Let's take a trip, bayyybeee....

Well it's Thursday lunchtime and this little chicken is BOOOOOOORED! I've got naff-all to do at work, which is sort of a relief but sort of difficult too, because it means I have to appear to be busy on important matters when in actual fact I'm writing my blog or browsing sites about Apple or music or animals.

So let's treat this entry like one of those episodes in sit-coms where they go back in time, and remember old events. Except you'll have to imagine for yourself the wobbly "remembering" effect that they'd normally do on the telly.

I'll tell you about an episode of our travels. Mrs M and I are lucky enough to have travelled a fair bit for our time, and have the odd story tucked away.

I'll give you a bit of context. In early 2001, we left our home and jobs in Perth (actually the company I worked for went under spectacularly in the dot-com bust, so it was good timing) and moved to London. She taught, doing mainly supply (or relief/substitute) teaching, and I got a job working for a large real-estate website.

We worked and travelled in short stints for about 14 months. We got engaged at the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris in June 2001. Our jobs were both pretty crappy and we missed home so decided to start our 6-month journey back to Perth, in early July 2002.

We started out with a couple of one-week organised tours in Ireland and Scotland, and spent a week watching the Commonwealth Games in Manchester. Then we flew to Brussels (for the grand sum of 45 pence, thanks to cheap-ass airline RyanAir) and picked up a long-term lease car, which we would spend 3 months driving around Europe. Roughly, this was the route: Belgium -> Germany -> Czech Republic -> Austria -> Italy -> Croatia -> Italy again -> Greece -> Italy yet again -> France -> Spain -> France again where we dropped off the car and got the ferry back to England. We spent a couple of days back in London, then visited our friends Mr and Mrs T (now pregnant as per my post last week or whenever) in the beautiful town of Bath.

The last leg of our journey saw us fly to Nairobi, to begin a 6-week overland truck tour of southern and eastern Africa. It was simply the most amazing travel experience I've ever had, and of all the places I've been, Africa is the one I think about the most. Our itinerary in Africa was Kenya -> Tanzania -> Malawi -> Zambia -> Zimbabwe -> Botswana -> Namibia -> South Africa.

The best part of our Africa trip, in my mind, was the Serengeti and the Ngorongoro Crater. I've never been anywhere else which seemed so much like another world. It is indescribable in its beauty, and its sense of infinite freedom. It's weird to describe a hot, dry, dusty place in such a way, but it really was a kind of paradise. For me, most of that has to do with the animals. Having watched your average amount of wildlife documentaries and made the average number of visits to the zoo in my lifetime, I wouldn't have said that viewing wild animals in their natural habitat was any sort of special passion of mine before the trip. Now, after the trip, I can't get enough of it, and Mrs M has to put up with all sorts of noises if there's a David Attenborough doco on. "Whoaa, see that!"

Anyway, the context has taken up a lot more than I expected and I don't have too much more space for the actual anecdote in question, but here goes. We'd just spent a day and a half driving around part of the Serengeti, viewing the locals all trying to eat each other (mainly the yellowy ones eating the black and white stripy ones). We camped at the edge of the Ngorongoro Crater and in the morning descended into this gorgeous, self-contained bowl of African wildlife. We were travelling in the licensed 4wd vehicles, complete with local guide, as these are the only vehicles allowed in the Serengeti National Park. You aren't allowed to step foot outside your vehicle at any time, apart from a couple of very small loo stops. The Serengeti is 30,000 square kilometres, bigger than Belgium, and it's a huge area considering the lack of buildings, signs or man-made stuff. It's probably also that which gives it some of its "other-worldliness".

So we did stop for a loo break after a morning of animal watching, and there was a little hut thing with a drop toilet near the edge of where the crater rim rises up. We'd been observing these two huge elephants strolling around a lake nearby, from the safety of the vehicle. As we got out at the rest stop, a few of us said to our guide, "Hey, Dale, can we walk around the lake a bit, get a little bit closer to get some good photos?".

"Yes, ok."

Knowing that our guide's english was not the best, and having been warned that they would generally just answer yes to any question they didn't understand, we were sure to clarify. "So, we can walk around there?" (pointing).

"Yes, ok."

"How close to the elephants can we get?"

"Twenty metres I think. Twenty."

"Ok, thanks."

That's our mistake, right there. Should have clarified that last point a bit further. About 6 of us walked around the lake a bit, hearing the hippos grunting happily (jeez, we are SOOO stupid - how close we came to a gory death...) and snapping away photos of the elephants who were now keeping a wary eye on these daringly silly westerners. One of the blokes with us got a bit closer than we were willing to get, so Mrs M and I and a couple of others started to turn back, and all of a sudden we hear this roar as Dale zoomed round the lake in the 4wd yelling at us to get back in the vehicle! Apparently, he meant 20 metres from where we were standing, not 20 metres from the elephants...

This was very early in our Africa trip, and we weren't aware of the awesome danger of the hippopotamuses. It's widely known that they're the biggest killers of humans out of any African animal, and here we were strolling past their watery playground. Combine that with the fact that the elephants could have charged us at any time and easily outrun us, and I guess it was a little unwise. Amazing experience though, truly. If you ever have the chance to visit Africa, don't miss the Serengeti whatever you do.

Righto, that was a half-baked shambles of an anecdote, and I'll try to be more direct next time. Thanks for reading.

cheers,
Macca

How My Digestive System Spent Its Summer Vacation

Well here I am again. Tuesday night and I've just had the first two days of this week off. For those of you who came in late, yesterday I had a colonoscopy. Today I was just recovering a bit I guess. Not that I needed a great deal of recovery - it's a fairly non-disruptive procedure - but I was really tired after the last few days.

Saturday night I had the last supper, while we watched the West Coast Eagles go down by one single point to the Sydney Swans in one of the semi-finals. Then, when midnight struck I had to begin the fast which would only end last night after the procedure.

On Sunday morning I had a bit of a sleep in, in order to trick my body into skipping breakfast without noticing. It worked alright, and I was thinking that this 40-something hour famine was going to be easy. We had to go to our friends' place (Mr and Mrs S from a few posts ago) for afternoon tea, which was never going to be easy. Think cakes and all sorts of tempting goodies for the hungry faster.

I had a black coffee, as per the instructions which allowed that as well as clear soup, jelly, fruit juice and bugger-all else. The coffee on an empty stomach made me a bit jittery and hypo, but in a good way :) By "dinner time" on Sunday I was pretty darned empty.

Anyway, I again slept on the monday, and Mrs M had taken the day off to drive me to and from the hospital. I had a long wait in the waiting room with all the other folk who were there to have their pipes inspected. We were all suited up in our lovely hospital gowns which provided oh-so-easy visual bum-crack access to our fellow patients. One fellow sitting opposite me unfortunately had either forgotten what he was wearing (or what he wasn't wearing), or had seized this particular medium to make his pornography debut. Every time I looked from the television to the nurse calling someone's name, I was forced to elaborately cast my gaze to the ceiling and back down again to avoid the gastly display. It probably looked like I was watching a tennis match in which lob shots were the only ones allowed.

Eventually it was my turn and the doctor was your typical medical specialist type - like it doesn't matter what you say, you feel stupid because they just radiate knowledge and command respect just by the wise way they nod their head. He took me through what they were going to do, and the anaesthetist jabbed me and gave me oxygen. He told me to roll onto my side, and then I woke up a while later in the recovery room. It was that easy. I don't remember a single bit of it, even though the anaesthetist said that part the way through, I started making some complaining noises and he upped my dosage a bit. Don't remember that either. Weird.

Anyway, they didn't discover anything nasty, which was a relief. They cut a few samples from the lining of certain bits of my insides and will send them off to test for various things. I've had a few very minor twinges of pain today which I attribute to that, but nothing else. All good though from the sound of it. I just had today off to rest.

Ok, I'm off to be a nerd and slaver over whatever Steve Jobs is about to announce at the big Apple announcements. He's already made my new Imac into old news in the last week, so let's see what else he can redundify. Yep, you heard it here first. Redundify.

P.S. Mrs M is sleeping soundly as per usual this time of night. Our little girl is kicking a lot now, and I've felt it a few times. No other real baby news to speak of.

cheers,
Macca

End of an era

I don't want to give the impression that we're outgoing youngsters or anything, but... it's a school night, and we've just been out.

I know. Don't think I don't. It's crazy.

We've just been to see Lano & Woodley, for the last time ever, apparently. In my opinion, the best comedians this country has ever produced. I laugh a lot in general, and I can only remember one time in my life when I've nearly vomited from laughing so hard, and it was at a Lano & Woodley show. Brilliant stuff.

It probably seems like we're always out seeing shows and bands, but we just had a run of good acts in Perth, and had tickets to about 4 shows (3 of which I think I've rattled on about in the last few weeks).

We ran into a couple of friends there - well, probably more like acquaintances really, given that the last time we saw them was at a Frames concert in 2003... Anyway, just for a change, they are also pregnant, due November 11th, and they're having a girl too. It's in the water here, I tells you. There are about 10 of our close friends who've all had girls in the last year or so, or are having girls in the coming months. Weird. But nice, in a ponies and ribbons kind of way.

Here's something gross to read while you have your cornflakes: on Monday I have to have a colonoscopy. Warning: don't click the link (to Wikipedia) if you're squeemish. There are pictures. Not of yours truly, mind you - I'm not into gastrointestinal modelling. Those days are over.

I won't gross you out too much with details, but suffice to say that all my blood tests came back with good news and there should be no nasty stuff waiting to be discovered by the doctor, but it's best to be on the safe side. Can't say I'm looking forward to having the entire camera and film crew making their grand entrance (especially if the director brings his deck chair - they can be spiky), but from what I'm told I won't feel a thing due to the drugs (which I have to admit I am looking forward to :).

The worst part is probably the fact that although my day-surgery appointment is not until 12:30pm on Monday, I cannot eat at all on Sunday or on Monday morning. So given that they expect me to be released Monday night around 6pm, Saturday night is my last meal until Monday night. 48 hours without a bit of food. Oh well, for some people that's business as usual, so I can't complain. Well, I can complain a bit. Grumble grumble moan bah grumble.

Will keep you updated.
cheers,
Macca

But who owns all the apostrophes?

Phew. Busy weekend.

Friday was the semi-regular cards night which I have with some of the husbands of Mrs M's workmates and former workmates. It's a good thing too. The wives all get together and try to talk louder than each other while scoffing as many forms of chocolate as they can think of for a few hours, while us fellers sit around drinking and betting as much as a whopping dollar a time on the many varieties of poker.

It's a pretty blokey affair on our side. We generally have the footy (Australian Rules Football) on the telly in the corner; there are rude words spoken as part of inappropriate jokes; people are fairly free and easy about bodily functions, and about the ownership claims of said bodily functions. Like I say, it's quite blokey.

So I was expecting to have to get a cab home because Mrs M was likely to be finished at the girls' get-together a bit sooner than I would be at the cards night. But - crazy woman that she is - she wasn't even finished by the time we were. So she was able to drive me home in my inebriated state. Actually, I was really only a bit tipsy, so don't be thinking I'm some sort of alco.

Saturday I finally managed to get that damn shelf from Ikea and set it up. Took a loooong time to set up because it's a bit of a monster shelf. Not a shelf you could put monsters on, but quite large all the same. Mrs M was out all day with her sister, getting Fathers' Day presents (yes I think the apostrophe should be after the "s" in Fathers, because it's the day of all fathers, right?...not just one father, thankyou), and a birthday present for my brother's wife (just one brother, and even if I had more than one, it would be unusual for them to share a wife, so before the "s" in this case). Mrs M also managed to get some more maternity clothes, of which she was in dire need given her rapidly expanding girth.

Saturday night we went to a pub/restaurant for my brother's wife's birthday (just the one wife). It was ok, but Mrs M was always going to be tired what with the late night on Friday and all, so we didn't stay late.

Sunday was more stuffing around with the Great Room Transfer Of '06. The new study is starting to take shape. The baby's room is still a mess...but we've got 3 months to sort it out. We'll get there.

Sunday night we went to Mrs M's parents' place (more than one parent) because of the aforementioned Fathers' Day. Had a barbecue there. Lots of running and laughing kids and too much food as usual. My parents are away at the moment. I got an SMS from them this morning saying they were standing at the tip of Australia. Crazy travelling gypsies they are.

Our friends Mr and Mrs T phoned last night to give us the news that they are pregnant. This is especially good news for them because they had a rough trot with it all last year. Mrs T fell pregnant, and in one terrible weekend she collapsed and was rushed to hospital when it was discovered that the pregnancy was ectopic, the baby miscarried, Mrs T became dangerously ill and is lucky to have survived, and she lost one of her fallopian tubes. It really is quite miraculous that they have managed to get through this and have a baby of their own on the way. :)

Right, that's it from me. I will make a concerted attempt to get back in the swing of writing these at home, where I have more time. No real baby news of our own to speak of right now, so that's it for the moment.

cheers,
Macca

Everyone's kicked a goal!

Just a quick one tonight as it's a bit late and I've got a bit of a headache, although despite this I'm still finding it difficult to draw myself away from the computer. Addiction comes in many flavours...and this one's Geek-Toy Flavoured.

Right, the big news is that tonight, for the first time, I felt our baby kicking ! :)

For those of you who came in late, I myself am not actually having a baby. My wife is. What with her being the female of the couple, and with us being sticklers for some old fashioned traditions, we felt it best that she carry our child.

So we were sitting there just before dinner, slouched in front of Australian Idol (no, I don't watch it, I just know all their names and reckon Bobby from last night did a great version of Under The Milky Way. In no way am I at the point where I must touch the poster of the finalists precisely 24 times a day. That's way too many. I think 10 times a day is more than enough).

Mrs M yelled out to me as I was up at the fridge to come and feel our little girl, who had obviously started the night time play session. I put my hand on her tummy, expecting to not feel anything as usual, and then BOP! There was a huge kick, or punch, or headbutt or something. Really quite violent, she is. Gets it from her mother, I'm sure.

We were both pretty ecstatic with this little bit of action. Nice and assuring to get this sort of thing between visits to the obstetrician.

Ok, off to bed.

cheers,
Macca

Too much sax and violins

Howdy team,

More crappy network problems going on here. I'll try not to labour (yes, that's labour with a 'u') the point, but here's a brief rundown.

After last week's shenanigans, we again started to have telephone line weirdness on Friday. This time, the phone was okay, but the ADSL was falling out like best friends over that hot 'n flirty new girl at school. I rang our ADSL provider (Westnet) and they told me that most of their customers who are in our area, and hence are going through the Mullaloo telephone exchange, are currently disconnected. He said there was a message on his screen regarding the Mullaloo exchange, which said that Telstra had advised that it was doing some work in the exchange over the weekend. Hello...

So I rang Telstra again. God, I love Telstra. Have I made that clear so far? All I wanted was to find out from Telstra was how long could we expect the work to continue, and therefore maybe get some idea when our telephone line could expect to stop being prodded and yanked every which way.

Anyway, get this. The lady at Telstra says to me that if my problem involves ADSL through a third party, I have to raise a support issue with them, and that they have to raise a support issue with Telstra!!! What?

"But...", I spluttered, frustratingly, "the point of that step has already been accomplished! Westnet have already been notified by Telstra that there's work going on in the area. What would be the point in Westnet raising an issue with Telstra now? Can't you just tell me how long the work is expected to last? Like, today...or the whole weekend...or a month...?"

But no. For party A to find out a bit of information from party C, they may not talk directly. You may only communicate with party B, who may then find out the answer to your question from party C, and relay the information back to party A. Makes perfect logical sense.

Right, enough of that.

We saw Ben Folds the other night, playing with the Western Australian Symphony Orchestra. Pretty good, although this one was at the Concert Hall, and we saw him last year with WASO in King's Park and I thought it was better there. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure for the purists, the Concert Hall is better for hearing the strings etc in the unamplified environment, but for me it was just not loud enough. Maybe I'm going a bit deaf from listening to my Ipod at screaming levels, but I preferred the outdoor environment where they amplified all of the orchestra. But it was a great show even so, and Mrs M stayed awake the whole night because she'd had a big sleep when she got home from school (work) in the afternoon. She is quite the tired young lady at present.

We had our 23-week check up the other day too - I forgot to mention it because it was so uneventful. Everything was fine, apart from the fact that somehow we'd managed to be a week out with our appointments (it was supposed to be at 22 weeks). And the whopping great big bill, too. All obstetricians seem to have a different charging structure, and with ours you pay not very much for most of your visits, and then for the 22-week appointment you pay four figures! But it's all worth it, and we got another peek at our little girl, wriggling about in there she was too. Our obstetrician is pregnant herself, a couple of months ahead of us, so she's just about ready to stop work and have her baby. But apparently she'll be right back to work, straight away. Pretty amazing, really. Very smart cookie, she must be. Talking like Yoda today I am.

Enough for now, this is. Later, talk we will. Etc etc.

cheers,
Macca

R.I.P. Free Breakfast

It is with sadness that I bring you the news that today the world has learned of the passing of the opportunity to have free breakfast every day at my workplace. After a long bout with employees dogging out as if they'd not eaten for weeks, it was announced that the free breakfast had succumbed overnight to financial factors probably brought on by myself and a few thousand other gluttonous, fat, tie-wearing scavengers.

There will be a brief mourning period for the next week and a half, during which employees may still feast until they vomit, ending in a final sending-off next friday, when the last greasy bacon and egg muffin will be wolfed down and instantly regretted. A fitting tribute.

Our hearts go out, quite frequently, with the amount of congealed fat clogging up our strangled arteries. And our thoughts are with the thousands of employees worldwide, who will be forced to endure the pain of healthy muesly, yoghurt and orange juice, at home with their families, rather than spend a half an hour more at work so that they may further company profits and risk a stroke through poor nutrition.

Oh well, it was good while it lasted. May free breakfast rest in peace.

cheers,
Macca