"I'm dreaming of a ...wet, dark, cold Christmas"

I'm not really longing to be home in the damp, dark Irish weather that everyone in Ireland keeps reminding me of but at the same time there is definitely a piece of magic missing from Christmas this year and my only theory is that the strange December sun has dried it all up. One would think "ooh, a sunny Christmas, how exotic". Not really! Not in Wellington anyway, even though it is very warm with bright clear skies today, the last week has been wet, warm, cloudy and generally uncomfortable. I had myself believing that the rain was a comforting reminder of home but I don't remember December to be so...sticky. I do hope that the 25th is sunny and HOT and not so flippin confusing! If I am going to be in the southern hemisphere for probably my favourite time of year I would rather do it right and instead of a getting a toothbrush in my stocking, get sun burnt! Thank you.
I am working Christmas eve. For some reason I volunteered to take someone else's shift, don't ask me why, I think it's the humidity making my nerve endings fire causing me to say stupid things without my control or permission. I should finish at about 8 or 9 pm though which isn't so bad.
The packages that Mum sent me are tidily sat underneath our anti tidy Christmas tree. Unfortunately our unfortunate tree isn't the most balanced and will only stand up if its anorexic side is facing the us, the unfortunate public. Our housemate donated the decorations, "girls, it'll be beautiful, they aren't at all tacky.." hmm... Would you like some cheese with your Christmas tree? Apparently yes, yes we would...lots.
I am half very excited and half terrified of what I will find in my two packages from Cobh. I have been told that there are photos of home and many packets of the requested Taytos to look forward to. But there is also legend of an unknown evil wrapped within the innocently disguised brown paper. Every single time I ring home Mum warns me of the nightmarish form the requested box of Barry's tea has taken. "Everyone said that if you are sending things over sea to get them vacuum packed" she explained. As ever mother instantly regretted her actions and reluctantly wrapped the awkward rock of combined opaque paper and tea leaves. I fear the giant solid mass of black leaves and stained paper will put me off tea, even Barry's tea FOREVER!!!! The film could be called Nightmare on Christmas morning!
I expect that I will have to take Christmas this year with a spoonful of sugar or maybe even a shot glass of whiskey. I don't know how it will be. I have no doubt that it will be strange but pleasant none the less. Hold on, strange is right! There is 3 Santa's playing drums and a guitar singing Silent night in the back of a moving pick up in the middle of a busy city street as I write this. Whatever blows your skirt up I suppose.
I think the thing is that it won't actually seem like Christmas at all, to be honest that may be my saving grace. Merry Christmas to ye all at home! Have a good one and enjoy the lousy weather for me!
Nollaig Shona!!!!! Steph xxx

p.s. There they go again. Imagine "Let it snow", rock n' roll style. Again... strange.

So what becomes of a tripod when it loses a leg?

I am very sorry to write that the trio that is myself, Sarah and Dianne has lost it's bubbliest musketeer.
Dianne received the sad news today that her dear Grandma had passed away early this morning. Without a moments hesitation she decided that she needed to go home to Canada. After hours of holding at the end of the phone and scanning the Internet for cheap flights we drove her on her final trip in W.I.C. to Wellington airport. It was a heartbreaking farewell. It was only as she went out of sight through the departure gate doors that I realised that it could have been any of us going home prematurely because of reasons out of our control. The possibility that I would have to go home early because of reasons other than me running out of money is certainly something that I thought about before leaving and something that we have all discussed here. Honestly if something was to happen that would force me to consider returning early I couldn't have predicted what I would do in such an unfortunate situation...until today. Seeing Dianne in that predicament it was hard not to imagine myself in her shoes and I realised that I would probably do exactly the same thing. If not just for my own piece if mind, then for the comfort of others. It's not nice thought but its one that must be considered when you are so far away from family and friends.
I will miss Dianne hugely and I regret that we parted on such sad terms.

Going back to life in slow motion.

It's only now that I've begun to settle down in Wellington that I realise how relatively fast I was going over the last two months. Even though the last eight weeks travelling were by no means strenuous or particularly high paced, looking back now except for a day here or there, none of it was boring. However, now that I've put the brakes on , I feel that life is going to reacquaint me with my old friend boredom any day now.
I hadn't much or in fact any choice about settling down for a few months. The pot of money has run dry and it was this or go home. As miserable as this sounds I didn't exactly have to be dragged from the van, kicking and screaming with the road map gripped in my white knuckled hands. I am actually quite happy to just live somewhere for a while. To have somewhere to call home for a bit, to empty the bain of my life, a.k.a. my rucksack. I've never had so much joy in hanging up my clothes before, and then quickly tearing them down again and hiding the carpet with them. Now it really feels like home. It'll be nice to get to know a place, find a local....cinema! I'm not an alco people! I've also heard that the local sailing clubs are looking for crew. Maybe a bit of Wednesday night racing? You never know. Some things will however never ever change wherever I go in the world. I still HATE work! I hate the thought of work, I hate actually doing work, I even hate leaving work because the second you do you start thinking about work the next day. I am starting to wonder how in the world I am going to do it for the rest of my life?! So, on my travels around the north island I had lost count of all the "Molly Malones" Irish pubs there were littered around the place. One time I ventured into one and was unsure about which country they were trying to imitate. It could have been Argentina!!!! Really genuine. I quickly developed a loathing for franchise Irish pubs. A real patriotic loathing!....I am now a proud member of staff at the original "Molly Malones" in Wellington. "Well, hey there bonny lass, how are ya today?! Top o' the mornin to ya! Li di diddilly li di...."Please shoot me!!!" Unfortunately beggars can't be choosers and I need employment. It's not that bad, it's quite a nice bar and restaurant actually. The only thing is that about 70% of the staff there are Irish and I was getting quite used to being the only Irish person around. After all one loud, rude, cocky, alcoholic Irish person is enough for anyone to put up with, even if it is myself. Wow, being around my own crowd again made me realise that I had forgotten what rubbish we can speak sometimes! Well, we'll see how the job goes.
I'm house sharing a sweet place across the road from the beach. It's about a 10 minute drive from town but knowing that the sea is so close, just outside my window makes the commute worth while. It's my first home away from home, hopefully I won't miss the real thing this 25th too much.