A love letter

I'm in a relationship, in fact, we might even be going steady.

I have a serious crush on Melbourne. Not in a 'you're better than Adelaide' way or anything. I'm loyal 'til the end. But in a Mr Right Now kind of way. It's where I'm supposed to be.

It helps that some of my very best friends live over here and my housemates are sweet and my location is second to none. There's also the great restaurants, coffee and yes, I even love the public transport system (gasp!).  

My room has awesome views of the city and a gorgeous high peaked ceiling, I can walk to the Tan and I've just discovered Leo's (thanks Sue!).

The markets are a feast for the senses and Zumbo has just opened up around the corner. And then there's Burch & Purchese - I'm without words. I have pho at my fingertips and Mexican just down the street. I've only filled up my car four times in six months - and that included a drive to Dean's Marsh!

It's not all rosy though. Work has been tough (I'll leave that post for a rainy day) and they use plastic bags over here like they're going out of fashion (yay for SA's stance on plastic bags). They don't have a bottle recycling program and my heart hurts every time I put 10c worth of glass or plastic in the recycling bins. Those poor Boy Scouts!

And I can get lonely. I derive so much happiness from bouncing off other people but my 'other people' have their own 'other people' and I miss my Mum. And my Dad. And my brother and sister in law. And I desperately miss my niece and nephew who are growing up way too fast. And I miss my grandparents and being 15 mins away from everything and everyone.

But this city still has me wrapped around its little finger.

There's the small issue of the terrible weather and serious hayfever conditions, and most of my above mentioned friends are grown ups with life partners and kids which isn't ideal for a 30 year old single gal's social life. But otherwise things are pretty good.

The shops are open til really late and they have ham on their parmies - sorry parmas - as a standard. Flowers are cheap and brunch is served all day.

I wouldn't say it's love - yet - but I've got a serious case of lust for this city. Enough to get me smiling again.

I've had a bit of a blog block recently, but I'm slowly trying to find my mojo again. If anyone still tunes in, I'd love to hear from you. Especially if you're in Melbourne - I could do with a tour guide, shopping  director and a glass of vino or two. Oh, and a job (long story - but I'm serious!!)

What do you love about Melbourne? Help me compile a 'must do' list so I can  see it through your eyes.

I'll be back again soon. Slowly. I'm finding my way xx

Take off

I just booked my flight to Melbourne.

Like, the flight that will take me to my new home where I'll start my new job and find my new boyfriend and experience a new happiness.

Expectations high? Nah!

It still hasn't really set in, the fact I'm leaving the Rads. And my family. And my cute little shoe box of a house.

I've got so much on my mind - a crazy Easter at work, to start with.

Then finishing up my job, packing up my house, starting my new job, heading to New York, turning 30, throwing a shindig of a partay and then crossing the border for good to see what life throws at me.

Oh, and finding somewhere to live in Melbourne. That's not going to break the bank or break my heart.

All this within the next 8 weeks.

And breathe.

xxx

Figuring it out

Totally loved The Everygirl article today about acting your age.

It's like she took the words right out of my mouth . . .

 Is it more uncomfortable to reach 30 without those milestones? Or is it this way for every woman, no matter her relationship status, job position, number of dependents on her taxes? So maybe that’s makes me want to lie and say I’m 26 when I’m out late on a Monday night dancing to Motown music and drinking a PBR. Because those other, ‘30-ish’ things aren’t a reality for me yet. And maybe because I have a suspicion that people are more comfortable with that single, childless, woman at a bar being closer to 20 than 30. But maybe (hopefully) I’m wrong. I certainly know plenty of fabulous women in their 30s who would say so.

Love your work, Lyndsay.

Read the full story here.

Sailors

I've been away celebrating a friend's 30th birthday at the beach this weekend and was intrigued by a story that the birthday girl's work colleague had urged her to read in today's paper.

It was in The Advertiser (might I add, I found it on the Herald Sun website from October 2012 - come on Adelaide, catch up!) and was called . . . 

"Turning 30 . . . and so over it"

This is for the girls out there who are in the same boat . . . 

What happens when you turn 30 and realise you're not living the life you'd expected?

• Joanne Hawkins
• Herald Sun
• October 27, 2012

WHEN Kasey Edwards was 32, she woke one morning and realised she didn't want to go to work.

"And not just on that day, it was like I didn't want to go ever again," she remembers.

For Edwards, a highflying management consultant, who had worked her "butt off" climbing the corporate ladder, the realisation she hated her job - despite the six-figure salary that went with it - was devastating.

"It was shocking because I had done everything I was supposed to do to make me happy and one day I realised that I wasn't," Edwards says.

"And I felt an incredible guilt about it. It was like, 'What is wrong with me?' How dare I be unhappy when I have everything I thought I always wanted.'

Edwards was suffering from what some psychologists have dubbed the quarter-life crisis. That's right. Forget the mid-life crisis that traditionally happens about the age of 45.

These days Gen Y are having a crisis a good 15 years earlier, as they grapple with the feeling that their lives haven't turned out quite as they envisaged. Or that the life they thought they wanted isn't so appealing after all.

For women, in particular, there's also an expectation that by 30 they should have nixed the career/marriage/kids trifecta. And if they haven't, some start to get anxious because things haven't gone to plan.

Melbourne counsellor and psychotherapist Paul Cullen first noticed the phenomenon when he realised that about 70 per cent of his clients were aged from 28 to 32 and "a remarkable number were weeks either side of their 30th birthday".

*********

Shock horror, my 30th birthday is in a couple of months. This Cullen dude could be on to something.

It certainly explains why I've been waking up in the laundry at night for no apparent reason . . .

Read the full story here

Picture from here