It's the night before our birthday (mine and Rachel's) and I'm alone. I've had a crappy day, Chris isn't home and I feel pretty flat. But do you know what will make me feel better? Neighbours. That's right, never-ending, repetitive, safe, Neighbours. I often think about Rari when I'm watching it because she is one of the few people who understands how important it is to me (the other two are my mum and the man I'm going to marry). Usually when I tell people about my Neighbours habit (it is a drug) a pitying look will come into their eyes. Or, they will change the subject, talking about some other stupid show like Home and Away WHICH I REALLY DON'T CARE ABOUT.
But not Rachel.
She will always ensure that her calls don't disrupt my Neighbours time. Even when calling me from Sudan to communicate that she has been in a rickshaw accident while suffering deep vein thrombosis (actually Rachel and Neighbours do have quite a few things in common....), the first thing she will ask is "It's not 6:30 there is it?'. When Rachel is actually in the country and people diss my taste she will rush to my defence with a half joking smile, but there is a look in her eyes that says 'Do NOT disrespect Neighbours in Mary's presence and therefore mine'.
While abroad Rachel's international life is full of very serious things. She works for various do gooder organisations and has an understanding of politics that is way over my head. However, I think that even if she one day was head of the UN, hosting a peacekeeping discussion in the Middle East, she wouldn't have the same serious expression as when I relate to her what's happening on Neighbours.
'I CAN'T BELIEVE Toady is SERIOUSLY going to try it on with Sonia again!!!' I explosively tell her. I know that Rachel has no concept of who Toadie is or what relation he is to Sonia, but that doesn't mean that the situation doesn't have her complete attention. In her mind a woman (Sonia)lies on the dirty floor. In the doorway, a dark and menacing man with a disfigured face that has earned him the name 'Toadie' sneers at her, threatening to 'try it on' again. Rachel is outraged. 'Sonia will have to leave!' she exclaims, quickly thinking through the various community support options available in the region. 'But she can't leave now!' I wail 'she's discovered that Toadie's foster son is her long lost child!'. This new information will be quickly absorbed and Rachel is onto the next strategy, determined that together we will save this woman. She is unaware that in Neighbours tiny little world this major problem can be solved over a cup of coffee at Harold's and a good long chat.
That's what I love about Neighbours. Everything turns out right in the end. It might take an entire season to get there, but eventually the baddies will suffer and those squeaky clean kids will be just fine. When and I talk through problems with Rachel I also get this feeling. Sure I just lost my phone and it was really expensive to replace, but if I talk to Rachel I know that this is just a tiny scene in the episode of my life. Tonight I don't have Rachel with me and I will have to turn to my substitute, but I know that in the same way that Neighbours will NEVER EVER EVER END, Rachel will always be there for me to help me see that it's all going to be OK. And that's likewise snot eyes from me. Happy birthday Rari.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Once upon a Rari
I haven’t heard from Rachel in a while and it makes me wonder what she’s doing. I have no concept of what life is like in Sudan so I thought I would just pop her in a fairy tale and see what happened. A ye olde sexist fairy tale to really test her patience (this is what happens when you neglect your friends Rari – enjoy)
As much as I love Rachel I don’t think we can immediately cast her in the princess role. Let’s meditate upon a typical princess. Long wavy luscious locks to start with - I don’t think they ever go through a ‘dreadlock’ or ‘mullet’ faze. Then we have the dresses. If Saris or flared pants were ‘in’ for Princesses Rachel would be a sure thing. Sadly her wardrobe has always been lacking in the frilly satiny ribbon covered trailing dress department.
So.
That leaves us with a peasant.
Rachel is hanging out at her peasant hut (I think I’ll make her a lonely orphan to spare her family from having to be involved) and doing ye olde things. What does peasant Rachel do? The last time I saw Rachel get in touch with nature she was trying to mow the lawn with gardening shears so I don’t think we can trust her with farming. I have also eaten her very interesting macaroni and cheese and it confirms that she won’t be in the kitchen either (sewing or weaving don’t even deserve consideration). Rachel has told me in the past that she appreciates ‘animals with purpose’ so let’s put her in the dairy milking a cow.
I’m not sure if Rachel is aware but dragons have a liking for milk maids in fairy tales and a big green scaly gold one descends from the sky to pluck her away from her cow and fly with her to his cave. Rachel absolutely loves to travel so I can’t imagine her struggling too much, and honestly she would probably be happy to be parted from her cow as she is more the dairy consuming rather than producing kind.
It’s never really clear why dragons take ladies to their caves, there are accusations of culinary plans but as they never seem to get around to it I’m sure that’s not the truth. Rachel happens to quite enjoy spending money (generally on travel) and dragons have a lot of jewels and etc (generally from travelling) so I’m sure that they actually wind up sitting down together on his mountain of doubloons and discussing how they should spend it all. As an ethically conscious peasant Rachel would no doubt recommend returning some of the stolen treasure, but for the cases where everyone in the village was burnt to death I’m sure she would reason that they should invest in food, wine, and possibly an island.
There is no doubt that in the midst of all this planning a prince would turn up to save Rachel and slay the dragon. Both Rachel and the dragon would not be impressed with this. Dragons happen to be against slaying of their fine selves and Rachel would be against any connotations of damsel in distress. I’m sure she would give the prince a stern lecture on sexism, unnecessary slaughter of endangered wildlife and the irrelevance of a monarchy in fairytale land. The dragon would back her up by toasting the prince’s ears a little every now and again.
The prince, now suitably reprimanded, would probably ask for a kiss which Rachel would not very grudgingly bestow. Suddenly -hey Presto! (This wouldn’t be a fairytale without some element of magic) The prince’s hair begins to lengthen and matt together, his velvet robes shrink and tighten on his chest and his pants flap out fisherman style. His hips start to move to a strange new beat and he wishes he could express it, but wait! He can! A bongo drum materialises in front of him and a guitar appears to grow from his back to hang from a sling. Rachel’s true prince has arrived.
She, the dragon and the prince buy their tropical island and live in total harmony lying around drinking coconuts and eating vegetarian delights (the dragon happens to be an excellent chef and very versatile in non human flesh cuisine). Every now and then they will fly to a village and restructure its economy, discuss social values, and even have a traditional dance party with moves specific to that region. In short - happily ever after.
As much as I love Rachel I don’t think we can immediately cast her in the princess role. Let’s meditate upon a typical princess. Long wavy luscious locks to start with - I don’t think they ever go through a ‘dreadlock’ or ‘mullet’ faze. Then we have the dresses. If Saris or flared pants were ‘in’ for Princesses Rachel would be a sure thing. Sadly her wardrobe has always been lacking in the frilly satiny ribbon covered trailing dress department.
So.
That leaves us with a peasant.
Rachel is hanging out at her peasant hut (I think I’ll make her a lonely orphan to spare her family from having to be involved) and doing ye olde things. What does peasant Rachel do? The last time I saw Rachel get in touch with nature she was trying to mow the lawn with gardening shears so I don’t think we can trust her with farming. I have also eaten her very interesting macaroni and cheese and it confirms that she won’t be in the kitchen either (sewing or weaving don’t even deserve consideration). Rachel has told me in the past that she appreciates ‘animals with purpose’ so let’s put her in the dairy milking a cow.
I’m not sure if Rachel is aware but dragons have a liking for milk maids in fairy tales and a big green scaly gold one descends from the sky to pluck her away from her cow and fly with her to his cave. Rachel absolutely loves to travel so I can’t imagine her struggling too much, and honestly she would probably be happy to be parted from her cow as she is more the dairy consuming rather than producing kind.
It’s never really clear why dragons take ladies to their caves, there are accusations of culinary plans but as they never seem to get around to it I’m sure that’s not the truth. Rachel happens to quite enjoy spending money (generally on travel) and dragons have a lot of jewels and etc (generally from travelling) so I’m sure that they actually wind up sitting down together on his mountain of doubloons and discussing how they should spend it all. As an ethically conscious peasant Rachel would no doubt recommend returning some of the stolen treasure, but for the cases where everyone in the village was burnt to death I’m sure she would reason that they should invest in food, wine, and possibly an island.
There is no doubt that in the midst of all this planning a prince would turn up to save Rachel and slay the dragon. Both Rachel and the dragon would not be impressed with this. Dragons happen to be against slaying of their fine selves and Rachel would be against any connotations of damsel in distress. I’m sure she would give the prince a stern lecture on sexism, unnecessary slaughter of endangered wildlife and the irrelevance of a monarchy in fairytale land. The dragon would back her up by toasting the prince’s ears a little every now and again.
The prince, now suitably reprimanded, would probably ask for a kiss which Rachel would not very grudgingly bestow. Suddenly -hey Presto! (This wouldn’t be a fairytale without some element of magic) The prince’s hair begins to lengthen and matt together, his velvet robes shrink and tighten on his chest and his pants flap out fisherman style. His hips start to move to a strange new beat and he wishes he could express it, but wait! He can! A bongo drum materialises in front of him and a guitar appears to grow from his back to hang from a sling. Rachel’s true prince has arrived.
She, the dragon and the prince buy their tropical island and live in total harmony lying around drinking coconuts and eating vegetarian delights (the dragon happens to be an excellent chef and very versatile in non human flesh cuisine). Every now and then they will fly to a village and restructure its economy, discuss social values, and even have a traditional dance party with moves specific to that region. In short - happily ever after.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Day two (kind of)
Apparently Rari feels my working 7:30 am -3 and then coming home to pack up my house for moving isn't an excuse, so here is the next post written on my lunch break -
In my previous post I mentioned that Rari and I are 'twins'. Basically this is the result of our mothers growing up together and then randomly (or so we are told, I'm not ruling out the possibility of an ongoing science experiment which is top secret but will ultimately decide the fate of the human race) having daughters an hour apart.
Like all twins Rari and I have our similarities and differences. You could say this is true of any two people but then this piece of writing would have no point and I will have wasted several hours of my life so let's not make that generalisation thank you.
One of our most obvious differences is our reaction to dogs. When I see anything canine I become an infant. I can only stand and point while (much like a deflating balloon) I exclaim 'Doooooog!' . If I'm actually allowed to pat the dog I then reach a point of madness where I am overjoyed to be interacting with THE BEST ANIMAL EVER but at the same time I am crushingly aware that I will fall in love with it and it belongs to someone else.
Rari, doesn't 'get' dogs. I think she sees them as ornaments on a shelf, pretty to look at, but pointless. To give her full credit she did recently try to 'get' them recently when I brought a dog (and some friends) to stay overnight with her. I had left a message on her phone letting her know that the dog was coming (I was NOT going to miss the opportunity of AN ENTIRE WEEKEND hanging out with a dog). She returned my call after her uni class with a slightly confusing response.
'Mary, do dogs eat grass?'
I paused a moment to contemplate what she had just said. Could she have dog mistaken with goat? Was she worried the dog would eat a special plant? Or had she become a really strict vegetarian?
'Well they eat a bit' I replied cautiously. 'Just to keep their tummy happy'.
'Oh good' she was very pleased with this information. 'My yard is completely overgrown and your dog will eat the grass'.
Despite my assurance that one Labrador can't actually consume a yard full of grass, Rari remained overly cheerful about the dogs arrival.
And do you know what happened? Every time Rari looked at that damn dog it would start eating grass, like it knew it was paying it's dues for a free nights accommodation. My favourite image of the trip is Rari, with her garden shears hacking at knee high grass while the dog stood to the side and did her best.
Do I actually have a point in writing this? I have entirely forgotton. But I did get to think about dogs (and Rari) for a while so I gues it was worth the effort.
In my previous post I mentioned that Rari and I are 'twins'. Basically this is the result of our mothers growing up together and then randomly (or so we are told, I'm not ruling out the possibility of an ongoing science experiment which is top secret but will ultimately decide the fate of the human race) having daughters an hour apart.
Like all twins Rari and I have our similarities and differences. You could say this is true of any two people but then this piece of writing would have no point and I will have wasted several hours of my life so let's not make that generalisation thank you.
One of our most obvious differences is our reaction to dogs. When I see anything canine I become an infant. I can only stand and point while (much like a deflating balloon) I exclaim 'Doooooog!' . If I'm actually allowed to pat the dog I then reach a point of madness where I am overjoyed to be interacting with THE BEST ANIMAL EVER but at the same time I am crushingly aware that I will fall in love with it and it belongs to someone else.
Rari, doesn't 'get' dogs. I think she sees them as ornaments on a shelf, pretty to look at, but pointless. To give her full credit she did recently try to 'get' them recently when I brought a dog (and some friends) to stay overnight with her. I had left a message on her phone letting her know that the dog was coming (I was NOT going to miss the opportunity of AN ENTIRE WEEKEND hanging out with a dog). She returned my call after her uni class with a slightly confusing response.
'Mary, do dogs eat grass?'
I paused a moment to contemplate what she had just said. Could she have dog mistaken with goat? Was she worried the dog would eat a special plant? Or had she become a really strict vegetarian?
'Well they eat a bit' I replied cautiously. 'Just to keep their tummy happy'.
'Oh good' she was very pleased with this information. 'My yard is completely overgrown and your dog will eat the grass'.
Despite my assurance that one Labrador can't actually consume a yard full of grass, Rari remained overly cheerful about the dogs arrival.
And do you know what happened? Every time Rari looked at that damn dog it would start eating grass, like it knew it was paying it's dues for a free nights accommodation. My favourite image of the trip is Rari, with her garden shears hacking at knee high grass while the dog stood to the side and did her best.
Do I actually have a point in writing this? I have entirely forgotton. But I did get to think about dogs (and Rari) for a while so I gues it was worth the effort.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Day one
So this is an unusual blog because it only has one target audience - my darling Rari. Rari (/Rachel) is my twin (from another mother, no it's not one of those crazy octomum science experiments, just a happy coincidence) and she lives a somewhat chaotic life. Whenever my mum and I meet up for a chat instead of discussing my life (one would think that was a mothers first interest) our conversations invariably start out with,
'So, have you heard about Rari....?'
After this the speaker always takes a sip of their drink, G&T being the preferred dramatic interlude
'Well........
She's going to Sudan.
She has deep vein thrombosis
Her rickshaw crashed and now she can't move the right side of her body'
No, these are not dramatic made up examples, this is Rari's life.
Understandably we prefer to discuss Rari's latest escapades as our boring lives revolve around predictable occurrences such as laundry and public transport. It's far less exciting to say 'I was walking to the shops to buy cereal and the pavement was uneven but I was fine because thousands of years of evolution have prepared my body for these situations'. We prefer to live through her adventures and therefore be able to discuss more interesting things such as vegetarian food options in Bangladesh or how to obtain Gin in dry countries.
So, who is Rari? I will now relate the vital components.
1) Rari is a girl who thinks Richard Mercer is god.
In a world of music sharing where a goth may love metal but also have a penchant for Fred Astaire it's comforting to have a friend who's music tastes revolve around one radio program. Love song dedications. If there's a song that involves two people who are together or apart or lesbians or dead or just so gosh darned happy they have to sing about it, Rari will know the words. Celine Dion is her morning prayer and Backstreet Boys are her night time lullaby. This makes car trips hugely enjoyable as there's nothing so cathartic as pushing your out-of-tune vocal chords to the limit with Rari (and Whitney Huston).
2) Rari is a girl who loves mint slice.
OK so maybe love is the wrong word. Obsessive all-consuming adoration of mint slice is probably a better description. It's not due to lack of exposure, she is surrounded by good cooks (something I'm sure she has orchestrated to minimise situations where she has to 'create' her own meals) and she has traveled widely so it isn't that she doesn't realise there is other food out there, it's just that she wants mint slice. Now. As soon as you walk into a supermarket her body tenses slightly, and her eyes get this distracted look as she focuses on locating the biscuit isle. This is followed by a quick and satisfying hunt along the shelves until she turns to you, eyes shining with joy, the mint slice held out like a trophy. I have seen world famous chef's enjoy eating a meal, but I defy any of them to say they have experienced the contentment evident on Rari's face as she takes her first bite of mint slice.
3) Rari is emotional
Now I'm not going to point any fingers here, I've definitely been referred to as a little overblown in the feelings department myself. But that's why Rari and I get along so well! When we meet up it's a fantastic roller coaster of emotions, only it's more like a dodgem car that has broken loose and is hurdling through a busy city, swerving and crashing into things. When we first meet up, we are ecstatic. Happiness beams out of our every pore and the world is a big rosy coloured bubble of delight. But what's this? Something bad has happened to one of us? Suddenly, the clouds come over. Tears constantly waver on our eyelids as we reveal the truly terrible state of affairs. In this moment of darkness there is only one place for us to go, we are angry!! So very very angry! Our chopsticks have become weapons with which we cut through the air to highlight our rage. The next hours will continue like this as we cover every single aspect of our lives. But who would want to discuss things in any other (boring) way?
4) When Rari loves you, it's the best.
So this ends the first blog to entertain Rari while she convalesces, more tomorrow xxxxxx
'So, have you heard about Rari....?'
After this the speaker always takes a sip of their drink, G&T being the preferred dramatic interlude
'Well........
She's going to Sudan.
She has deep vein thrombosis
Her rickshaw crashed and now she can't move the right side of her body'
No, these are not dramatic made up examples, this is Rari's life.
Understandably we prefer to discuss Rari's latest escapades as our boring lives revolve around predictable occurrences such as laundry and public transport. It's far less exciting to say 'I was walking to the shops to buy cereal and the pavement was uneven but I was fine because thousands of years of evolution have prepared my body for these situations'. We prefer to live through her adventures and therefore be able to discuss more interesting things such as vegetarian food options in Bangladesh or how to obtain Gin in dry countries.
So, who is Rari? I will now relate the vital components.
1) Rari is a girl who thinks Richard Mercer is god.
In a world of music sharing where a goth may love metal but also have a penchant for Fred Astaire it's comforting to have a friend who's music tastes revolve around one radio program. Love song dedications. If there's a song that involves two people who are together or apart or lesbians or dead or just so gosh darned happy they have to sing about it, Rari will know the words. Celine Dion is her morning prayer and Backstreet Boys are her night time lullaby. This makes car trips hugely enjoyable as there's nothing so cathartic as pushing your out-of-tune vocal chords to the limit with Rari (and Whitney Huston).
2) Rari is a girl who loves mint slice.
OK so maybe love is the wrong word. Obsessive all-consuming adoration of mint slice is probably a better description. It's not due to lack of exposure, she is surrounded by good cooks (something I'm sure she has orchestrated to minimise situations where she has to 'create' her own meals) and she has traveled widely so it isn't that she doesn't realise there is other food out there, it's just that she wants mint slice. Now. As soon as you walk into a supermarket her body tenses slightly, and her eyes get this distracted look as she focuses on locating the biscuit isle. This is followed by a quick and satisfying hunt along the shelves until she turns to you, eyes shining with joy, the mint slice held out like a trophy. I have seen world famous chef's enjoy eating a meal, but I defy any of them to say they have experienced the contentment evident on Rari's face as she takes her first bite of mint slice.
3) Rari is emotional
Now I'm not going to point any fingers here, I've definitely been referred to as a little overblown in the feelings department myself. But that's why Rari and I get along so well! When we meet up it's a fantastic roller coaster of emotions, only it's more like a dodgem car that has broken loose and is hurdling through a busy city, swerving and crashing into things. When we first meet up, we are ecstatic. Happiness beams out of our every pore and the world is a big rosy coloured bubble of delight. But what's this? Something bad has happened to one of us? Suddenly, the clouds come over. Tears constantly waver on our eyelids as we reveal the truly terrible state of affairs. In this moment of darkness there is only one place for us to go, we are angry!! So very very angry! Our chopsticks have become weapons with which we cut through the air to highlight our rage. The next hours will continue like this as we cover every single aspect of our lives. But who would want to discuss things in any other (boring) way?
4) When Rari loves you, it's the best.
So this ends the first blog to entertain Rari while she convalesces, more tomorrow xxxxxx
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