!).

I've been to Tokyo a few times but I haven't really visited since actually living in Asia, so it was interesting to compare my experiences.  The first time I went to Tokyo I was in a constant state of wonder - a great heaving noisy flashy city filled with all manner of inscrutable, foreign and just plain Japanese things.  I loved the way the people were so polite and ordered and community minded, and yet at the same time so individual and extreme.  

On this trip I guess there wasn't the same shock of the different, I live in a city where I don't understand most of what goes on around me (signage, language, customs) every day.  And Tokyo these days isn't looking as bright and flashy as it once did - it's a bit worn around the edges from years or economic stagnation and the neon signs have been switched off in the wake of the Fukushima disaster.  But there is still something beguiling about Tokyo, about Japan, and by day three we were already planning our return.

Some things:

- Aside from his super-Spidey-sense of picking great restaurants, my husband is not the right person for me to be in Tokyo with.  I am already planning a solo trip, one where I can spend a whole day in Tokyu Hands (he lasted all of 40 seconds) or Ito-ya if I want to.

- Dachshunds are big in Japan. Not big as in fat, big as in popular, to the extent that they even have special dachshund sized dog costumes which fit their long body and short legs perfectly (I may or may not have bought something...stay tuned!)

- You can not eat a bad meal in Tokyo.  It doesn't matter what you have a hankering for, you will find it in Tokyo and it will most likely be the best darn [insert food name here] you've ever tasted.  One of our favourite meals of the weekend was at an American Chinese restaurant in Shinjuku.  So good.

- Living in a densely populated, crowded city does not necessarily mean a stroll down the city sidewalk has to end in bruises/broken ribs/missing eyes.  The only time I got bumped into was when I stupidly wasn't paying attention (hello Hong Kong and Seoul, I'm looking at you!).

- These days I automatically start looking at the city I'm visiting and ask 'would I live here?', even when there's absolutely no likelihood that we will ever one day actually live there.  The answer, Tokyo, is yes.

- I am increasingly obsessed with the black and white setting on my trusty Canon.  

Fish!

You looking at me?  (it had to be said...ok, maybe it didn't...)

Right, so, where to start?  One of the benefits of being the kind of expats we are is that the company pays our rent, and they pay it at a level that's meant to mean you live in a place that's roughly equivalent to what you might live in if you where still in your home country.  This is especially useful in places like Hong Kong, where the rent is about five to six times that of Australia, so if we were self funded we would have literally been living in a shoe box.  Anyway, what this means is our apartment in Seoul is pretty darn awesome.

What's this got to do with fish, you ask?  Well, part of the awesomeness of our apartment is that we have a bit of a rooftop garden, which includes a pond/water feature type thing.  Which got me all excited because it meant I could put fish in the pond!  Which I did!  But then winter came and building management informed us that we had to drain our pond so the pipes wouldn't burst which meant the fish were (briefly) homeless.  But now they live happily in a nice big tank in my office.  

They are quite friendly fish (even though the one up there looks a little grumpy).  They make amusing noises and they follow me from one end of the tank to the other when I walk past them. As much as I loved watching them roaming 'free' in the pond, I kind of like having them as companions in my work room.  Do you like fish?  Do you have something or someone keeping you company while you work?

Hello there!

Hello!  I'm still here!  Are you still here?  Things have been a little bit quite of late, life does tend to get in the way of blogging sometimes.  

There's been lots of good things going on: playing with paper, hanging out with the step-sons (and waving a sad goodbye to their long Australian-summer school holidays), and then we went skiing for a few days at Konjiam which was kind of amazing because it is literally about 60 minutes drive from our apartment!  It's a fairly small resort but so close, and the snow was great and the food delicious. And the slopes are pretty much open all night - quite the novelty watching car loads of people turn up to start skiing just as we are finishing dinner!  The photo above was taken from the warm comfort of our hotel room, while we sat mesmerized watching the very talented Korean snowboarders, who were just warming up at 11pm.  I love living in Korea!

And there's been a few not-so-good things going on too, mainly my Dad's been a bit sick which makes me feel very far away.  It would be so nice to visit him right now, or at least just be around Melbourne-town so I could help my sister and Raph with everything.  I don't love living in Korea. Sigh.

Anyway, there is a giveaway afoot!  And a road trip to boot!  And things to make!  And photos to take!  And I seem to have come over all Play School, must mean it's time to go...

Finding friends abroad

[Gorgeous doggy photo from edart on Etsy]

Have a quick look at any ex-pat blog and chances are sooner or later you'll find a post on friendship. And this is because finding a friend when you are far from home can be a little tricky.

Sure, it's very easy to find acquaintances, probably easier than if you were at home.  There are always people, maybe a little bit like you, who are desperate to have a 'normal' conversation, in their own language.  Or there are people who are looking for a travel buddy to accompany them on their latest adventure to a market on the other side of town.  Or there are people looking for the latest sucker kind-hearted individual to join their committee for the local international kindergarten, or to help them raise funds for injured indigenous cats.

But to find a friend, someone with similar likes and passions and wants as you, now that's tricky. And that's kind of okay with me.  I have people who mean a lot to me back in Australia, and I always try to make the time to call them or email them or visit them.  I have a bunch of wonderful, inspiring, supportive on--line buddies who I really treasure (and hope to meet in real life one day!). And I have my wonderful husband and my wonderful family, who both drive me crazy and keep me sane.  

Besides, I have always leaned towards the life of the hermit, with time to myself and a small circle of close friends.  I can safely say that on the friends abroad front, my expectations are rather low and that's okay.

So it comes as a pleasant surprise to think I may have met someone in Seoul who could one day possibly be a friend!  Gah!  Exciting!  (Excuse me while I giggle like a school girl...).  

Like me, she is a tiny bit anti-social, in that she likes to avoid the small-town gossipy mess that some ex-pat spouse communities can degenerate in to.  She also has a dog that means the world to her.  And like me, one of her biggest concerns if the whole North-South Korea thing goes haywire is how to get her furry loved one to safety.  To the point where she actually rang the Australian Embassy in Seoul about it.  And the quarantine department in Canberra.  Which makes for an hilarious crazy-dog lady story over dinner, but I think it's also kind of cool too.

She likes to craft and to paint.  And, importantly, she likes the same white wine as me.

And when, last night after dinner, I told her that I was in the process of trying to loose weight, she said, in an honest matter-of-fact kind of way: 'you've only got a few more kilos to go'.  Nothing fawning, or passive aggressive, or snarky.  Just a simple, yep, well, good on you, kind of response. What a lovely, lovely thing!

Anyway, I must not get too carried away, I don't want to jinx it!  

Being an expat isn't all sunshine and lollipops...

After a week or so in Australia, I landed back in Seoul last night and I was so excited to be home. Happy to be seeing my hounds and staying in one place for two whole months (bliss!).  Happy to have the chance to start seriously crossing things of my to do list, to buy fresh flowers without worrying that it was a waste because we'll be gone next week anyway, and to cook and craft and blog with no hassle again.

And then my Mum (god love her) tweeted me a link to this surprisingly beautiful song about xmas day by comedian Tim Minchin.  In the last bit he thinks about his daughter being all grown up, and that maybe she'll end up 9000 miles away from home on xmas day, and that the whole family will be thinking of her and waiting for her.  Have a listen...

And of course it brought a tear (or ten) to my eye.  And it made me suddenly nostalgic for a sunny xmas day with strawberries and chaos and driving all over the place and kids and dogs and maybe far too much bubbly.

And I guess that kind of sums up the whole expat thing - at both ends of the flight you are happy to be home and sad to be leaving.

[Brooch and earrings at the top from Canny belle on Etsy.  You can find them here.]