A sore Sahara

I picked Sahara up after we landed on Tuesday evening, and she was one happy little puppy. So happy, she was completely over-excited. So over-excited, she hurt herself. I hoped it was a minor bit of soreness, but she got progressively worse yesterday, and when she crawled into bed with me this morning (much to C-Mac's disgust) I knew there was something wrong.

I took her to the vet this morning - no need to make appointments, I find, the entire staff know me by first name basis at least at the veterinary clinic - and she saw her second favorite vet, Jenny, who gave her a thorough examination. Luckily, she ruled out what I was dreaded - having ruptured her other anterial cruciate - and put it down to being too silly for her own good, and not knowing when enough fun is enough. Relief! Sahara had some pain relief injections, and has a week-long dose of anti-inflammatorys which will hopefully give her some comfort.

And as a treat for being such a good girl (and not attempting to maul any staff/members of the public etc) I put the roof down on the way home, and let Sahara have the breeze in her whiskers all the way home.

Now, to hide the whirlwinds of hair all over the car before Cameron gets home...

Noosa

C-Mac & I had a fabulous time in Noosa, QLD. We flew up on the Friday morning, leaving behind a hideously cold (4c!) Melbourne to the gorgeous sunshine of, well, the Sunshine Coast. Cameron was foolish enough to wear grey, and thus received an arm-ful of mascara on the take-off from Melbourne. One would have thought he'd learn from our last trip...

Once we arrived, we dropped our bags at the apartment and made our way down the hill (Oh! What a hill. I spent the majority of the trip bemoaning said hill, and our arduous trips up and down it) to Hastings Street, the main shopping strip in Noosa. After a quick look around (Kookai! Witchery! Belgian Waffle shops!) we joined Cameron's mother for a bottle of wine at the Surf Club deck, overlooking the beach. Once we were nicely squiffy, we headed back to the hotel for a freshen up, before we had dinner at a gorgeous place called Bisro C, where I devoured the most amazing fish and chips I've ever tasted.

Much of the rest of the trip is a blur of eating, drinking, sunbaking and climbing that vile hill. I got my sweaty, sun-cream covered hands on a great book - The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society - which I devoured from cover to cover on the beach whilst roasting myself. I made Cam purchase My Sisters Keeper, by Jodie Picoult, as it's one of my favorite novels and would love to see the movie adaption of it soon.

This is the view from our room. We had this pool and spa entirely to ourselves, which came in handy as we were allowed to take alcohol in the spa with us as the Pool Bar had recently closed. Once the temperatures dropped at night time, we soon clambered into the spa and had a sauna to warm up, as I only discovered the heater in the apartment on the final night.

On our final night, we went to the most amazingly beautiful (and extraordinarily expensive) restaraunt, Sails, which was right on the beachfront. We got there early to watch the sun set, and had the entire place to ourselves as we sipped champagne and watched the sun go down. After dusk, fire twirlers came out onto the sand, and as we enjoyed an amazing meal we watched them dance around with their fire. It was a gorgeous night, and a beautiful way to end our holiday.

Cam and I frolicking in the spa, complete with terrible low-cost alcohol and trashy magazines. It was lovely being able to relax completely, do as we pleased and not have cats sitting on us at all times.

Our final night at Sails.

We took a nice walk at sunset over the weekend to the National Park, and back to Noosa along the beach. The views were amazing, and Cam and I had plenty of laughs along the way.

Treating ourselves after our walk with Bellini's and Cosmopolitans @ Roccoco, where there was an extremely talented guy playing piano and guitar for some entertaining older gentlemen/English tourists.

Another hill! Me pretending to stop and admire the scenery when, in reality, I just needed a breather.

A cloudly Noosa beach sunset.

Sahara

Someone got a little stuck trying on Mr Darcy's new neck rug.
Could she look more like a seal?

Things That Make Me Happy

- - M i k a - -

Motivation from strange places.

After trudging around the park in a pair of slippers and an enormous, oversized jacket of Cams last night, I came home to change into something a little more flattering. Eschewing jeans in favor of a skirt, as I thought I'd go the whole hog in a vague attempt at femininity, I plucked one of my all time favorite pieces of clothing from The Fancy Stuff Draw. (Yes, my draws are coded: Mostly, they're full of articles of clothing that should never be worn in public, such as those in the Comfy/Painting/Horse Riding draw. I also have a small space dedicated to particularly cute things, mostly still with tags attached, that I save for the day I'll go somewhere fancy enough to warrant wearing them. But I digress). As I pulled my black, high wasited 'I Can Wear This Dressed Up Or Dressed Down, And It Always Gives Me A Great Ass' dress over my hips, I realized I couldn't. Pull it over my hips, I mean. My mind started racing. Had I not dried properly as I stepped out the shower, and it was getting stuck on my wet legs? Had it mysteriously shrunk to a third it's normal size in the wash somehow? Or, as it began to dawn on me, was I simply not bloated from being sick and had, in fact, put on a vast amount of weight? Horried, I threw it back into the draw before I could begin dwelling on that possibility, and shoved on an olive satin number instead.

I've known for a while now - read: Since I first met Cam - I've been putting on weight. I put it down to all sorts of things - drinking more over Christmas, eating out, it being too hot to exercise. Recently, though, since I've had Darcy and since Sahara's been confined to indoors 24/7, I've become completely lazy. I get exhausted riding Darcy, and don't walk Phoenix much due to the dark nights and feeling guilty leaving Sahara. Mid winter makes me pig out on potatoes and hot chocolate, and enjoying time with Cam means we cook big breakfasts and even bigger dinners. Not too long ago, I was walking 6-10km a day, and eating nothing more than a bowl of cereal before a light dinner at around 11pm.

Something's got to change - and as of today, I plan on that happening. No more random attacks of junk food due to boredom. More running Phoenix around the park like thing posessed. Less eating double portions as an ode to how suprisingly good my cooking is. More 2 hour long work outs with Darcy.

Today, as I was about to sign in to Blogger and get on my way with my post, but thought I'd check out what had been happening overnight in the world of my blog-roll. I clicked on Pretty In The City's website, and something caught my eye - a sign that read "Having a Fat Day?"

And look where it took me.

And as much as that should scream 'be happy with yourself!', all it's done is make me throw even more of Mika on my iPod and chuck on my running shoes.

Side note: I don't have any scales at home to clarify my weight. I have to invent an excuse to visit the vet surgery and pretend to weigh Phoenix for worming tablets whilst I actually weigh myself.

Weekend.

Although I feel like I haven't left the house in the past week, I've been unable to get a blog up and posted due to a certain slave master threatening me with all sorts of nasty things should I not be recuperating in bed. I had some sort of kidney infection, which turned out to be a 4cm cyst on my ovary going POP! and doing mean things to my innards. Thankfully, I'm feeling a whole lot better today, and would be able to meander on down to see Darcy were it not bucketing down with hail - so instead, I thought I'd do a little research online and post a bit of news.

On Saturday, I was feeling well enough to wrap myself in vast layers of clothing and go with Mum & C-Mac to see the Melbourne Victory soccer team play the visiting Fulham Football Club, which was fantastic. I haven't been a proper game for ages, and although I'm keen to watch Victory play more this season, I had to go for Fulham - who won 3-0. The highlight of the night was managing to elbow several children from my path to get Mark Schwarzer to sign my iPhone cover, along with a young guy from the Victory team, too.



Sunday morning, Cam and I set off for the South Melbourne market, and stuffed ourselves with breakfast before buying up fresh meat and vegies for the week. I often buy food for the rats whilst at markets, as it's easier to buy individual pieces of fruit etc than at the supermarket. The two Brussels sprouts and miniature parsnip didn't even rate on the scales, but the dogs got lucky with half a cow carcass between them for $2. Cam and I also managed to procure some adorable things for our new home.

Afterwards, we headed to the National Gallery, and wandered around giggling at the naked busts admiring the exhibits and acting like our mature, sophisticated selves. We found a lovely big print that would look fantastic over the new fireplace, but other than that, I can't say I was particularly impressed. We're seeing the Dali exhibition at a private function next month, which should be good. I studied him for my final work in high school, and although my delirious nightmares tend to take his surrealist shape and completely terrify me, I love his work.

I've been finalizing my design for my first tattoo - sort of. I've always had three ideas in mind - the letter B in script between my belly button and hip, Sahara's and Phoenix's paw prints up my mid back, or the outline I've planned on for several years and have been too much of a pussy to get; a pegasus flying out from between my shoulder blades. I can't upload the final design, but this is pretty much it (and yes, I realize this is the Tri-Star horse. Just imagine it as an outline, sans background. Pretty, no?)

Disclaimer: I don't like tattoos, particularly. I think they look somewhat horrible on girls, and I would never have one that could be seen unless I wanted it to. My guidelines for getting my pegasus were simply: it must never been seen on my wedding day. Then why mutilate yourself, you ask? For me, it's a sign of strength, bravery, courage and freedom. A reminder, if you will, of the things that I believe in and want to be capable of in myself. Faith? Sure, but in what?. Love? It comes and goes. Strength? If you're mentally and emotionally strong, you can get through anything. It's what's gotten me this far, and hopefully what keeps me going.

Yes, that is correct.

We now officially own our dream home.

This is the view of the beach from our street.

You may now be extremely jealous.

If you like pina colada's...

So, nice and early this morning, my darling boy & I met with the director of the real estate agency we went through to sell his house, and put in an offer for Our Dream House. The REA handling the contract, Jason, is putting forward the offer to the vendor this afternoon, and as the offer expires midnight tomorrow night, we're hoping to hear back relatively soon whether it's been successful. We're both completely wired, and trying not to get excited, as we don't honestly think it will be accepted (the offer we put in is around $60k less than the original price she wanted for the house). But we've got absolutely everything crossed, and I, for one, can barely sit still in anticipation.

I haven't been feeling very well recently, so instead of ride my horse or clean the house or the hundred other things I need to get on, I decided to sit down for a few minutes with a DVD and have a rest. I chose Practical Magic (I'm in a Sandra Bullock mood to get myself ready to see The Proposal - oh, Ryan, I'll be seeing you soon!) and when they started drinking margaritas to Put The Lime In The Coconut, I could barely contain myself. I abso-freakin-lutely love that song, and decided to download it instantly - and as result, have gotten completely side-tracked by downloading more of my favorite songs...and got to thinking. Cam & I were discussing what we would do should we ever be lucky enough to get Our Dream House, and it involves cracking the bottle of Moet we have on ice, and I thought - COCKTAILS! What better way to celebrate than with cocktails?! So, I've been downloading every cocktail or celebratory themed song I can think of - and this is what I have so far. I also seemed to have gotten carried away with tropical themed songs, as the house is barely 100m from the most gorgeous beach and overlooking the bay to the city, and to get in the mood for our honeymoon trip to tropical Noosa.

- If you like Pina Colada's - Barry Manilow
- Tequila - Sublime
- Red Red Wine by UB40
- All Shook Up - Elvis
- Don't Worry, Be Happy - Bob Marley
- Hippy Hippy Shake - The Beatles
- Kokomo - Beach Boys
- Jive Talkin' - Bee Gee's (OK, not specifically cocktail themed, I just heart the song!)
- Copo Cabana - Barry Manilow
- ALl Night Long - Lionel Richie (again, not cocktail themed, but Cam insisted it be on the playlist)
- Gotta Feeling - Black Eyed Peas
- Tub Thumpin' - Chumbawumba


Come on, guys - give me a hand. Any more suggestions for our Fingers Crossed We Buy The House Of Our Dreams playlist?