During my time in melbourne I decided to head back north to the byron shire to attend a week long intensive lomi lomi training. Lomi Lomi is a hawaiian massage technique that involves healing the soul through the body while drawing on the resources of mother nature and God.
Naturally, every single person there was a hippy. All but me.
The training was really good, it involved a lot of respect for your own body, the earth, and hawaiian culture which was interesting. It started out rocky though. We gathered together to pray and then we had to "enter the temple, claiming all that we are." I had no idea what was going on.People walked up to a sliding glass door that led to the living room, and said things like..."I am trevor. I am RAGING BULL! I AM SUN AND MOON! I AM YIN AND YANG. KATUA LO MAHINA SHU RAGA!!!!" When my turn came i said "I am jessie. I am confused. I am here to learn." and I wasnt allowed in. People were screaming about being raging bulls, and I wasnt allowed in! I had a near nervous breakdown because A) I didnt know any of these people and B) I thought the whole thing was weird.
Long story short I made it in eventually and then everyone group hugged me. THis was a really common theme during my week there. We hugged hello, we hugged goodbye, we hugged when we were sad, we hugged when we were happy. We didnt just hug, we group hugged. Group hugs involved deep breathing, rocking or swaying, and occaisionally humming or singing. By the end of the week we all had colds from being in such close proximity to each other and breathing the same air.
At one point there was a rainbow around the sun, and everyone went outside and was freaking out. If you've ever seen the youtube video of that high guy crying about the double rainbow, imagine that but with about 10 people all soberly staring at the sky in awe and gleefully cheering and clapping.
I will say this for the hippies...they are awesome. I dont nessesarily agree with everything they say, do, or eat, BUT they are some of the kindest, most accepting people I have met. The couples didnt act exlusive. The girls weren't possesive bitches, and the guys weren't assholes who treated you like a diseased harlot if you attempted to make conversation with them. A refreshing change. They didnt harbour judgments about religion the way my christian brethren do. I actually had a really good talk with one hippy about Jesus. He said that Jesus was cool and everything but he didnt really know how to handle him. in his own words, "Jesus is just too much for me sometimes. he was really passionate and rebellious, and I just don't understand him." It was nice to have a conversation with someone with a conflicting viewpoint and not have it turn into an argument. So I'll give sound healing and guided meditation a miss, but we can hang out and make some polenta. One thing the hippies do that I LOVE is have drum circles and dance parties. I feel that these two social events should be staples in all societies.
So in conclusion, I need to start giving awaying some lomi lomi massages. If you have a massage table, or access to one, call me and I will lomi lomi you. I need to keep doing it or i get out of practice.
Home
Monday, April 25, 2011
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Melbourne weekend
Just a short story...
Saturday night at about 10:45 Girt, Tegan, and Myself are all collected in the hallway between Girt's bedroom and the bathroom trying to decide where to go when the front door opens and a tall figure stumbles in. We were not expecting company so Girt and Tegan make a B-line for girts room to hide, and I-like an idiot- stand my ground. The figure emerges from around the corner and reveals himself to be an incredibly drunk australian of about 27. He gives me a vacant stare and then heads for the toilet. I step in front of him, demanding to know who he is and what he wants. He looks at me and says, "Its ok, I know Mel." and tries and to push me out of the way. I push him back and then go to Girts room. The girls are both as far from the door as possible, giving each other worried looks. I walk up and say, "do you guys know a Mel?" Then Girt decides to tell me her real name is Melissa and goes to check if she knows the guy. We all approach the bathroom cautiously. He is standing over our toilet, taking the longest pee ever. He lacks the ability to stand up straight, or hold is willy with only one hand, so he is leaning over the toilet with his head resting against the wall. Girt has no idea who he is. He finishes his 15 minute long pee and then tries, with much difficulty, to get himself back into his jeans. He tries to walk further into the house, but all three of us stand our ground this time. One thing you should know while reading this, is I am the shortest one. Girt is about 6ft and Tegan is about 6'1. The guy was about my height and he smelled like deep heat muscle relaxer. I think when he had to face all three of us he realized he was in the wrong house...or decided it wouldn't be worth the trouble to try and stay. So after he leaves we can hear him banging on the door of the next door neighbor screaming for Mel. After some debate we decide to go out and try to get the guy to go away, because if he wanders around the level banging on doors and screaming for Mel, Girt might get in trouble; also he pissed all over the toilet seat and floor and we didnt want to have to touch it. We open our front door to see him passed out on the hall floor. So we painted his nails hot pink and drew a penis on his face in self tanner.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
memories past...Auckland/Akaroa New Zealand.
When I first got to New Zealand I landed in Auckland, and upon arrval, realized it was just a city like everywhere else and made immediate plans to get the hell away. I chose to roadtrip from auckland to Akaroa with a couch surfer I met named Chris. Chris was from Switerzland and was going to Geneva to study Neuro-surgery or some shit and was just in NZ for a few months to perfect his English. He was vegetarian and at one point on the journey said he'd rather starve to death than eat a fish if he was stranded in the middle of the sea. I chose not to believe that I was travelling with someone so stupid, so I pretended he was joking. Chris and I set out on a lovely August morining and ended up in some tiny town that was used to film a few shire scenes from LOTR...I think it was called matamata. The only hostel in matamata was closed when we got there so we decided it was best to sleep in the car in the parking lot of the information center. As we stood at the boot/trunk of the car and tried to figure out how to lower the back seat, a middle aged, red haired man lumbered up to us. After a few moments of chatting he invited us to sleep on his couch. His name was martin. Martin lived with his 80 year old mother. He stayed in the living room (where chris and I were sleeping) watching TV late into the night. At one point, he was watching porn, and his only comment throughout the evening was "nice tits" (this, thankfully, was directed at the actress on TV who was showing her tits, and not at me, accidentally flashing them.) Martin liked to educated me about NZ slang and culture and took pictures of me while I was sleeping.
So chris and I moved on. We slept in the car one night, but it was freezing cold and in the morning when I went to use the toilet, a woman told me I looked like I'd "had a rough night of it." That day, we went on a hike. My swiss friend took off at a light jog and never slowed pace. I had to take frequent rest stops and occaisionally walk backwards up the hill to relieve the burning fire in my calves. We stayed in a hostel near the beach the following night, and in the morning went searching for paua shells, at which time I dropped the rental car keys into the surf and then spent the next several hours phoning the rental car company/key manufacturers to try and sort out a solution. When it seemed like all hope was lost and i would be stuck at a backpacker in the middle of nowhere for weeks, waiting for a car key that would never come, I went back down to the beach to throw things at the seagulls. Lo and behold, one of the first things I randomly grab from the beach is the rental car keys I thought had been swallowed in the sea.
So we went forward. Chris took over the majority of the driving responsibilities because my driving was too fast and I was totally knew to the whole concept of driving on the left. Hours after CHris forced me to switch to passenger so he could drive, he veered suddenly onto the right side of the road and nearly drove straight into another car. My grabbing the wheel and nearly running us off the road was what prevented a terrible head on collision. Weeks later, our final days together approach, and we decide to go out to eat to say goodbye. (We had been living off of cheese, bread, and apples, and for me, the occaisonal can of Tuna.) I ordered soup and chips and couldnt finish my dinner. Chris was very disappointed in my lack of etiquette and told me that its rude to not eat everything on your plate. I didnt really enjoy the lecture so I made up the total lie that in Texas its rude if you everything on the plate because that implies to your host/hostess that they didnt feed you enough. CHris appeared to be mildly intrigued but still utterly convinced he was in the right.
When we arrived in Akaroa we found that the main Tourist attraction was swimming with dolphins. It costs $100 NZD and all they do is give you a dry suit and put you on a boat and drop you in the middle of a dolphin pod. You arent allowed to touch the dolphins, and they dont do tricks. We decided to try it out for ourselves. We rented a kayak and brought rocks to bang on the side of the boat to attract the dolphins curious natures. 2 dolphins approached the boat and when they were about 6 feet away we jumped into the harbor in order to say that we too, had swum with the Hectors Dolphins.
Then chris pissed off my boss and left.
So chris and I moved on. We slept in the car one night, but it was freezing cold and in the morning when I went to use the toilet, a woman told me I looked like I'd "had a rough night of it." That day, we went on a hike. My swiss friend took off at a light jog and never slowed pace. I had to take frequent rest stops and occaisionally walk backwards up the hill to relieve the burning fire in my calves. We stayed in a hostel near the beach the following night, and in the morning went searching for paua shells, at which time I dropped the rental car keys into the surf and then spent the next several hours phoning the rental car company/key manufacturers to try and sort out a solution. When it seemed like all hope was lost and i would be stuck at a backpacker in the middle of nowhere for weeks, waiting for a car key that would never come, I went back down to the beach to throw things at the seagulls. Lo and behold, one of the first things I randomly grab from the beach is the rental car keys I thought had been swallowed in the sea.
So we went forward. Chris took over the majority of the driving responsibilities because my driving was too fast and I was totally knew to the whole concept of driving on the left. Hours after CHris forced me to switch to passenger so he could drive, he veered suddenly onto the right side of the road and nearly drove straight into another car. My grabbing the wheel and nearly running us off the road was what prevented a terrible head on collision. Weeks later, our final days together approach, and we decide to go out to eat to say goodbye. (We had been living off of cheese, bread, and apples, and for me, the occaisonal can of Tuna.) I ordered soup and chips and couldnt finish my dinner. Chris was very disappointed in my lack of etiquette and told me that its rude to not eat everything on your plate. I didnt really enjoy the lecture so I made up the total lie that in Texas its rude if you everything on the plate because that implies to your host/hostess that they didnt feed you enough. CHris appeared to be mildly intrigued but still utterly convinced he was in the right.
When we arrived in Akaroa we found that the main Tourist attraction was swimming with dolphins. It costs $100 NZD and all they do is give you a dry suit and put you on a boat and drop you in the middle of a dolphin pod. You arent allowed to touch the dolphins, and they dont do tricks. We decided to try it out for ourselves. We rented a kayak and brought rocks to bang on the side of the boat to attract the dolphins curious natures. 2 dolphins approached the boat and when they were about 6 feet away we jumped into the harbor in order to say that we too, had swum with the Hectors Dolphins.
Then chris pissed off my boss and left.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
dilema
So I'm torn.
I don't know how to say this, so I'll just be blunt. Australia sucks.
well, at least for me it does. Let's look at the evidence...
1. Half of my friends I've made here are no longer speaking to my. (why? I'll never know. I've asked and recieved no answer...because they're that bent on not speaking to me.)
2. I have no job/no money
3. I haven't had a job or money since NOVEMBER. The massage work gets me by, but barely. and thats not including the vast credit card debt i've accumulated.
4. Applying for my student visa to the UK is going to be a bitch out here. Also, I have to fly to Canberra to do it, which would be like having to fly from Texas to New York. At home I can apply online.
5. Its just like America, but more annoying. ex: stores that would be open til 9 or 10pm at home close at 7 here. and everything is closed on weekends. wtf?
So all the evidence points to...what the hell, fuck it, lets go home. BUT there are reasons for why I'm torn...
1. I want to go to a lomi lomi retreat.
2. If I leave I'll feel like loser
3. If I go home I'll be bored and alone all the time. Much like now, but cheaper.
4. I wanted to go to bali, and I still havent seen the great barrier reef.
Someone tell me what to do. seriously. help me.
I don't know how to say this, so I'll just be blunt. Australia sucks.
well, at least for me it does. Let's look at the evidence...
1. Half of my friends I've made here are no longer speaking to my. (why? I'll never know. I've asked and recieved no answer...because they're that bent on not speaking to me.)
2. I have no job/no money
3. I haven't had a job or money since NOVEMBER. The massage work gets me by, but barely. and thats not including the vast credit card debt i've accumulated.
4. Applying for my student visa to the UK is going to be a bitch out here. Also, I have to fly to Canberra to do it, which would be like having to fly from Texas to New York. At home I can apply online.
5. Its just like America, but more annoying. ex: stores that would be open til 9 or 10pm at home close at 7 here. and everything is closed on weekends. wtf?
So all the evidence points to...what the hell, fuck it, lets go home. BUT there are reasons for why I'm torn...
1. I want to go to a lomi lomi retreat.
2. If I leave I'll feel like loser
3. If I go home I'll be bored and alone all the time. Much like now, but cheaper.
4. I wanted to go to bali, and I still havent seen the great barrier reef.
Someone tell me what to do. seriously. help me.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Melbourne pt. 2
So, Melbourne the 2nd time around so far is...interesting.
I work at full circe massage and spa. My boss is 300lbs overweight. He has a hard time stayng awake at his computer chair. He passes out in the chair and snores loudly, sometimes he drools on the mouse pad. Customers come in and walk right past him. It's fairly embarrasing. He also likes to say things like, "We aren't a rub and tug place, I dont have the licenses to run a brothel." Then he goes on to say that its my personal choice and if i did it he wouldn't know or care. He then goes into raptures over the merits of prostitution. riiiiight.
I'm staying with a few friends at the moment. I sleep in the living room on a couch cushion on the floor. I have all my clothes laid out in a row on the floor by a window. This doesnt bother my friends because their clothes are all over the floor too. And the couch, and the kitchen, and the bathroom. They are a lot of fun. I have been introduced to spray tans, make up primer, and the soap opera "home and away."
I am in the middle of a personal financial crisis. I want to ....(omg my boss just fell out of the computer chair and onto the floor) any way, I want to go to grad school overseas, pay off my school loans, pay off my credit card debt, and go to a lomi lomi retreat. I dont think I can do all this on $400 a week.
I work at full circe massage and spa. My boss is 300lbs overweight. He has a hard time stayng awake at his computer chair. He passes out in the chair and snores loudly, sometimes he drools on the mouse pad. Customers come in and walk right past him. It's fairly embarrasing. He also likes to say things like, "We aren't a rub and tug place, I dont have the licenses to run a brothel." Then he goes on to say that its my personal choice and if i did it he wouldn't know or care. He then goes into raptures over the merits of prostitution. riiiiight.
I'm staying with a few friends at the moment. I sleep in the living room on a couch cushion on the floor. I have all my clothes laid out in a row on the floor by a window. This doesnt bother my friends because their clothes are all over the floor too. And the couch, and the kitchen, and the bathroom. They are a lot of fun. I have been introduced to spray tans, make up primer, and the soap opera "home and away."
I am in the middle of a personal financial crisis. I want to ....(omg my boss just fell out of the computer chair and onto the floor) any way, I want to go to grad school overseas, pay off my school loans, pay off my credit card debt, and go to a lomi lomi retreat. I dont think I can do all this on $400 a week.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
things I'm looking forward to when I stop moving around
1. Buying a blender/food processor so I can make my own salsa.
2. Having a normal sized computer, that works, with internet
3. having real friends that i see and get to know over a significant period of time, as opposed to 1 week-1 month
4. having a routine
5. having a bed. the same one. every night. and my own blanket. and my own pillow.
6. possibly having a cat. or sugar glider.
7. having a place to wash my clothes.
8. not carrying around a massive back pack and smaller back pack and 2 duffle bags and a purse.
9. no longer losing my favorite clothing items because i pack and leave in rush.
10. not worrying about where my next paycheck/meal/bed is coming from.
2. Having a normal sized computer, that works, with internet
3. having real friends that i see and get to know over a significant period of time, as opposed to 1 week-1 month
4. having a routine
5. having a bed. the same one. every night. and my own blanket. and my own pillow.
6. possibly having a cat. or sugar glider.
7. having a place to wash my clothes.
8. not carrying around a massive back pack and smaller back pack and 2 duffle bags and a purse.
9. no longer losing my favorite clothing items because i pack and leave in rush.
10. not worrying about where my next paycheck/meal/bed is coming from.
song for the disenchanted backpacker
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VyuQvbpiAp8
We argued on the channel train to Paris
The vin rouge helped us make it sweet again
But by the time that we got down to Lyon
Everything I said was wrong and you cursed me in the rain
We split up for a while in Barcelona
We met up six days later in Madrid
I was hoping that the break would make things go a little better for us
And for a little while it almost did
Now I'm in a bar in Copenhagen
And i'm trying hard to forget your name
And I'm staring at the label on a bottle of cerveza
And every fucking city feels the same
You said to call you when I got to London
A French girl told me that you'd left a note
I said to her "I like your accent" and she thought I sounded funny
So we ended up drinking in Soho
Foolishly I followed you to Dublin
Like a ghost I walked the streets of Temple Bar
And all the bright young things were throwing up their Guinness in the gutters
And once I thought I saw you from afar
Now I'm in a nightclub in Helsinki
And they're playing La Vida Loca once again
And I can't believe I'm dancing to this crap but I'm a chance here
And every fucking city sounds the same
At a cafe in the port of Amsterdam
An E-mail from you said you'd gone to Rome
For a minute I thought maybe but my funds were running low
And anyway it sounded like you weren't alone
So I headed north until I got to Hamburg
A chilly city suits a troubled soul
And on the Reeperbahn I paid a woman far too much
To kick me out before I'd even reached my goal
Now I'm in a restaurant in Stockholm
And the waiter here wants me to know his name
And I can order sandwiches in seven different languages
But every fucking city looks the same
Arriverderci, au revoir, aufwiedersen, hasta la vista baby
Yeah, every fucking city's just the same
We argued on the channel train to Paris
The vin rouge helped us make it sweet again
But by the time that we got down to Lyon
Everything I said was wrong and you cursed me in the rain
We split up for a while in Barcelona
We met up six days later in Madrid
I was hoping that the break would make things go a little better for us
And for a little while it almost did
Now I'm in a bar in Copenhagen
And i'm trying hard to forget your name
And I'm staring at the label on a bottle of cerveza
And every fucking city feels the same
You said to call you when I got to London
A French girl told me that you'd left a note
I said to her "I like your accent" and she thought I sounded funny
So we ended up drinking in Soho
Foolishly I followed you to Dublin
Like a ghost I walked the streets of Temple Bar
And all the bright young things were throwing up their Guinness in the gutters
And once I thought I saw you from afar
Now I'm in a nightclub in Helsinki
And they're playing La Vida Loca once again
And I can't believe I'm dancing to this crap but I'm a chance here
And every fucking city sounds the same
At a cafe in the port of Amsterdam
An E-mail from you said you'd gone to Rome
For a minute I thought maybe but my funds were running low
And anyway it sounded like you weren't alone
So I headed north until I got to Hamburg
A chilly city suits a troubled soul
And on the Reeperbahn I paid a woman far too much
To kick me out before I'd even reached my goal
Now I'm in a restaurant in Stockholm
And the waiter here wants me to know his name
And I can order sandwiches in seven different languages
But every fucking city looks the same
Arriverderci, au revoir, aufwiedersen, hasta la vista baby
Yeah, every fucking city's just the same
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)