Musings of a mute

It's funny the simple things we can take for granted, and don't realise how important they are to us until we have to go without them.

For me, this time around, I lost my voice. Well actually, it was kind of taken from me in an operation which I have been needing for a while...not only did they take out the pseudo cyst which was preventing my singing from improving and making my voice weary (highly undesirable for someone who wants to sing and speak for a living) but a large quantity of my savings and the ability to communicate was also taken.

I had mentally prepared myself for the 3 days silence I had to endure as part of the recovery, my friends and family were in the know. I was going to build a fort of silence in my apartment but had Christmas shopping to do. I did not prepare myself for how much it would affect my livelihood. Talking and making noise is one of the things I'm best at. I'm that person who has banter with the barista, talks to old ladies on the tram, and always apologises if I bump someone on the street. My usual witty comments don't have as much effect when written down and read 2 mins after they should have been made!

I now know how babies feel when they want so many things but can't communicate it. But unlike the babies, I couldn't cry as loud as I could to get it. Being powerless and fragile is so much harder when you can't even cry about it properly. 

I tried though. In my usual form, in public. (I have this habit of having colossal dramatic meltdowns worse than any American Idol finalist in public)

Yes, Southbank and Southern Cross station got to witness yours truly almost having an annuerism trying to silent cry. There was snotty, mascara and saliva streaked me with a constipation face and the inability to sigh shaking fists and going as red as the lipstick halfway down my chin trying to get home after throwing myself in the deep end and going to an event that wasn't really mute-friendly.

I can laugh about it now (silently) and I hope you can too, but at the time the idea of a polar bear dying was funnier than what I was going through.

I have been fortunate enough to encounter many kind souls who were really patient with my notepad and whiteboard scribbles, some were caught really off guard and wouldn't speak or whispered. Some spoke in broken English as if I couldn't understand. They looked as ridiculous as I did pointing and flapping and giving thumbs up. Several of my friends recieved blunt txt messages when they absent mindedly called me to see how I was going....

One lady got really grumpy at me in the pool changing room for putting my bags near hers. I just looked at her. When she came back from changing I handed her a solem note "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too" Boy she felt bad. 

I haven't spoken yet. I tried to do a sneaky hum before but my chords don't know what to do. I was going to ask them to put in extra robo-chords so I can communicate on the frequencies only dogs can hear. Who knows..My first words are going to be to one of my best friends when I get back to New Zealand in a few hours.

I haven't seen her for a year, so I guess I'll be speechless.

Jj

Resilience through the Rain- don't let your dreams be dampened!

Living in foreign countries and all the dance and gymnastics training has taught me resilience, however this week I found myself teetering in tantrum territory more than once.

Riding a bicycle as transport has it's perks- no parking boundaries, a chance to be fit in the open air and explore whilst getting from A(partment) to B(icyle destination of choice)
However in Melbourne with it's weather having as much predictability as what is actually in a chicken nugget, keeping warm/cool/dry/alive can be difficult.

En route when the weather be crazy I actually consider searching for a place to dig a bunker and wait for emergency services.That and I've also wondered if I have cycled through some sort of apocalyptic porthole where every 2km is a different season.

This week, my nerves were tested as I was caught in a downpour that even ducks would try to dodge. On two separate days. I knew I shouldn't have played "I miss the rain down in Africa" on repeat!
Initially it was fun, like being in a Ricky Martin music video. 

Then it got to the rain coming from all directions like it did for Forrest Gump in Vietnam. Could not see, could not feel my feet, and could not think how I was going to get through my massive day that required me to be riding dry for a large portion of it. Upon arriving at my meeting, the puddle at my feet and temper swelled. The only thing that stopped me from having a conniption was the voice in my head saying "don't let this dampen your spirits"
No pun intended; I was dripping not damp.

Trivial times like these can send us lucky first-world dwellers into a flurry of furore. Running out of toilet paper, plastic forks breaking in your take away salad, and getting rained on aren't as bad as some of the things other people in the world go through daily, but our incubated controlled environment allows us to forget. 

So, the thought that there were many people far worse off than me, and thanks to hair dryers, hand dryers and a fair amount of tissues, I was able to absorb away the anger.

The American Psychological Association suggests  "10 Ways to Build Resilience"

1. maintaining good relationships with close family members, friends and others;
2. to avoid seeing crises or stressful events as unbearable problems;
3. to accept circumstances that cannot be changed;
4. to develop realistic goals and move towards them;
5. to take decisive actions in adverse situations;
6. to look for opportunities of self-discovery after a struggle with loss;
7. developing self-confidence;
8. to keep a long-term perspective and consider the stressful event in a broader context;
9. to maintain a hopeful outlook, expecting good things and visualizing what is wished;
10. to take care of one's mind and body, exercising regularly, paying attention to one's own needs and feelings.

I smiled when I realised in this certain situation, it was a good reason to have two coffees- I was fufilling step 5. May have over done it somewhat when the caffeine left me more wired that the scrapings of singlet-festival-nappy-faketan-wearing-oopsie look at my muscles-my shirt just fell off people who were loitering around after Sereosonic. 

But anyways, the tantrums I managed to turn to twitches made me realise I really need to invent a gazebo to attach to my bike. Also to remember that rain is a good thing- at least it will make sure our glasses stay half full.

And when your glass is half full you are always hydrated enough to bounce back.

Jj

Night-Noodle Markets. How we all sucked

What is long, wet, and drips down your chin?
Noodles!
The Melbourne Night Noodle Market is now over, and if you missed out, this blog is going to have you slapping your thigh in frustration and hopefully leave your mouth watering with the sensation of chilli. And lime. And cider and icecream.




How do you drown a Hipster?

In the mainstream. 

I'm not sure if there were many authentic hipsters there (but really, classifying an authentic hipster is about as easy as counting the shag in a shag-pile bathmat) but I realised how lucky I am to live in such a hive of a city with many a different buzz..... and from the look of the people there; a whole lot 'a honey. It was like being at a music festival, people were sitting around drinking, laughing, wearing flowing dresses, hats and boss boots. It was a photo-bomber's fantasy as there were selfies and hashtags flying around every group we passed, and a nut-allergists' nightmare with all the satay chicken skewers, chicken cashew and kung pao shrimp.

The Danes have a phrase "madglad" (pronounced "mell glell") which means food happy, or happy for food. That was us. It was everyone. The atmosphere was scented with people getting to know each other better and feeling that frisky buzz summer brings. The heated evening air stirred with the heat coming from the various woks and steam baskets, simmered smiles amongst the chili-infused chats. What's more the atmospheric lanterns and fairy lights made it feel like it was out of a movie rather than a park by the Yarra. 

I met some fantastic people who's banter was as good as the pork buns and were prawn-cracker-crack-up hilarious. What's more they joined in the "I've eaten too much chili and have pho and slobber on my chin" dance, because eating a pho, laksa or soup with lots of chili is like a meal, facial and workout in one. You are left full, sweating and have had your face in steam for about 30 mins. Makes a great reason to find more drinks and consume them like a monkey. (note the high elbow and thumb wrap)





Sometimes, in our fast paced- no carbs after five- no cider on a school night- no sitting on the ground and not abiding by the 10-second-rule world; we need Noodles. Whether you are a Mi-goreng, Maggi or My Thai man, these wet long stringy things remind us that it is ok to suck. 

Suck up your noodles I mean.