Observations

Observations from beside the hospital bed #4

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Let me start by saying this is NOT about my husband. It’s about behaviour I have witnessed in other people over the past two days.

When a cardiologist performs an angiogram and then gives a diagnosis that a patient’s condition is very serious, and he has 90% blockage in the main coronary artery, you should probably believe them, especially if neither of you have any medical training or experience.

When they tell you that you need a six-way bypass, you shouldn’t google the patient’s condition, find an alternative treatment that isn’t available in your country because it’s highly experimental, and try to tell the doctor that he wants that treatment instead.

When the doctor returns with a Professor of Cardiology for reinforcement, you shouldn’t try to tell the Professor that he is wrong.

When you do not just one, but all, of these things, the people who witness what you say and do are going to decide that you are a very arrogant and very special kind of stupid.

Driving home.

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Silver misty moonlight mood-light,
dark silhouettes of drowsy gums,
their trunks briefly illuminated, 
ghostly, striking majestic poses,
eerie in the passing light.

A young kangaroo, eager for the
fresh, bright grass on the roadside,
staring as the intruder rushes by, 
then resumes his evening feast
alone, in the dark, with 
nothing but the soft breeze
and the whimsical moon
for company.

Commuting.

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Many people spend 45 minutes or more in the car travelling to and from work each day. My lot in life is not much different to theirs in that regard.

However, while they sit in traffic jams or take alternate routes to avoid them, my trip is far less stressful.

Ten minutes after leaving school, I leave the suburbs, the traffic lights and the traffic behind me. The outskirts of town fade into a patchwork of farmland. Cows graze in paddocks beside the road or walk lazily to the dairies where they will be milked for the second time today.
Trees along the roadside become more dense along the farm boundaries, which then give way to natural Australian bushland where graceful gum trees and bright yellow wattle trees congregate in silent beauty. It’s not unusual to see kangaroos or koalas here, especially in the early morning or at night.
The bush opens again into farmland, but the road is still lined with trees that were never cleared when the farms were established. The sun shines through them, giving them a warm amber glow.
I smile, reflecting on the fact that not many people have a drive to work that is as beautiful as mine.

Jetsetting #7

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9.45pm LA time.
This is it. I’m on the plane and contemplating my second-last flight for this holiday.
This is my flight back to Australia.

I’m feeling quite heartbroken. I don’t want the magic to end.
I don’t want to go home.
I don’t want to go back to routine, to getting up for work, to teaching classes and grading essays and attending staff meetings.
That all seems so far away. So long ago.

But how do I tell my husband that? He’s sitting right beside me and I know he has seen the tears but he hasn’t asked or said anything.
He’s keen to get home. He’s had enough of travelling for now.

Not me.

Something within me has changed over these past four weeks. I can’t define what it is that has changed, but I do know I have left a few large chunks of my heart behind.
Before we set out I knew that I would love Canada – I already did – but I wasn’t sure how I would feel about the USA.
I can say quite confidently now that while my love for Canada is stronger than ever, I do love the USA, and definitely want to visit again. Almost every place we visited captured my imagination and my heart in some way.
I might skip Chicago next time, though.

Hard Rock Cafe

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There are any number of places to eat along Hollywood Blvd.
We went into one place that looked great after looking at the menu outside, but we couldn’t stay there because the music was so loud I couldn’t stand it.

We quickly chose to go to the Hard Rock Cafe partly because it’s iconic, partly because we know the food is good, and partly because every time I see the sign, Carole King tells me to.

Our experience there wasn’t quite as outstanding as it was at Hard Rock Niagara Falls, but it was still pretty darned good. Delicious food, fantastic music, and good, quick service.

Aces.

Hollywood Blvd #3

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There are many buskers and street performers working the blocks closest to the Chinese Theatre.
Don’t be fooled into thinking it’s free entertainment.
It’s really not.

Some of them are really quite pushy and slightly deceptive – they will offer something like a CD and say all you need to do is like their Facebook page, but then they want to be tipped and insist on at least ten dollars.
Others offer photographs with celebrity lookalikes or costumed characters. These were not anywhere near as pushy and were happy with one or two dollars each for a photo opportunity.

The worst one I encountered was dressed as a space princess with pink hair, who practically ran up to me and asked for a hug. She was trying to hug me before I could say no.
Whoa! Lady! Out of my personal space, please. Totally out of line.
I managed to take a couple of steps back and say, “Sorry, I don’t do hugs!” and almost ran away. Ugh.
That was really awkward.