This fire, we let it all burn.

University's finished for the year! I've been getting marks back lately and feeling very satisfied with them. Classes felt more fun and alive despite comparison to my previous semester abroad; I returned this time around wanting to knuckle down and learn, and I loved what I found. Speaking of which, this is a product of some group work I was involved in. We pretended we were a travel company in different parts of the world and just had fun with it.

Something that I seem to have taken to lately is the phrase 'joie de vivre', which is roughly translated to 'joy of living', or 'joy of everything', depending on who you are and who you ask. I've realised that this seems to be my exact way of approaching and looking at everyday life. The small and quirky details are the ones that jump out at me and I've found that I've had a more positive attitude to looking at problems. There's a beauty in everything; though I've found that sometimes it can be quite exhausting, at least I can sleep well at night!

I can't help it, I've fallen in love with the world.

...now that I've stopping thinking everybody's out to get me.

My university life isn't quite over; I've gotten into full swing in preparations for my study tour abroad next month. I'm looking forward to ice skating in the States so badly, I'm so glad that I actually took lessons since I returned. I've started moving forward with my life and getting to know my own city so much better; but I'm so looking forward to being a tourist again and experiencing the crazy chaos that comes with it. I don't think I'll ever stay put for long, no matter what I choose to decide to do with my life.

My skating lessons have gotten really interesting now that I've mastered the mere basics; now I'm doing crazy things like crossovers and one foot gliding on outside edges.

I got inspired the other week and wrote this little piece on my Tumblr about the importance of sharing your love instead of depending on a singular love with another person. There's so much love out there; it's all about how you feel it and how you share it with the people in your life. I've found people have started looking at me and thinking things like 'inspirational' and 'accomplished'... in fact, everything I've seen and done in the past year has only just humbled me to how small my thoughts are compared to such majestic views and wonderful personalities I've experienced. I've learned to start really looking after myself and love myself, because that's where it starts for everyone; themselves. It's taken me such a long time to be comfortable with being in my own skin, and I've finally found it.

So if that's inspirational... then so be it. I'll take your word for it.

I'll just be over here reading my book.

Take me, take me to the riot!

I passed my ice skating exam, by the way.

So I've had a bunch of crazy catastrophes in the past week or so. I've finally figured out how to utilise this part of my life; this strange, jetlagged heart of mine recovering little by little. I was sitting on the sidelines of my own life, looking in, waiting for my own life to start.

And it has. It took a while, but it finally has.

Sunday I went to the Royal Melbourne Show with friends. I'm glad I initiated plans and it turned out to be one of the best days I've had in quite some time. BMX stunts, rides, fireworks, showbags... I'd missed the chaos of a carnival atmosphere. It had been years since I'd previously gone to the show, and I was able to appreciate it differently with friends. One of my highlights of the day was finding a booth that was selling chocolate covered strawberries, which I'd taken to doing in Örebro as gifts and for fika.

It's funny, my two regular fika friends first laughed amusedly at the thought of 'fika' being an actual word for what we do regularly (sitting around catching up over coffee and cake for hours, Fika Fridays!), but they seem to have adapted the term and they've really embraced it, which is something I've delighted in.

Something else I've done this week is revisit my Melbourne bucket list. I still want to do the Eureka Tower, but some interesting circumstances happened and I ended up at the top of Mount Dandenong, looking out over the city below.

It's so much better in person, you could see the entire city skyline much better. It got me thinking how I saw so many views abroad; Barcelona, Paris, Poland, Venice, Florence, Russia, Tallinn, and even from the Örebro water tower, looking over the city I'd lived in for such a while. 

It was so comforting to see a view of a place I call home this time; being able to think 'I live somewhere down here' as I watched the city below - and practically cost free (unless you count parking) and great company. That's not something I could entirely get from going to the Eureka Tower, but I still want to do it.

Cinema work is something entirely new; yet another perspective I've taken for granted. Apparently though, I'm a fast learner and I'm doing well.

And my pre-departure session for the study tour in the States is this Friday! It feels so much closer now.

...now what?

Okay, I think I'm going crazy.

Not a new sentence, I know. But I think about everything I wanted to do when I returned, and think about what I've really done to this point. I've gotten the haircut, I'm regularly ice skating once or twice a week, and I went to the Monet exhibition not long after I got back. I try and make plans with friends once or twice a week.

But that's it. I feel like I'm slipping backwards again.

It's hard to interact with strangers for me, considering my living situation and that everyone just feels closed off on campus. I've ended up mass venting my thoughts on my Twitter account, and a majority of it is about work (sorry to my Twitter followers).I'm second guessing myself at work and that just makes me fall further backwards in that regard.

Of course there's all that solo woman power, exploring Docklands, going to the cinema solo, eating out solo... but there's a fine line between confidence and solitary.

I think I just feel... lost.

Postcards.

Over a month has passed since I've returned. I've made a decent effort to return to my life in Melbourne without forgetting that fiery, passionate, ecstatic part of myself I'd discovered abroad - although I'd like to see you try the same while waiting on people. I thought it would be a good reminder to remember my postcard vendetta and the stories behind them all.

I must say, first of all, that I'd grown accustomed to the procedure of buying new postcards and sending them out. I had a mailing list of about seven or eight people, all in a little address book so that I was sure not to forget people; though sometimes that worked in theory and not practice. I had handled seven or eight identical, brand new and fresh. To come home to eventually see them as a complete set; all worn, some bent, with unique postmarks on them from their own adventures was nothing short of remarkable.

I was fairly particular and fussy with this process as well; I wanted the cards to have the local stamps, bought with the local currency, and sent from the country so that it would be legit.

I'll go chronologically.

Clockwise from top left: Sweden, Barcelona, Lappland, Paris.

Sweden was quite the easy one. Swedish Krona. I'd bought the cards at a news agency/bookstore in town, and the stamps were found at the Pressbyrån (local convenience store) on campus. The post box was right outside the Pressbyrån as well. Fairly straightforward. 

Barcelona; Euro. I was there for two days and I'd honestly almost forgotten about postcards, we were so busy! I'd even forgotten my little mailing book. I messaged most people on my mailing list online the night before we left asking for addresses. Bought the cards and stamps from the reception at our hostel on our departure morning. I sunk down on the little staircase in the lobby and feverishly scribbled out some greetings before addressing the cards, double checking the addresses with my iPod touch next to me. The hostel even had a little mailbox of their own, so those went right in.

Lappland. Swedish Krona. I bought these interesting cards from the Sami gift shop; after having just met and fed a live reindeer, and before tasting some reindeer meat. Since we hadn't left Sweden, I didn't find it necessary to mail them straight out. I took my time writing them and waited until we returned to Örebro, then simply bought stamps and mailed them out from the campus Pressbyrån.

Paris. Euro. These cards were found at a stall along the Seine, while my travel companion had popped into the Subway across the street. I loved these cards, they showed an old time view of the city from the top of the Arc de Triomphe, which we'd climbed the previous night. Gorgeous view, by the way. I bought some stamps from the Louvre that same day (there were cartoon cows on them for some reason), and wrote them all out that night. I'd forgotten to mail them out until we were leaving; I was quite distressed until we came across a post box randomly at the airport. There were two different slots, both labelled in French, so I simply shrugged and put them in one, hoping they would get to their final destinations. Apparently they did.

Clockwise from top left: Stockholm, Poland, London, Valletta (Malta).

Stockholm. Swedish Krona. There were plenty of stalls and vendors if you knew where to look for them. As with Lappland, I simply bought the cards, took my time writing them, and mailed them from the Örebro campus' Pressbyrån. Again, straightforward.

Poland; now this is an interesting one. Polish Zloty. I bought these ones from a store nearby Auschwitz; they were all fairly poignant and it was difficult to choose the scenery I wanted. I wrote them out after the shock of Auschwitz that night. The rest of the process that followed is quite hilarious to me now, and it was at the time to my travel companion as well.

The post box outside the Uprising Museum in Warsaw hinted stamps would be sold, but on enquiry I was met with blank stares as though I was an idiot. One guy finally said at the souvenir shop in broken English (I can imitate this remarkably in person), "Post stamps are at post office in Poland". We finally found one on the second last day of the trip, but I didn't have enough cash for all of the cards to be stamped and they didn't take card. We were assured that the office was open 24 hours ('Awesome', we thought) but by the time I'd gotten cash and returned, they were closed.

We were literally with our suitcases leaving the next morning, and I was fretting like Paris. My companion noticed we had a extra ten minutes until our bus for the airport, so he suggested I try again (the office was close to the stop). I tried, and it worked! There was a bit of hilarity with language barriers and standing in the wrong queue, but I got there in the end. They posted it for me and I returned to my travel companion relieved.

London was fairly straightforward as well. British Pounds. I bought the cards and stamps from the same souvenir shop. I wrote out the cards that night and posted them in the box around the corner from my cousin's house on the way to the Overground.

Malta was not as straightforward, but not difficult either. Euro. I bought the cards in Valletta. Wrote them out that night, then bought the stamps and mailed them off while in the Maltese island Gozo.

Clockwise from top left: Tallinn, St. Petersburg, Helsinki, Italy, Örebro.

Tallinn, capital of Estonia, was a tad difficult. Euro. I'd previously been to Tallinn for Sea Battle in April, but we'd only been there for a few hours just to ferry back to Stockholm again. I was hung over, dehydrated and dazed, I saw no point in rushing around for postcards when I'd be back again the next month.

The next time was a tour, with only a night in the city - a Sunday. The post office was closed. I really liked the cards but I bought them overpriced from an amber store. They had no stamps and only directed me to the post office - which, as I mentioned, was closed. Another place I was directed to was a cigarette counter, and after waiting for twenty minutes was given a dirty stare and told I was wrong.

We stopped for lunch and I scrawled out my cards, with my address book having been kept on my person in preparation. I finally thought to ask the tourist office and they simply pointed to a bookshop visible from across the street. The post box was located right outside our hostel, and they were mailed before we left for St. Petersburg the next morning.

St. Petersburg was one of the most difficult instances. Russian Rubles. I was still shaken from a (thankfully) failed robbery while in a church's ticket office. I saw these as I was leaving the church and had to have them, even though a British associate later called them 'garish'. I wrote them out that night, and went in search for the post office the next morning (learning from my time in Poland).

A bookshop owner helpfully told me in impressive English (for a Russian) of one near a church and scrawled the name on a piece of paper (didn't know it in English). I took one look at the piece of paper and sighed; it was written in Cyrillic symbols. I tried translating with my device and recognised the pictures as a nearby location and went to the church - but couldn't find it. I went with my friend into a café to try and ask, and the young waitresses working there couldn't speak a word of English. After a lot of gesturing and pointing on my part, and dirty looks on their part, one of them finally understood. She gestured and said slowly, "That way.....then...that way".

We found the office fine that way and I cautiously entered, asserting my position in the queue and waiting. When I got to the counter, it was a little old lady who presumably didn't know any English, so I was on the safe side. I fanned out the beautiful postcards and pointed to the post stamp square, making my intentions obvious. She looked through the cards and nodded deadpan, then took up a calculator, and typed in a price for me to see. I nodded, took out the notes and placed them on the counter, and she gave me the correct change. I nodded once again and left.

That whole exchange had occurred without either of us opening our mouths and communicating verbally. Even after the whole encounter, I was still unsure that my cards would arrive to their destinations (they did, though a little later than the next one).

Helsinki was a relief after Russia. Euro. There was a charming little market in a square where I bought the cards. A little shaken after Russia, I asked about stamps, and I was directed to a souvenir shop just up the way. The woman behind the desk was very friendly and reassuring, and pointed out the nearest post box (yellow in Finland). I didn't have my address book on hand that day, unfortunately, and we were only in Helsinki for a few hours.

I sat with my friends in a park, and as they relaxed, I tried to remember addresses off the top of my head. One of my companions was from Melbourne himself and he remembered postcodes when I couldn't. I think I remembered most addresses - if not, then REALLY close. I simply posted them off and they arrived in Melbourne before the St. Petersburg ones.

Italy; Euro. I bought the cards at one of the markets in Rome, and tried buying stamps. Apparently there's a private company that I bought them from and they had specific mailboxes in Rome that I couldn't reach from our hotel. We were leaving for Florence after the Vatican the next morning and I was adamant from sending them from Rome, so I was refunded the stamps I bought from the company. I wrote the cards that night and ended up buying stamps, mailing from the Vatican that next morning; which I was much happier with. It arrived with the next postcard, and after I had returned to Melbourne.

Örebro was the final card; Swedish Krona. These were sent a few days before I left Sweden in mid-June, and they came with the melancholy of returning home - but leaving another home. They had been bought from a Pressbyrån and stashed forgotten in a desk drawer, found as I was packing to leave. Sent from Örebro campus' Pressbyrån.

The water tower (Svampen) in Örebro, Sweden.

So there you have it... that's the summary of each card. Roughly seven cards per trip = ninety-one cards in total. I was looking at the postmarks and surprised to find that the ones from Örebro were postmarked from Västerås, a city on the way to Stockholm. I hope you enjoyed a little insight into the foreign crazy catastrophes that went into these postcards.

Honestly?

 

Hello everyone!

Things have been crazy and I haven't really had much time to myself lately, so here's a little update.

Work was getting a little crazy - understatement - what with holidays and working a few back to back shifts. People take their free time for granted until they no longer have it. I've cut back on my hours now that university's started up again, and it's amazing the little appreciations I have for everything. Showering. A proper meal. Dreamless sleep. Socialising. A reasonable bed time!

Sometimes serving people strips you of your humanity if you're doing it too often without properly taking care of yourself; and that's something I've finally had to accept. No matter how many times people ask how I am, it's just easier to say that everything's fine to not burden the question asker. I'm finally accepting that I haven't been well as of late. I got used to jet-setting, jumping around everywhere and anywhere; it felt like such a natural part of me. Coming back and staying still again feels like a betrayal of my personality and I have to learn to accept the 'waiting room' part of life again.

University! Once I cut back my work hours and started hanging out on campus again, I realised it was something I really missed. All that's expected of me is to think, try my best, and achieve a personal potential with you to motivate yourself - and I like to think that's something I am fairly good at. Classes are actually really interesting to me at the moment and I'm happy to meet new people as well.

We'll see how I go, now that things finally feel like they're getting better.

Tumblr
YouTube

Play hard, but work hard too.

Abisko, Sweden.

Hello! I'm happy to report that things have been quite busy lately. Sometimes I wonder why I put myself through certain things, before remembering that I'm working toward something. It'll all be worth it.

University trimester starts up again, and I'll be pondering more of the media and its hypnosis on the general society again. There's also a Study Abroad Club on campus that helps out the international exchange students, and I'll be joining! I'll help out students adjusting to Melbourne and this insane country.

I opened my letter to myself that I wrote before I left. It was full of a respect for the unknown that I wasn't quite expecting; and just another example of how far I've come.

I've read and watched The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern and Daydream Nation, respectively. I've reviewed both on my Tumblr page for your viewing pleasure, and they've both been such a surprise to me. Both came within 48 hours of each other and it's made me see things yet again differently.

I've finished 2 Broke Girls, and I'm debating about rewatching Buffy for that extra boost of self-respect. 2 Broke Girls has gotten me more curious about New York, and the people that can be found in little corners and down streets. Places like Soho and Willamsburg. Central Park. South Manhattan. I'm hoping to see Metric while I'm in North America; coming across Emily Haines' music in Daydream Nation has steered me back to listening to Metric and rediscovering my old favourites.

 

Ice skating's going well, I've signed up for a term and I've been going to the rink on weekends. I'm exploring different areas of Melbourne that I haven't previously and I'm loving it. I went with my friend Jewels to the Monet exhibition and then we wandered around the Business District.

As always, you can find more informal stuff on my Tumblr, and I'll keep updating once uni starts.

But if you close your eyes...

Venice.

...does it almost feel like nothing's changed at all?

Honestly, Australian politics are doing my head in. There's no sense of stability, not when you have two politicians like Gillard and Rudd fighting over the head job like they are. I think I should just move to England and be done with it, just leave now in time for the cinematic collapse. We're not educated enough day-to-day to know where we should put our votes. Now that Rudd's PM again, after Gillard got the job off him three years ago, I feel like I'm a kid growing with instability again.

Ice skating went well. Now that's a stability that will be catching on for me. To try something new overseas and bring it back with me, that's something I can say I'm very happy with. The rink I went to offered a free 15 minute basic skating lesson; we learned some basic things like getting up after falling, stopping and turning. We were then let loose with the rest of the skaters. I fell over a few times, but that was the fun. Special thanks to my friend Jewels for accompanying me and taking pictures.

I've loved that it's something so seemingly obscure around here, and I never would have thought of it unless I'd tried it abroad. I'm so thankful for something new to accompany this new part of myself. I'll always remember that the first time I tried ice skating was at a lake - nothing to hold on to - in Örebro, Sweden.

I miss the Örebro gang terribly. I've been back for nearly two weeks and there's little things I miss. It's like graduating high school in a way; all these people I would see day to day, I won't be able to see gathered in the one place again. We shared something special and unique. I loved being known as the little crazy Australian girl.

Meanwhile, I'm broke. Still, I'm working towards something new - the US Study Tour in November. It'll be a close one, but I work better with a goal to work towards. I've found my spark again and I'm not going to let it flicker out. Not on my watch. I'm too determined not to let that happen. Hopefully budgeting works out.

Work's been fine so far. Apparently I've gotten a raise due to my previous experience - not much, but still a raise! Tuesdays are Steak Night and I've enjoyed serving people who love steak, as I do as well. I've had some generous souls when it comes to tipping; it's reminded me that I'll have to be much more generous myself in the States. It's expected more over there, whereas here, spare change is considered generous.

Though if I could pay for my trip with compliments, I'd be a freaking millionaire by now.

Something I've remembered? My idea of mundane isn't necessarily as mundane as I think sometimes. Perspective, perspective, perspective. Serve the food, reset the table, move on.

I saw World War Z last Monday. Let me just say now that I knew nothing about the plot, only that Muse had contributed to the film's score. Brilliant, I thought, and then I was blown away by the inclusion of the track 'Isolated System' in the opening and throughout the rest of the film. I hear that the band were inspired by the book while composing their just released album, so it comes to full circle by contributing to the film.

By not having read the book, I was fairly pleased just by watching the film. Besides, an adaptation is never accurate. Of course, if you'd talked to me about Harry Potter five years ago I would have felt differently on the topic. There was also a moment of the film where they showed different parts of the world swarmed with zombies, and I recognised St Mark's Square in Venice without any help. I'm curious about other parts of the world now, such as Israel and China.

Worth seeing.

A restless nomad.

Well. I've been adjusting. I've had terrible jet lag, and Melbourne's been colder, but I'm recovering every day. I'm catching up and socialising as often as I can. I also got my job back! That's something that's become a huge relief to me.

I love being able to talk about my travels, with other people who have travelled. It may come off as boasting, but travelling is something I've realised makes me so happy. Some people have asked me why I'm not more big headed. And others feel the need to try and make what I've done hit home to me. I don't think I've entirely realised all the travelling I've done myself; and I prefer to keep it that way and remember them sequentially. Otherwise they blur together and I do realise that I've done a lot. I'm fighting to remember them separately, and it's confusing.

I met so many ambitious, like minded people overseas; and coming back, I've had to remember that this wonderful, open minded group is sadly the minority.

Another thing I've found coming back is how comparatively mundane everyday life feels now that I've experienced a different way of living. I didn't go two weeks without travelling somewhere after my first trip (Barcelona) and jet setting to another country just became so normal.

So one of the things I'm trying to do for myself these holidays is to try and keep things exciting. Socialise more. Get out there. Find a way to incorporate this weightless, effortless personality I'd found overseas and keep that zest for life that I'd found so easily overseas.

I've learned that I can't sit still and let life pass.
I need to actively participate.
I need to be a part of this strange, crazy, not always fair, life.
I need to see more of it.
And I want to find more of the minority.
...not only closer to home, but keep everyone I met abroad as well.

Swedish acknowledgements.

Well, it's time to leave for Melbourne (Friday), and don't get me wrong: I can't wait to get back. But I've had such an amazing time abroad with so many people. They need a soppy emotional acknowledgement blog post.

First of all, I'll say this. It's been such a pleasure to meet such smart, educated, motivated, ambitious people. It takes a certain mindset and decision to decide to spend a semester abroad in a different country. It's been amazing to talk to people about so many different countries and even visit them together.

I'll start with my two favourite ladies. I introduced these two to each other and they ended up the best of friends; Lindsey and Marion. You girls have been fantastic, I'm going to miss our partying and our gossipy fika sessions. I'm proud to call you my friends and confidantes.

Next... Lucas! Mister tall Canadian so proud of his corner of the world! We got along so well and I'm so glad to call you my travel buddy. Paris, Poland and Malta were fantastic with you and we must stay in contact! I'm so thankful you convinced me to go to Italy when I was on the fence about it, because it ended up being yet another fantastic trip for me. Thank you. Keep being you!

Next would be Rachell and Christin. You ladies have also been great for gossip, partying and downtime; thanks! The semester would be quite different if not for you two.

Next are the American lads, Max, Zach and Jake. I'll admit that my impression of Americans wasn't the best to begin with. But the way I got to know you three, it's helped me turn that around for the better. You guys keep it up!

Other Canadians, Josh, Meryn, Kyle: thanks for being there, really. Especially Meryn when I was homeless for a couple days. Arnaud and Julien! My French buddies! You guys kept things lively and I'm glad I could finally tell you apart by the end of the first week.

Italians! Giovanni, Marta, Andrea etc, I've loved being able to talk to you guys! You always included me and I loved being around you in Lapland. You were another reason that I ended up going to Italy. You inspire me to keep up my not-quite-fluent Italians.

And the fellow Aussies! Amy, Steven and Billy; you kept me grounded with conversations about home. Thank you for the company in such a strange little country.

At this point the Örebro group just widens and it gets impossible to thank you individually. People I saw on a regular basis, always asked me how I was, where I'd been, my next trip, and complaining how I was never around! I've loved getting to know each and every one of you. Don't forget the crazy little Australian girl.

Special mention to the Scanbalt Balalaika and Vodka Tour! We were such a great group of people and you made the trip even better. Tour manager Zane, you were brilliant, keep it up! Alex, Luke, Owen, Manon, Emily, Mitch, Romain, Andrew.... Well I could keep going. I still can't believe how much we drank that whole week.

That's enough emotional for me, I think. When we all separate and go back to our own lives, we'll still remember all those stupid, funny, ridiculous, delirious, drunk moments and smile for years to come.

If any of you are interested, I wrote a memoir about my waitressing experiences in Melbourne (November 2011). It's available at Amazon in both paperback and Kindle. 

If it wasn't for waiting, I never would have gotten out to Sweden and met all you lovely people. I've also been told that the way I tell stories is entertaining. The first day I started writing I served a woman with multiple sclerosis; it's all written down here in this monster.

Again... thank you. Thank you for this wonderful part of my life. Take care.