Boringtown

I decided the other day that my hair was thirsty, and it was time to give it a bit of a nutrient fix.  I found a bazillion 'homeade hair masks' with all kinds of ingredients from egg yolks to yogurt to rainbow sprinkles.  Ok, I made the sprinkles part up-but it wasn't too far off of some options.

I gave it a go, and instantly started having flashbacks to being 7 years old, swimming in the Raymond outdoor pool when all my cousins and sisters' hair would turn green in the chlorine!

 

 Here's the concoction I used: 

1 avocado

1/2 c of honey

1 egg yolk

2 TB of olive oil

Sadly, my hair didn't come out like the girl in the Pantene commercials, but maybe it was a little softer and more voluminous than before?

What's in a NAME?

When I was originally dreaming up titles for my blog, I was thinking that I wanted to have a deep and meaningful title.  I would joke around about the compulsion to title them with some ridiculous pun (see each one of my monthly posts!), and wanted to dream up something I thought was funny.  


MEASLEY-BEEK.  What the hell does that mean?  I remember being sad about changing my name when I got married 3 years ago, and tossed up the option of some sort of bastardized hybrid mash up we could both have instead.  A fifty/fifty split, a yin and a yang.  I jokingly came up with M-B, and further screwed around with the idea of the same silly name on my blog.  Well, it STUCK!  People loved it, and it was getting continual laughs when I'd throw it out there as a joke of a suggestion.


Today, once again, a friend reiterated that that is a funny name and would suit my blog.  Her exact words were "it's a comedy blog, the current title just doesn't suit it...it's not YOU".  What a great compliment that at least ONE person finds me funny, besides my sister cousins Becca, Helen or Amy, who pretty much laugh when I sneeze (ok maybe sneezing IS funny if you knew me as a 5 year old...but that is a story for another day...Lindsay Butler!).  


The change over sort of puts the pressure on me to keep things light hearted, and to get my humor across such a one dimensional medium, no?  Oh well...here goes nothing...

Uniformity

The last 2 countries that I have lived in, Wales and Australia, are crazy about their uniforms.  I thought that it was just for school aged kids, which, let me be clear do NOT look like this:

Not that that is a particularly bad thing, but let's just say, brown and yellow, mid-calved dresses, with socks and chunky black business shoes leave a little to be desired.  On the whole however, I have really come around to accepting and agreeing with the concept behind uniforms.  I mean, I sell health insurance and we have a uniform!

I was in full support however, until I was sent out to get a few 'bits and pieces' for my upcoming nursing clinical in November.

First item on the list: navy or white nursing polo

Not bad.

Second item: navy business pants

Given my size this has proven the most difficult, especially since it is a MUST that they are long pants and not any of the other options ("culottes", skirt).  When you see item #3, this will all makes sense.

Third item: black, lace up, non-slip "school shoes".  Otherwise known as the "Zellers special, all black reffing shoe complete with perspiration holes".  I'm going to call them "character building shoes".

Check out these rippers:

I thought the baby dog's would soften the blow.

These kicks are apparently "all the rage" according to the sales associate, which I find hard to believe, but in any case I guess the translation is 'selling like hotcakes' in the nursing world.  Who knows, maybe I will be "cool".  Plus, they are made of kangaroo leather, which has 4 times the strength of cow hide.  I left the shop with one SWEET pair of shoes AND a fun fact.  What a great day.

As for the nursing shoe, they are a particularly abominable breed of hideous.  When I was scouring the web for any other, potentially less ugly options I stumbled upon these gems.  I guess it could be worse...

Need a chuckle?

Someone posted this link on facebook and I have been laughing every since!  It's called Awkward Family Photos  (mom and dad, you need to click on the link to get to the website).  People write in and submit their pictures, and whoever writes the commentary cracks me right up!  It gets funnier as you go through.  Here is a little taste of some of the GOLD on that site:

So many funny ones!!!!

Home "Improvements"

True to form, it's time for a post when I have an exam tomorrow.  So here I am.  Hey, I need a study break here everyone so relax.  I can see my mom tense up, but maybe it's just conditioning from high school when I told her that studying "just jumbled up the things I already know" hahaha.  Needless to say, she didn't buy it.  This post is to put on a few pictures of the table that I refurbed.

Before

After

I also made this table runner thingy.

I think that's it for the photos. I hate adding photos on this thing...anyone have any tips so that it doesn't add the photos at the beginning of the post every time?!?  ARGH!

"Don't Make A Fuss, Just Get On The Bus" (you probably won't enjoy this post unless your name is Gary Meek, or you are German)

As I have mentioned before, I have a whole bunch of half-written blog entries just sitting in my drafts box, and I think it's time to put an end to this procrastination.  I was reading through my previous post before publishing it, and I was struck by a type of "vanagon fever".  I had promised that I would unearth a fraction of the enigmatic family that I hail from, so: here. we. GO!


Volkswagen, *sigh*.  Volkswagen might as well have been the 6th child in our family.  Maybe like some sort of a mystical sibling that everyone knows oh so well, and is yet embarrassed of, all at the same time.  'It' or 'Vinnie' as I will affectionately refer to, partook in all of the family vacations, and stood as an obstacle if it didn't want to take us there, or was having a bad day.  Bad day might be an understatement when you consider 'fig. A' below...


I first came to know the Volks as a teenager.  We quickly cultivated a love/hate relationship as these wheels were a source of my independence and freedom, but an independence that was shackled to humility.  In my own mind there are vivid pictures of Jettas, Passatts, Foxes, Golfs, Rabbits, and the infamous Vanagon (Westfalia).  I think we have had multiples of almost every single model except the most normal looking one: the Golf.  That being said, we drove that thing until the death.  I remember when the interior fabric on the roof was sagging down onto our heads, and the rear-view mirror fell off the windshield...but we just swatted that fabric off our 80's/90's hairstyles and held up the rear-view airborne mode if we wanted to switch lanes.  There was no way we were watching that baby retire.   

Let me introduce you to our fleet (or at least a few of our faves):

Affectionately known as "Sandy" or "the Nug" (short for the golden nugget).  It was touch and go with her for a few years, but luckily Gare was able to resurrect her back to life every time. 

This is a kind photo of our beloved Golf.  Unfortunately she didn't look quite this good...but not far off.  She was navy blue, and was born in 1984.  If I remember correctly she had a steady run of about 10+ years with us, and costed a mere $13/month to insure.  What a kick in the teeth, she was worth way more than that!

The Vanagon (1 of 7 that I can remember. In no particular order).  This orange beaut did some corn time in its early years.

This little gem should have been called 'double trouble' since we had 2 of these twinners goin at the same time.  Maybe we should have referred to them as "Toaster on Wheels A & B".  Just need to make sure everyone knows how AMAZING the heaters were in these babies.  Nothing like rollin deep in -30 degree centigrade winters in comfort.  (for those of you who cannot read the sarcasm, I apologize for the ambiguity of this medium of communication).

The "Roadie" or the "Roadster".  This people mover had the pleasure of taking Al and his band to their gig.  Or at least 3/4's of the way.  This is "Fig. A" I was referring to above.  I will pay respects as to how he died further down, if you are still reading and haven't raced over to Ebay to get your own.

The collectors edition "Chocolate Log" (collectors cuz I can see the snout of another VDUB at 10 o'clock).

Corn Van part deux.

"EuroVision": this stunner was shipped over to europe in '92-'93 for our year abroad.  She motored us through 9 countries.  To be fair, our van had tinted windows so it was much sexier.  Plus, in Europe this van looks normal, so at least we had that on our side!

Alright, I think you get the point.  Needless to say that this '6th child' fit in our pack like a charm.  I have many memories:

Learning to drive: Once you learn to maneuver this beast around, driving a "regular" car felt like a SmartCar.  I remember doing the "hand over hand" motion on a HUGE steering wheel.

Van Food.  Driving around europe on a budget, we used to talk about how much we HATED van food.  It literally was its own food group.  A giant plastic wheel with pretzels, nuts etc., and juice boxes (apple or orange-take your pick).

"Fig. A"

I distinctly remember opening my email while I was at university, and my mom had attached this photo.  Here's the story I wrote as I passed it on to all my close friends/fam who knew our family's relationship with VW's. (please note the size of the other cars in front to respect just how MASSIVE that fire was!).

"So, my little brother's band had their first gig about 2 hours away so of course helen volunteer's the meek family VW vanagon for the trip.  It's roomy, spacious and good on gas...really good...well, they get going and things are good.  The van is packed with 7 people, the band members, my mom, a kids parents and their instruments.  They start going up a hill about 1 hour out of town and the van slows down, so slow that it won't go at all...this doesn't really alarm the 2 meeks in the van because, hell we have lived with old vehicles...sometimes they just need a little break up those big hills.  Anyway, Helen decides to pull over to give the 'ol gal a breather, and took the opportunity to stretch their legs.  While doing so, they look over and find that the van is on fire!!!  The kids parents are freaking out and yelling, GET AWAY FROM THE VAN, and all the kids are sent barrelling into the ditch.  Then my mom yells, GET BACK TO THE VAN AND GET YOUR INSTRUMENTS!!!!  *of course helen would say that!  Anyway, 20 minutes passes and the fire continues.  A semi driver stops to try and extinguish it but with no luck!  Then my mom remembers she forgot her purse, so she runs back Rambo style and gets it.  As the blaze continues, the cops and the fire dept show up and CLOSE the entire highway for an hour and a half!  By this time the van is a litteral BALL OF FIRE!  The news stations all came and interviewed some people, and showed the van engulfed in flames with the door falling off....Classic meek family...and they STILL won't get a new car!"

I found this sticker and laughed out loud!  The veritable "kick me" sign of the automobile world.  We spent a lot of our time in Europe on the autobahn getting honked at.  The van doesn't go fast at the best of times, let alone when a ferrari or bmw was whizzing by at 95 mph!!  Here are a few others I found:

Throughout my 'research' to collect the photos above, I have stumbled upon some real innovation.  We’re not just talking a few racer stripes, and some shiney new rims.  Here are some creative ways people have tried to make their vanagons just that little bit cooler.

And my personal favorite.  The ULTIMATE pimp to his ride:

Alright, I think that I have pretty much summed up everything you could want or need to know about the Volkswagen family.  The truth of the matter is that despite the frustration, embarrassment and breakdowns, we have had a ton of fun over the years.  Plus, if we drove boring, brand new Lexus' around town, where would the character building be in that!?!  hahahahah.  I think each and every one of us have a little soft spot for the ol Volks, and here is a little shoutout to Gare for the MANY, MANY, MANY hours he has spent scouting out the sale, and fixing up those damn things!  We'll all continue to give you crap about them though, don't worry.

PS: This last bit is for my dad.  I think I may have found your heaven:

Also, I know you are still upset about the fireball that was your grey van...but maybe there's still hope.  Afterall, this one's still cruisin the strip?

You're so 2000 and Late...(the irony that once written, sat in the drafts box...posting anyway)

AND LATE IS RIGHT!  What in the sam hell happened to time!  A true definition to getting old when the words "i never have time to do all the things I wanna do" come flying out of my before I can stop them.  I mean, I don't even have kids yet!  What is going to happen way down the track when I am underslept and cleaning mashed peas from out of the carpet?  Then will I have time?

Seriously though.  I remember when I was younger and time practically crawled by.  For example a simple family vacation felt like we could be driving for days on end, almost a week even.  Oh wait....we probably were!  That is probably the worst example of time I could have pulled out of the ol memory files, as our family drove around the North American continent as if were on some crazy version of the Amazing Race.  No complaints on the travelling side, plenty on the 34+ hours in "toaster on wheels".  Not only were we subject to long, gruelling hours (with limited temperature control I might add)...but we had to do so with our dignity at stake!  That being said, cuttin corners and cruisin around in a 5 times resurrected 1989 VW Vanagon was probably they way we funded "said" vacations.  They were awesome, and they were aplenty, so I will put this topic aside for another day, but I promise to enlighten you all some other time.  This will also give my dad some time to brace himself as I am probably going to have to watch my back for insulting one of his babies already in this short introduction.  Brace yourself dad.

Anzac Day

Anzac Day is a public holiday here, commemorating the day the Aussie's first landed on Gallipoli, Turkey in 1915.  It is sort of like a "Rememberance Day" part deux, if you will.  Being a foreigner, I wasn't sure how I'd feel on this day.  Patriotic?  Out of place?  Aside from the obvious of having a day off work, the result is, I have grown to really, really love this holiday.  Last year, we were on a holiday to Airlie Beach, Great Barrier Reef during Anzac Day.  We had slept through the dawn service (this year it was at 4:28am...youch!), but made it to the little township for the parade/march.  Let's just say, I couldn't stop crying.  I chalked it up to being female, and not really having much control over my emotions on certain days of the month.  However, being 2 for 2 after this year, got me thinking even deeper about where this was all coming from.  Good thing it's always bright here, so I can throw on the old "sunnies" for cover.

The parade consists of every battalion past and present that has served or continues to serve their country.  There are marching, pipe and drum bands sprinkled through every once in a while, but mostly it is just quiet-with people clapping.  They clap the whole time, for the entire parade.  It's a harrowing feeling in the air, while you are literally looking in the faces of these old men and women who saw everything first hand.  They march with such pride and honour.  It feels like they are almost replaying parts of history.  In learning about the history of the nursing profession at university, and studying the evolution of the female role due to the women's liberation movement-it was particularly special to see the women marching along as they were the catalysts of the time, opening the gates to such simple things we all take for granted.  This march goes on for 2 hours!  Each person proudly wearing their medals, and if a person has passed away, a family member can march on their behalf, keeping their legacy going.

This post was started on the actual day (April 25^th)...however I am crap at actually getting it finished, and the pictures etc, and well I am a perfectionist.  So, I’m trying to be better about that so bear with.

Since Anzac day, was the killing of Osama Bin Laden.  It has sort of not made me not want to post this  or anything political about war.  I don’t want to open up any cans of worms, but I suppose was, is and will be an inevitable part of the world.  One day, it would be really great if we could look back and see how many times history repeats itself.  So many of us get to live in a place where fighting is not close to our doorstep and that is a true blessing.  Peace is a beautiful thing...

Fruit...Not Our Strong Suit.

I was choppin up a pineapple just now and damn near collected half a litre of juice throughout the whole process.  So sweet, so tangy, so juicy.  This is the kind of deliciousness that never gets old.  (Shhh, triple chocolate torte you'll have your time in the sun).  Queensland, I gotta hand it to you.  You know how to grow a dang good piece of fruit.  These "little beauts" can be snactched up for only $2.20 at that!!  Let's be frank, since going 'gluten-free' (that's a post for another day), there isn't a lot that gets me excited in the supermarket these days.  Everywhere you look, wheat rears its ugly head.  Even the air is polluted with the sweet smell of freshly baked bread.  I digress. 


Since moving to this luscious, produce producing state, I have staged the revolution on the "I HATE FRUIT" rant, of old.  I know when you read that, you just gasped and said aloud "i love fruit! eat it all the time!".  I know this because ever since I have adopted this mantra, I don't STOP hearing people say this to me as if I'm some kind of hideous beast.  I guess my problem may have been that I was too picky.  For example, I was unaware that a mango was not as hard as a golf ball, and as green as a lime with a little sprinkling of red near one end.  I also didn't realize that they actually taste like your taste buds are having a dance off.    I also didn't realize that they could be purchased for under $5.  Sidenote: My boss has a mango tree and she actually uttered something along the lines of "having so many mangoes they are like pests, I run over about half a dozen of them just driving out of my driveway".  I knew there wouldn't be a dry eye in the house after that anecdote.  Aussies can be a spoiled ppl at times, hahah.

So how did this obscene mentality arise?  Well, when I was younger, I didn't like the inconsistency of "pickin out a good one" and the "ya never know what you're going to get".  Turns out the former 2 statements are most likely the product of growing up in sub-zero temperatures (please refer to a previous post where I talk about the Canadian affinity with the "christmas orange").  What can I say, we have great people, great mountains, make a HELL of a jar of maple syrup, but fruit...it's not our strong suit (okanagan you get the wild card).

This is part of the reason I have always liked vegetables.  Can you ever think of a time when you ate a bite of a tomato, and thought "that tasted TERRIBLE!".  Well, if the answer was yes, then there's the support for the fruit argument again.  It sneaks up on you even when you don't even know it!  (has anyone ever solved that stupid debate on which group the blessed tomato belongs?)

I guess you could call me produce shallow, but but to sum it up, I don't want to go through the hassle of peeling a cranium sized navel orange only to take my first chomp and it tastes like butt.

Alrighty then, I have successfully wasted 1/2 an hour writing about my taste buds, and why I am a supermarket snob...all while successfully procrastinated on my studying.  There is A LOT more where this came from as I am a mere semester deep on about 6. hehehe, saddle up everyone! 

Update on L.I.F.E.

This is going to be a post chalk full of updates on what we've been up to, so I'll just put the disclaimer on now that it will probably not be witty, interesting or at least have a visual appeal to distract you into feeling entertained.  It has been ages since I last wrote, and it has been a pretty busy last couple of weeks so here goes.  I'll take you back:


The week of March 7-11 was a big one in the Beasley household.  I lost both my boys on Tuesday, as Archie was finally at the top of the list to donate his balls to charity, and Chris was off to Brisbane for firefighting school.  I was busy too, as I had my area manager and sales coach in town from head office to watch me doing, whatever it is that I do at work.  Yes, believe it or not, I do more than drink coffee and make jokes.  How much more, well...the jury may be out on that one (Ellie, you got my back!?)


Chris will be in Brisbane for the next 4 months, which is 522.45 km as the crow flies southward.  If you are crazy enough to want to drive, the Bruce Highway will supposedly take you there taking around 7h 41m according to google.  The reason I say crazy enough to drive, is that this sorry excuse for a highway is pretty much 1 lane each direction the whole way.  Of course it is not just cars you're sharing the road with, you better factor in all kinds of heavy vehicles and trucks bearing loads WAY too optimistic for the width they're allocated, as well as wild beast-including kangaroo, wombat, and the infamous cane toad.  I think I should stop talking about 'said' road trip as it weighs heavy on my soul, but just be aware should you be bullied along the highway until your 1995 Ford Fiesta and roof rack end up in the ditch, don't say I didn't warn you.  (that is a story for another day, apparently I had a little too much attitude behind the wheel?).  


Anyway, Chris is really enjoying being down there and learning a ton.  The firefighters here in Queensland are para-military, so he is required to march, put up the flags and spit shine his boots on a daily basis.  Aside from the military bit which has some getting used to, he is learning a lot and is already practicing some hands on skills like driving the firetrucks around town, and gettin some hose time.  Whoa, something about that doesn't sound right.  I hope he comes back to me!  hahaha.  From the sounds of things, he is also working hard on his ironing skills, I guess meaning that he has developed some.  You see, we don't iron in this house, point blank.  Unlike France, and some of the other iron-obsessed countries I've lived in, it just doesn't have the same feel to me-and, well, I just don't like doing it.  Sure I can appreciate a crisp, well pressed business shirt, but I had volleyball teammates telling me they iron their COTTON T-SHIRTS!!!  They, and anyone else who irons items like that, along with pajamas, underwear and the like, have ENTIRELY too much time on their hands, or they are OCD.  And also, I'll say it, it's going unnoticed to these eyeballs.  All that said, seeing is believing and I guess the military doesn't go for a loose thread, much less the look of a business shirt with the "crackled" look.  Rosemary (Chris' mom) would be proud, as she is the ironing queen.  I'm sure Chris is channelling her technique when he's hittin the ironing board.


Man, I must REEEEEAAAAALLLY not want to work on my homework since I have managed 2 lengthy paragraphs about road conditions and ironing.  What can I say, if you want to get your house cleaned, lawn mowed, or even develop a new hobby, take a university course.  It does wonders kickstarting all the other jobs you've been procrastinating on.  Florence Nightingale and 'Nursing History 11146', you're bustin my chops!!  


In light of school, I have been able to transfer (ONCE AND FOR ALL) my prior learning (yes, all 5.5 years of it) over here and have received some credit so that I can get on with actually completing a nursing degree.  Being on the nine year plan never felt so good...until you come out the other end with a nursing degree instead of a PhD in Medicine.  Oh well, I've lived AND learned so I am taking the delay in stride and getting back into the swing of things.  I am taking 2 courses at the moment and really enjoying being a student-despite the procrastination.  I love learning, and feeling like my brain isn't "dumbing down" on a day to day basis.  I do NOT love essay writing though.  I used to be a good writer, and over the past 5 years, and countless email and facebook type messages have been cramping my style.  Not sure how my profs are going to react with the ?!? ...  -- :) of my everyday writing, so it might be a harsh reality after assignment 1.  I know you are all sitting on the edge of your chairs so there will be an update available. ;) 


At the end of our crazy week I came down with a chest infection and a fever.  What am I, 7 years old?  I haven't had a fever in SO many years, and if it was mustering up all its strength to hit me while I was down, it certainly did the trick.  I was literally horizontal for 5 days.  It was terrible.  With nobody to take care of me and bring me chicken noodle soup, Archie and I were left to recuperate on our own.  To make matters worse, I had been to see the naturopath earlier on in the week, and she discovered that I have a gluten intolerance.  SO, not only was I sick, but I was freakin STARVING OVER HERE!!!  The comfort foods to fill your belly, peanut butter and honey sandwich, spaghetti, even the cornetto's I bought...all have gluten! :(  In any case, it was a rough few days but I pulled through and am better for it.  Or at least that's what I'm going to go with.


Archie.  What can I say other than he is onward and upward.  He was with me all week, and is 98% an AMAZING pet.  We love him.  However, he has springs in his paws, and takes it upon himself to jump our fence and go trouncing around the neighborhood in search of more interesting things, while we are at work.  If we're home, no problems.  We go out, he becomes the canine version of MJ.  Friday, March 11th I get a call from the RSPCA.  I don't really think twice about it until I get home, and Archie is nowhere to be found.  The story was that he went down the street and was frantically jumping someone else's gate to play with their 2 dogs, and the owner called the pound.  They came around to do an inspection and weren't terribly happy with one side of our fence so they took Archie back. :(  


Originally they mentioned that when we solidify that few meters of fence, we can have him back.  But Chris informed me that he can jump ALL of our fences and we just cannot and will not be replacing all of our beautiful fencing, full stop.  So, they are going to give him to another more suitable home, and we are going to carry on fostering other dogs (probably in 2's so they have a buddy).  I love Archie, but we tried dog training, dog appeasing pheromones, toys, bones, and we had sort of exhausted all our avenues so it is for the best.  He will make some young family very happy, but we are sorry to see him go especially since he was my little sidekick while Chris is gone.  :*(


That is pretty much us for right now.  Chris will be back once a month, and will graduate on July 1st (OH CANADA!!).  I am working away, and trying to keep the house/pool in working order.  It's hard work!!!  


N'Importe Quoi:
-the news from EVERY other country gets an appearance on Aussie television, along with Degrassi reruns.
-I'm still baffled with the people here that get around with NO shoes, NO shirts (or bikini tops), and NO clothes on their babies.  Sometimes I feel like the odd woman out...weird!!
-Does anybody actually know what "cross-check" on a flight is?  I always wonder that...
-Krispey Kreme donuts here are NOT hot upon purchase.  Donuts are also at a premium here where people are paying upwards of $3.75 for a chocolate dip!!  Can anyone say HORTY'S?
-I absolutely despise the show "2 1/2 Men", and was relieved that somebody had a breakdown in order for airing to stop.  "Sabrina the Teenage Witch" anybody feeling particularly mentally volatile? come ooooooon.
-you can tell a lot about what kind of a person someone is by what they do on an escalator.  Stand, speedy walk, lean, ride the hand rails...
-writing in italics really makes me feel like I'm talking to ya