#my friend is visiting from australia and we live in the south so we got him to answer the door for pizza

[kyndaris]

Onward to the Gong!

Living in New South Wales, public holidays are few and far between with only 11 official days. That being said, not all of them lead to long weekends. And after the Monarch's birthday in June, we poor Sydneysiders must need wait until Labour Day in October before partaking of another extended rest. It's outrageous, I tell you! Atrocious!

Still, in the spirit of adventure and wishing to relive our halcyon days in the sun, me and a few of my friends headed down to Wollongong to enjoy the salty sea air and swan around their city centre, which is but a stone's throw away from the major hustle and bustle that is Sydney. The only major city one really needs to visit when on the east coast of Australia.

Melbourne, who?

I jest. Melbourne is a perfectly fine city to visit or live. It's just...you know, not Sydney.

Although, it should not be noted that a day trip out to Wollongong was not what I'd initially dreamt up for the long weekend. Oh no. Rather, I'd hoped to road trip to the capital of Australia, Canberra, to catch a performance of RENT. The addition of more people to my travel plans, however, scuppered the idea.

What we got instead was a fancy day out with good food and even better company. It involved lounging at a cafe as we devoured a huge breakfast, watched as a car in front of us mount the central curb before swerving across multiple lanes and tailgating the cars in front of it, and also testing our abilities with a devious escape.

A worthy consolation prize, if I do say so myself.

Better than that, we didn't have any time to pay a visit to Shellharbour, where I would have relived the trauma of my many date fails (he was an earnest young man but not, perhaps, what I was seeking in a life partner).

Our small group of adults of mostly over-30s did stumble upon a protest to Free Palestine, however. By then, it was nearing 4 PM. Why it was so late in the afternoon remained a mystery. But the slogans were, admittedly catchy, and it was far better than the preaching we encountered earlier about how we ought to read the Bible lest we burn in Hell. Even some Mormons passing by were caught in the crosshairs.

As for the reason why, I couldn't say. But perhaps different evangelical groups feel like only their own beliefs are true? And all others are corruptions that don't adhere to the correct teachings?

These mild gripes aside, our day trip down to Wollongong was pretty much a success. Even the planning was an exciting endeavour in and of itself. Although, it must be said, trying to negotiate with friends to agree on a date, an activity and location can be like trying to wrangle kittens. It took no small effort to work around people's different schedules and plans.

And while I would have preferred a slightly more challenging escape room than the one we got, it was, in hindsight, for the best. The escape room was at the Breakout Bar, next to Wollongong Central. It was themed with clockwork gears on the ceiling and tables with the entrances to the escape rooms looking like heavy thick-set lead doors. Arriving early, we were given a brief overview of the escape room and the narrative tying all five of them together.

Once we had reviewed the story, we stored our belongings in the locker, plonked on some steampunk-esque goggles and time travelled all the way to Medieval England on a quest to return Excalibur to the stone it had been lodged in.

Although the escape room was one of the easiest available, our group still struggled to solve some of the puzzles. Of note were the unintuitive nature of the nail tower as it was unclear if the key to a nearby bird cage had been released. This was primarily due to the hidden compartment having to be pulled out manually and there was no audio cue to tell us we had succeeded. Quite a lot of precious time was lost where we tried to find a way to open the hidden compartment through other means (as we thought it was activated by magnets).

One other puzzle stumped us terribly too.

Even when we asked for the easy hint, we were left scratching our heads until we looked at the opposite wall.

If ever I should complain about other people being obtuse, I ought to remind myself that I failed to see a huge red and black shield on a wall (although, to be fair, in our group of five, four pairs of eyes also failed to spot it as well).

Still, we managed to escape the room. With time to spare!

Overall, I'd say the escape room was a success in how it got us all to collaborate with its many puzzles. All of us got to contribute our expertise, allowing us to return Excalibur to its rightful place and head back into Professor B's time machine in order to search for his beloved in another time period.

And while Wollongong is certainly no sprawling Sydney, I like to think we enjoyed our time there: from soaking up the sun at Coniston Dog Beach and contributing to a driftwood hut, to nabbing free chips at Grill'd, having a dessert break at Kurtosh, or buying a couple more books to add to my ever growing collection.

Perhaps next we visit the Illawara region, me and my group of friends can look to a few coastal hikes or perhaps take a gander up on the treetops.

If heading south isn't an option, we can always go horseback trail riding instead!

Australia may not be as vibrant as other countries, but there are many a hidden gem for both locals and tourists to discover. After taking some time to explore the main thoroughfare of Wollongong, I can say there's plenty to do and see in the small coastal city that's only an hour away. An absolute steal considering how far other locations can be in the great big giant country I call home.

[that1nkyone]

Untethered.

Roughly three decades ago, I was born in New Jersey.

I was the first kid to a young mother. My sudden existence changed a lot in her life. She had to mobilise for a few things, and mobilise she did.

Her relationship with my biological father didn’t last. She travelled back home to her family with me in tow, not knowing exactly where things were headed in her life - just that she had a kid to care for.

Her Dad was working out of the country. He asked her to stay over and visit, perhaps have a nice little vacation with his daughter and grandkid, respectively.

So, Mom packed up, strapped me to her chest and flew across the ocean, all the way to New South Wales, Australia.

I was six months old.

My Mom would meet the man who’d become my Dad at a Halloween party, one night. It happened very quickly, but he took me on board without question. They were married, and it became clear that Mom and I were in Australia to stay. My grandfather left with his family, back home to the States. My brother came into the picture soon after. I was two years old. I had a home and family.

As I learned to speak, I distinctly sounded Aussie - there’s video evidence on a VHS tape, somewhere. But Mom’s Texan cadence was what I heard the most. Before I knew it, my accent was locked into that of a watered-down American voice - which still persists today.

My American roots weren’t exactly forgotten. We would visit the States, periodically - usually for Christmas. It was easier to travel back then. I had a US passport, but I had permanent residence in Australia thanks to Mom marrying an Australian Citizen. I met my large family, on my Mom’s side. I would tell them how I stole Doritos from the cockpit on the giant Qantas plane we travelled on. 

Time passed. I turned 10.

Travelling to the States suddenly became a lot harder.

At home, people asked me if I liked George Bush. People asked me if I was visiting Australia for the holidays, based on my voice. People in the States asked if I rode kangaroos to school. People told me Bush was cool, he was a cool guy. 

I didn’t understand much about it. I preferred to play Pokemon Silver.

Time passed. My Mom and I had both lived in Australia for 15 years now. We had visited family over the years, but the visits were growing sparser. All the kids were growing up and separating off into their own lives and plans. 

(I would begin noticing raised voices over phone calls that I hadn’t noticed before.)

Mom and I had permanent residence in Australia. But we were given the opportunity to be Actual Citizens. Any application process was certainly going to be a series of hoops to jump through. Being underage, all I had to worry about was a swearing-in ceremony while my parents handled the rest.

I got an Australian Passport, with a photo I was not prepared for and a half-asleep 15-year-old stare that haunted me for several years. I was fortunate enough to have Dual Citizenship. The sky was the limit, in terms of my choice of residency.

I finished school. We visited the US again, this time on our Australian passports. 

Our American passports had long expired.

I would enjoy seeing family again. I would describe the trips to my friends back home. Or online. I would talk about my uncles, aunts and cousins as I walked with friends down George St. I would talk about how cute squirrels were and how cool bluejays were, when looking up at the rainbow lorikeets that shot through our suburb. 

Time passed. It got harder to travel.

My brother moved to the States. He’d fallen in love with a part of it - mostly its natural beauty. My Mom and I headed over to visit in mid-2016.

I would see a lot of the rock formations and trees and fauna that my brother had loved (and I loved in turn). I would see Black Canyon in Colorado. I would see the red formations that Utah was known for.

I would see many, many dead and dying towns out in the fields and desert next to the asphalt strip that cut through the lands. I would see those still standing with hundreds of Trump flags and banners held aloft and plastered on every side of those buildings as they were steadily reclaimed by the land.

I was 25.

I voiced my concerns to my Australian co-workers in November, once I’d returned. They laughed and said it would be entertaining for there to be a President Trump. And what were the odds of him actually getting in?

My brother headed back home to Australia.

Time passed. It got harder to travel.

Mom and I entertained the possibility of travelling again, once things settled down a bit. Regardless of who was in power, we had friends and family there. People who we wanted to see, places we wanted to go.

Time passed.

The Trump Administration adjusted many things. It was no longer legal for a US citizen to travel to and from the States on any other passport than a US one.

I had not travelled on my US passport since I was a child. Renewing it would place me on the radar of an administration I wanted little to do with.

We could have played the waiting game. Wait for a law to change. Petition for something to adjust. But even then, something had become glaringly obvious.

If I signed up for a US passport, I would sign up with everything else that came with being an adult in the USA. Obligations for a country that I didn’t live in.

For a country that I was born in, but never called home.

I am 31. 

I have spent the past week taking in a small part of Western Australia. Enjoying its beauty, seeing its red sand and sparse towns. Thinking deeply on the wonders this country has, and the endless problems it provides for people simply seeking a home.

Tomorrow, I’m going to the only US Consulate that isn’t booked out for the next few years in Australia. 

And together with my Mom, who brought me to this country, I am renouncing my US citizenship.

The USA was where I was born. I have family there. Friends, who are fighting for a better future for themselves and others, tomorrow.

People I would like to meet. And people I would like to see again.

In order to do that in a way that allows me more freedom, I have to give up that part of my identity on an official basis.

But America never really was my home to begin with. Maybe once, long ago in that state of New Jersey in my Mom’s apartment with her friends all cooing over me in my crib. But I don’t remember any of that.

My Mom grew up in the USA. It was her home up until I was born. She wants to live in Australia, maybe New Zealand - anywhere but the States.

I know this process will hit her harder than me. She lived there. I have always been a visitor. Any ideas of living in the USA have long faded.

But it will be strange to have a major part of my national identity adjusted, just like that. As well as all of what that entails. What I choose for that to entail. How I will process all that.

When I’m at work, people always hear my voice, and ask where I’m visiting from. I state that I live here. I’ve lived here for 30 years.

I don’t think they ever quite believe me. I don’t blame them. My accent isn’t Australian, even if I tried to mimic it.

“Where are you from?”

I was born in America. I have friends and family there. I visited many times. I have family there who I love. I literally cannot visit, right now. And a small part of me is mourning what could have been.

But I live here in Australia, now. I’ve lived here for 30 years. I went to school here. I grew up here. I have friends and family here, who I love. A partner, who I love. I find more and more things about this place that fascinate me, and problems that need attention.

This is my home.

And I have a lot of feelings about all that, right now.

[immigrant-rob]

The countdown to our departure from the swamp to the freezer of the world has started. Last week was my last week of work, and Naomi likes to now tease me saying I'm partially retired... So what do retired people do? Travel. When we were deciding where to go for our last trip on this side of the globe, we initially had planned for it to be in Europe. But after checking flight tickets and times, South Africa seemed like the place to go. Maybe the many friends that have recommended it also played a small role.

We arrived in SA on Thursday eve where we picked up our rental car and drove to our guesthouse.

Day 1 we hiked up Table Mountain via the Platteklip Gorge. Upon reaching the table we first hiked to the smallest and flattest peak I have ever seen. From there on we hiked along the ridge, which presented some stunning views of the city below to the cable cart that took us back down. After our hike we drove into town to visit a neighbourhood called Bo Kaap, where many of the houses are bright and colourful. This represents the event when slaves were allowed to buy their own houses and did not have to rent the standardized white houses they lived in before. When getting out of our car a guy approached us and told us he was our "parking attendant" for which a small donation was welcome. Being the poster boy tourist, tall, blond and white he must've seen his chance for which he was greatly rewarded. Because we didn't have any small change on us, he suggested going to the shop across the road to buy him some food. This turned out to be a months worth of peanut butter and oil totalling 8 euros, for what would end up to be a 30 minute parking session. Amsterdam parking tariff isn't that bad after all. Note to self, always carry small change for tipping. At least when we got back to our car the windows had not been smashed, tires not deflated and we could spread the Dutch love for peanut butter.

Day 2 was rainy and misty, so we decided to do our drive around Cape Peninsula that day. First stop was visiting a penguin colony, where we applied our learnings from the day before and tipped the parking attendant the appropriate amount. We continued our journey to Cape of Good Hope, where the rain stopped... and it started to pour. Unfortunately, visibility wasn't great, and the name "good hope" turned out to be false advertising as it only got worse. When leaving the park we ran into a wild zebra, which caught us all by surprise. Didn't zebras only live on the savanna far away from civilization? I was definitely not expecting to see one out here, but a comforting surprise to a day where the pouring had turned into hosing from the sky. On with the drive, we stopped at a local coffee shop in Scarborough where we ate the most delicious sweet potato wedges ever. That fries shop in Sydney Australia has been beaten and we proceeded on our coastal drive up north again. Halfway along we stopped for a hike up Chapmans Peak. Unsurprisingly, the peak was also covered in clouds, so we did half the hike and waited for the bay to clear up while hiding under a bush. Once it cleared up, the view was lovely.

On day 3 we got up at 5am to hike up Lion's Head to see the sunrise over Cape Town. Halfway up the view was clear and the city beautifully lit by all its lights. At the top the clouds rolled in again preventing us from a clear view of the city, but the sunrise was pretty nevertheless. We headed to the botanical gardens where we saw the most special plants so far only seen on National Geographics. We had lunch at the local foodmarket where I had a 500 gram serving of beef ribs from the braai. Lekker! In the eve we made good use of Brandon and Michaela's, our SA friends, Spurs giftcard to endulge ourself over a hearty meal. For me this time a 500 gram T-bone steak. Equally delightful was that we got to watch Arsenal beat Man Utd. 3-1 to send the reds to the right side of the table.

Coming up will be our 5 day roadtrip over the Garden Route, followed by 5 days in Kruger nation park where we DO expect to see zebras. Not too busy packing for our move yet. That will come after this trip.

[qnewsau]

Meet the man behind Brisbane's new queer bar Come to Daddy

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/meet-the-man-behind-brisbanes-new-queer-bar-come-to-daddy/

Meet the man behind Brisbane's new queer bar Come to Daddy

Billerwell Daye the owner of the new queer bar Come to Daddy, spoke to QNews about the new venture on Brisbane’s southside.

When walking into Brisbane’s new LGBTQIA+ venue, you’re greeted with a large neon “Daddy” sign above the door. There’s no mistaking which bar you’re at. 

Welcoming me at the front counter for our chat was Billerwell, the owner. He was wearing a black polo shirt and large black glasses while sporting a long beard with his arms covered in tatts. 

He isn’t the stereotypical “scene queen”, so I wanted to know why he decided to get into the business of opening up a queer bar. 

“Oh, it started a long time ago, started when I had my old bar John Mills Himself in the city,” he tells me. 

“So in the process of kind of winding that one down and doing another one, I basically wanted to feel comfortable behind the bar. It just meant that I could be at home and ease here, being an older man in a young hospitality kind of world.”

Finding the right place on Montague Road in West End took him around 18 months, with his main focus being the south side of Brisbane.

“We were predominantly looking around West End as there’s a bit of a hole on this side of the river. This just had the right vibe and there wasn’t really much over this side catering for the community,” he says. 

How queer is the venue?

Despite having a name like Come to Daddy it’s always good for the LGBTQIA+ community to know it’s a safe space for them, so I ask how he would describe the venue. 

“It’s an inclusive space, so I would say it is a queer venue but it’s not exclusively queer. We want the local community to be here. Whether they are a part of the rainbow family or not but it is for the queer community,” he explains.

“Being a gay man as well I wanted to feel comfortable and have somewhere for my friends to go because I have a lot of friends that were kind of discussing ‘Oh, I wish we had something else in Brisbane.’” 

The venue has got off to a great start with weekends particularly busy with drag nights and DJ sets. Throughout the week there is also live music, karaoke and a kitchen open at all times. 

  View this post on Instagram

  A post shared by Come to Daddy, Brisbane (@cometodaddy_brisbane)

Fabulous branding

The set-up works well for entertainment with a great view from every spot inside the bar. The stage itself has a backdrop of a fabulous stained glass window of the Come to Daddy branding. 

I ask where the branding came from and he tells me a French illustrator friend created it a few years ago and he took inspiration from it.

Although not his design, Billerwell himself created the stained glass window after completing a course and making it over four months under his house. An impressive feat!

Punters can also purchase merchandise from the bar with the illustration. 

  View this post on Instagram

  A post shared by Come to Daddy, Brisbane (@cometodaddy_brisbane)

Future hopes

I finished our chat by asking what he hopes in both the long and short term for the venue. 

“Long term want to be here for as long as I possibly can. Short term, just to be embraced by the community as we have been so far and able to host great nights and be a social club and safe space for the community.”

Follow Come to Daddy on Instagram @cometodaddy_brisbane 

Read next:

Sporties’ Neil McLucas honoured for hosting decades of drag

Meet Steven Fahd: The man behind Gold Coast’s new queer venue

Bernie’s Bar is Newcastle’s first LGBTQIA+ space in five years

For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news, entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.

[umichenginabroad]

Week 14: Beetroot, Bets, and Beats

G’day folks,

It's been yet another week of primarily studying. However, spending time on campus has its perks. The food selection right outside the library amazes me, particularly the cafe outside the lower food court. Sweet potato and beetroot salad have become my favorite dish. 

I’ve also found a deep love for the horse blinder-style cubicles in the back on the 2nd floor of the Main Library. They have a warm, bright light that falls on a rich green pattern. They also have the perfect width and depth to spread out your elbows and computer for any position you're inspired to pose in. I think it's obvious where I spend most of my time these days. 

If schoolwork didn’t feel like enough, another concern I’ve been managing is how I will spend my summer. On Wednesday, I spent nearly the entire day on LinkedIn and in professors’ research, and then I cold-emailed them for work or research opportunities this summer. 

I’ve found ways to break up the work this week, or instead, my friends have successfully dragged me out of my studying stupor several times for a change of scenery. On Thursday, my roommate Sam’s family invited us to their Airbnb for dinner and card games. They were visiting for the week and wanted to meet all the kids that have traveled and lived with their daughter. The hours passed quicker than they had in the past two weeks as we all reminisced on the months of travel and late nights that had brought us all so much closer than I think any of us could have imagined. 

On Saturday, I had the first blog-worthy day since Vietnam! We met Sam’s parents at Sydney’s Australian Turf Club (horse derby). The track and stadium are across from the UNSW campus and are a weekly spectacle. It was all our first derbies, so we put on the nicest clothes we owned (another first) and jauntily strolled through the gates. Then, far off in the distance, a man started energetically waving at us to exit and go around. We had walked along the driveway leading into the stadium, which was about a kilometer from the walking entrance. Anyway, we made it and had a blast people-watching. It felt like we had stumbled upon the high society of Sydney. Everyone was wearing suits and dresses and perceptive glances. 

We spent the day placing paper bets with the best names on the horses and enjoying the first sun of the week. We left towards the end of the derby and headed home for a nap. That night, we went out to Club 77 because people online were framing it as the best club in Sydney. It felt underground, but for a reason: the music was uninteresting, with the same few beats repeated for minutes that felt like hours. We left before we could sink any more time into that place and decided to try out Scary Canary. 

This club/bar had the best DJ I've ever heard at that place, and time had never flown by so quickly. Afterward, we all unanimously felt it was the best club we had been to; it's just a shame that we discovered it so late into our trip.

Thank you all for reading! I’ve got one last week of studying and submitting assignments before heading to Thailand. 

Take care,

Grant Touchette

Aerospace Engineering

University of New South Wales in Sydney, Australia

[smalllizardnamedfred]

Okay guys I’m putting this out here because I want to see if anyone would find it interesting. I’m writing a story and it’s sort of a fantasy. I think people who like the raven cycle would like it because the world building and overall vibes are kind of similar.

Just a quick little thing: This is all my work. I mean it’ll probably sound similar to some other books because that’s just how things are, nothings 100% original anymore, but if someone stole this idea and published it I would be utterly devastated. So please, don’t steal anything I post here. If it doesn’t get any notes within a week I’ll probably take it down.

Okay so it’s not set in some fancy new world, just Earth in sort of a parallel universe. In this universe, there are humans and regular animals just like ours, but there’s the addition of nonhumans, which are sorted into civilized, uncivilized, and unclassified.

The world map looks like this:

I didn’t include Antarctica because it wouldn’t fit on the paper and no one was gonna live there anyway in this world. Most of the continents are named differently. I used Latin Google translate to think of names because I’m in creative when it comes to that stuff.

We have Greenland and Europe, which are Septentrios and Europa. Also Australia, which are now the Forbiddenlands since it’s isolated and filled with nonhumans.

Africa and Asia, which didn’t undergo a name change.

And South and North America, which are West Africa and Transmara.

There are different ethnic groups in each continent/country.

There are also areas in a few continents like this:

These are the regions that are mostly inhabited by no humans, specifically uncivilized nonhumans.

The story I’m writing is set in Transmara, near the Forest.

Okay so the difference between civilized and uncivilized is sort of simple. Civilized creatures have complex language and are humanoid enough to socialize with human beings. These would be fairies, most sea or pond nymphs, and some fey. Uncivilized creatures are more similar to animals and tend to stray from humans with the exception of a few. That would be faeries, dryads, most other nymphs, giants, and tree devils. Unclassified would be creatures with the potential for either, like sirens and harpies. Halfborn hybrids between civilized creatures and humans aren’t uncommon, but frowned upon sometimes (especially in a certain region).

Okay, we got through all the world building.

The story I’m writing is about a 16 year old half-fairy, 17 year old half pond nymph, their legal guardian/brother figure, their best friend, and a handful of other people. The (mostly) main character, Lis, is visited by a creature with large eyes and a smile (Cheshire Cat style, without the whole floaty business) that tries to get her to come closer and follow it, which is a huge no-no near the Forest because you won’t come back. Lis runs away and over the next several weeks children go missing, including Lis and her sibling, Ri’s best friend’s younger brother. Their neighbor’s best friend goes missing, too, and they gather a group to find the missing kids. The story will switch POVs between the members of the group, Lis and Ri’s technical brother (woo subplot), and Lis’s potential girlfriend (woo, romance and internal struggle) but will mostly revolve around Lis, Ri, and Michael Blake (yes, that is his name. He goes by his first and middle name the entire book). Will they survive the perils of the Forest? Will they find the missing kids? Will Lis find answers?

I’ve already finished a first draft that I started in June and I’m working on the second now. This was gonna be a standalone but I had an amazing idea for a second and third book, each one focusing on a separate group of characters in a different region with the same antagonists (the main antagonist will change with each book).

Sorry for the long post! I’m gonna go ahead and tag this with the raven cycle because that’s sort of my target audience. Reblog if you’d read this.

[renatedagmarmilada]

IT'S HUMAN ENGINEERING

 it is all highly illegal he said

it is downright criminal he said

 they've been doing it secretly

kept secret in the States

 britain has blown it open

do we want Cybermen

 used for spite

friends of the lab

 stuff of comics now real

this is the big one, let’s go

 let's to it! they run media, arts, literature

G.M people are here to stay

 as others die for them

   Burn grief's Festival of Silence

 tonight there is the Festival of Lights

Burngreave is an asian area

it is the Festival of Ancient Europe

the asians are putting it on

 we're planting a tree or some trees

we international women artists

to counteract the pollution impact

of us sending work to Australia

 yesterday Axe man of the lab Miller

his operative wife and daughter Fay

all guaranteed success in the media

using my work are out off the machine

 each member of the lab has been guaranteed

got work from the computer which is me

and will rise to the top of that field

the German thugs are at it now

 the torture continues all night

this time the Germans and Claude

hence the visit torture is without guilt

on a machine only the victims suffer

 oh again they put the womb torture on old Hilda

she's eighty seven and saved hundreds of lives

but the lab misused her so she continues

for twenty long years to suffer

 It doesn't matter who saved whom

the Liberal Synagogue south London will ring

with joy as they murder the only ones

who helped them my faith in them is gone...

 but then I am recorded as a simpleton

maladjusted and weird and mother a criminal

just watch the visits of the Statesmen

you know what they are at!!

 and yesterday they put on the file

we checked she was a brilliant student

with whom we had played

children destroy their toys..

as concrete in the womb.

[amildlyspookydeer]

.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Christmas at the Hoods

You escape your family by going home with Calum to Australia for the holiday. And the escape is necessary, but at the end of it, you’re reminded that sometimes family is chosen rather than given. 

Reader Insert. Fluff a little bit of angst. You just a perfect amount of tear your heart out but then put it back like nothing ever happened. 

CW: Death of a parent, strained family relationships. 

Enjoy my masterlist. 

Support me on KoFi

__________________________________________

You stare down at the text from your mother. Are u coming home for Christmas? The truth is--no, you don’t want to come home. Home is too stiff, reminds you just how much you don’t fit. And maybe it’s just you, you thinking that you won’t ever live up to their expectations of what your life should be like, and maybe it’s not fair to them. But given all that, you still don’t want to subject yourself to that awful feeling, the squirming in your spot wondering how long is appropriate for you to stay before you dip the family pretend bonding.

You don’t want to go home. But you don’t have an excuse not to go. You sigh and place your phone face down on the counter. Ice clinks around in the glass that Calum sets down in front of you. Over the speakers faintly, you hear the twang and kick of guitar as Carla Thomas sings her conversation with an imagined other. At Christmas time, Calum gave you control over the speakers whenever you come over. He liked the Christmas music you had saved and even if he didn’t always get full on decorations the music helped the holiday feel a bit more real for the time you were over at least.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “That had to be the heaviest sigh I’ve ever heard.”

“My mom,” you reply, unlocking your phone and showing him the text. “I can’t exactly say, ‘No, I don’t have any plans. But I don’t feel like pretending to care so I won’t be coming home.’ Wouldn’t go over nicely.”

Calum stares down at the text. The exchange previous to this was a Happy Thanksgiving text that you replied to and prior to that it seems like the conversation was just your mother updating you about the changes she was making to the home office. To which you only replied with ‘Pretty!’ but nothing more. He always suspected you and your family weren’t that close. You talked pretty highly of your dad, but he passed away a couple years ago. And you and your mother just didn’t click. Any sort of sustained interaction always seemed to go south. He just hadn’t had a clue just how sort you kept your conversations with your mother.

He had plans to go home to Australia. His sister was flying in too, the first time he wouldn’t have to split his Christmas vacation time between London and Sydney. Calum knew for sure that Luke was going home to Australia too. He wasn’t sure about Michael, though if previous years proved to be any sort of pattern, Michael would be spending Christmas with his partner’s family. Ashton seemed to be tentatively planning spending New Years in Australia at the very least. Sure you had other friends but given the holiday, he suspected that they might be traveling home or spending time with their families.

“Come with me to Australia,” he offers.

“You leave in a week, tops? The cost of that ticket on it’s own is going to be fucking awful.” You take your phone as it’s handed back over, but you only focus in on him. There was no way he was serious about an offer like that. There was no way he was getting a roundtrip ticket for you under three grand. Tickets for that kind of travel months in advance were easily a grand or more. So there was no way Calum could guarantee a ticket for you round trip in a week for a reasonable price.

“I always told you I was going to take you home with me one of these days,” he counters. “Show you those Sydney streets I grew up on.”

You laugh at the way he bobs with his fists in front of his face like a boxer in the middle of the ring. “Yeah, when we could both plan it out and I could at least pay for my own airfare. I can’t Cal. I appreciate it and you. But that’s too soon and I can’t have you dropping money like that on me such short notice.” You take the glass from the counter and spin around in the barstool before traveling to the couch.

Calum drops his arms and follows behind. He’s not worried about money. That’s nothing. “I can’t leave you alone for the holidays. I know going home would just be rough right now. I’d-I’d come with you if you wanted.”

“Oh my god, Calum, no. Go home. You haven’t seen your mom and dad in ages. I’ll be okay.”

“If I cancel I can still get a voucher for another time,” he offers and settles onto the ottoman in front of you.

“Go home. See your parents. Give them a hug. Fucking hell, I’m not worth canceling a trip over. I’ll suffer through this Christmas like I have every other Christmas.”

With a tap to your knee, Calum shakes his head. “My friend absolutely cannot spend Christmas miserable. I won’t have it.”

You shake your head. It’s not like you haven’t had to spend every other CHristmas miserable--what’s one more to the list? Calum looks to the coffee table and spies his phone. He stretches out for it. This would be embarrassing to admit. He wasn’t going to do it like this. In all actuality, he had meant to ask you last week. But you had to out of town for a conference. He hadn’t realized the conference was this late in the year but it was one that you had been trying to get into for years, so when you landed the opportunity, Calum knew you’d take it in a heartbeat.

You take hold of the phone as it’s handed to you. “What’s this?” You ask but Calum remains silent and you glance down to the phone to see it opened to an app. “Why am I staring at trip information?”

“It’s because I bought two round trip tickets,” he returns.

“What do you mean you bought two tickets?”

“One of those is for you. If you want to go.”

You drop his phone into your lap and push to the edge of the seat. “When the hell did you buy these tickets?”

“A couple months ago. I knew the holidays were always a little rough for you.” He shrugs. “At least you won’t have to lie to your mum now.”

“Calum you are the most insane person I’ve ever met and I’ve lived with myself for a while now. When the fuck were you going to tell me?”

“I had plans to last week. But I remembered you were going out of town for that conference and I wanted you to focus on that since you had to present and be on a panel too.”

“How fucking early do I need to wake up?” you asks.

“I-I figured you come over the day before, sleep over and then I’d drive us to the airport.”

“It’s summer in Australia right now, correct?” He nods at your question. “Beaches?”

“If you wanna go, sure.”

“Do I get to say that I’m being kidnapped for Christmas?”

“If you really want to phrase it like that.”

“I’m in,” you agree and Calum smiles, wrapping his arms around you as you fall into him in a hug. “Thanks, Cal.”

“Of course,” he returns softly. He’d do anything for you, or just about anything if he’s honest. You matter to him and even if he does have to kidnap you for the holidays, he’s happy to do it if it means you won’t be miserable.

A couple hours go by and you head home, now having to start packing for the holiday trip with Calum. As you sit on the floor in front of your suitcase, you pick up your phone. You aim to go the weather app and see what it’s like in Sydney right now. But the text notification from your mom still lingers on the messages app. You tap on it and reply. No, Mom, sorry. Going to visit Australia for Christmas.

Who’s in Australia?

Calum’s family is there.

Who’s Calum? Is that the boy you talk about in the band?

“Fuck,” you mutter, realizing there were two ways this could go. You hadn’t ever really talked about your friends with your mother. Your dad knew and he filled her in a little bit, but even still you didn’t tell him a lot before he died. Mostly because you were afraid. What would happen if you told him everything and you needed help and he died? He’d be the only one to know and then he’d be gone. You’d have no one. So you told him half of everything. You told him about the band and some of your friends and you told him that you were doing okay. But you didn’t tell him that you were finally starting to figure what what you were meant to be doing on this earth. You didn’t tell him that you were dating around. Your dad only knew half the truth and now you realized all he could tell was half your truth to your mother. He could only convey what he knew and your mother didn’t always listen too well. She always got into her head what she wanted to hear and that’s the version she went with.

You can almost imagine your mother now, sitting on her couch tapping at the screen of her phone with one finger and looking up to the kitchen where your dad would usually be--and here, she would call out to your dad to ask Do you know about this Calum fella? They ever talk to you about ‘im? And your dad would reply in some sorts clipped and in half truths, Yeah, they’re friends or something. He’s got a good head on his shoulders from what I could tell. Because that what your dad would always say about any of your friends, that they always had a good head on their shoulders because he trusted you.

Your dad told you once that he said they always had a good head on their shoulders because you had a good head on yours and you’d never be friends with anyone that didn’t match morals like yours. He knew you’d never get mixed up in something that you couldn’t see yourself out of because he had raised you, because he had to trust you now; his fears couldn’t stand in the way of you living your life.

If you could tell your dad the whole truth, you would. You would tell him the first year after his diagnosis you lost yourself. You’d tell him that Calum had found you more than once on the edge of something dark and secured you to his chest for nights on end. He’d take you the studio with you just so you wouldn’t be alone. You’d tell your dad about the times you cooked all his favorites just so your house smelt of him. You’d tell him that even though you and your mother fought and you felt like you were always at arm’s length with some family, you always loved him. You’d tell him everything in full detail so that when he died, he would die knowing fully.

Yeah, you start typing to reply to your mother’s question, he’s the guy in the band.

Enjoy. But you should see family during this season too. Remember the ones that have been with you through thick and thin.

You don’t respond to the text. More than half of your mom’s side didn’t show up to the funeral. They never liked your dad all too much and you were slowly uncovering why. But no matter the reasons, it hurt. It hurt to walk with your mother down the aisle of that church to the funeral procession and seeing a halfway empty church because her side hadn’t supported the marriage. Your father was dead and the least they could do was show up to a fucking funeral. There’s no thick or thin in that, just them.

Another text buzzes through your phone. It’s from your aunt, on your dad’s side. We’re loving the pj’s! Nana’s rocking the new slippers and everything. Take care and rest. Wanna come by for New Years? We may be old but we can still keep up!

You laugh at the photo of your grandmother, sleeping as she sits on the couch, bundling up in the robe you also ordered for her. The new slippers are almost falling off her feet. That’s keeping up if I’ve ever seen it, you return. I might come by a little after New Years but I’ll bring the wine--you just bring the chips and dip. Going out of town for a little bit.

No worries! We’ll see you then. Chips and dip are stocked. Don’t you worry. Enjoy!

There’s a twinge--you almost want to stay just for them. But nothing feels the same anymore if you’re honest. When you hang out with your dad’s side of the family, there’s a hole. His seat is way too empty, even if you sit in. There’s no one to joke around. Your grandmother has no one to pass on her list of chores too besides finding people in town to help her with. And it’s not the same. They don’t laugh when she hands it over. They don’t joke that they only had a son just so he could do all the house repairs, or lawnmower repairs.

It has to be hard for them too. It’s all around just not a great time. But then in your peripherals you see your halfway packed suitcase, the swimsuits you’ve rolled up and tucked into one of the mesh pouches. Was this running? Or was this healing? Was going all the way to Australia just an escape? Maybe it was all three, but it was running into an escape but on the other side, there was some healing in it too. You continue packing, pulling out some loungewear and figuring how many pairs of jeans to include on this trip too.

You feel silly in your sneakers and leggings as more people filter into the terminal area from TSA in bulky coats. But Calum’s dressed roughly the same next to you, only in a t-shirt and sweatpants. Your phone shakes in your hands. Let me know when you land, your mother requests in the text.

Will do.

“Do your parents know I’m coming?” you asks, suddenly remembering that you will be in their place for three weeks.

“They know,” Calum returns, slouching down in the chair. “Trust me. Mum keeps asking me if you have any food allergies or dietary restrictions. And everytime I answer, she asks if I have checked in with you recently about it. And I have a feeling if you suddenly sprouted some new allergy, I would know by now.”

“That’s how moms are,” you laugh.

“Don’t be surprised if you find your favorite snacks just chilling in the kitchen.”

The thought of Joy going out of her way to find out via Calum about your favorite snacks and to only have them just in her cabinets or pantry makes you laugh but deeper than that you feel touched, chest warming just a little at the thought that she’d do something above and beyond. You slouch down to match Calum and rest your head onto his shoulder. “Is your childhood bedroom still embarrassing?”

A soft exhale of laughter pushes through Calum’s chest. “No, not too embarrassing anymore. Some of the posters are still up and mum’s changed the bedding for sure. A few of my things are tucked into the closet. But Mum’s said she’s been going through things in the house slowly so maybe she’s put more things on display just to set me up.”

You nod. “I imagine there are going to be lots of sports posters.”

“Ding, ding, ding,” Calum chimes, resting his cheek on your head. “I was supposed to be the sports kid. I mean, I was the sports kid for a really long time.”

“Then you found out you had those pipes,” you laugh, tapping on his chest.

“Yeah, then I realized music was a thing. Mali used to blast R&B and I mean blast it. But she’s always had great taste in music so it was never like the songs were bad. They were just loud. Sometimes I’d stay with Michael for as long as I could. Not that I didn’t want to be home, I just wanted to save my ears for a little bit before Mali and Dad would take over.”

“Your dad sings?”

“He’ll tell you only a little bit. But yeah, he sings.”

“So it’s a family trait!” you laugh. “A long line of singers.”

“Mum would disagree with you.”

You glance down and look at the initials inked into his skin. You brush your thumb over Joy’s. You had only heard about her. Once you saw her. Calum was calling home when you dropped by unplanned. It was quick, you waved at her from his computer but mostly you hang around in the kitchen, petting Duke as he wrapped up the call. From the way he talks about her, you know he’s close to his family. You know being away from home is hard sometimes for him. You’ve talked to Mali more, caught Calum a few times FaceTiming her too, or meeting her when she visited LA for his birthday. You know about his Dad too. Haven’t met him yet, but you’ve seen him when you watched the ARIA’s one year and he dad popped up in the crowd while the band performed. You screencapped the moment and send it as a reaction photo to Calum whenever he shares good news. You’re sure he must be sick of it, but he never says anything about your habit.

“There’s a little shop not too far from the house. I used spend hours to looking at all the trinkets. I think you’d like it,” he admits quietly.

“Yeah, I’d be down for that.”

“But first, there will be food,” he laughs just as the speakers overhead crackle to life and the voice faintly reminds everyone of the boarding procedure. You can Calum both stand, slinging backpacks onto your shoulders as you want for them to call group one to board. “Lots of food.”

“I’m ready,” you return.

Sleep on the plane isn’t all that restful, but you take it in stride though you manage to make progress in your book. Halfway through the flight, Calum holds out one of his earbuds to you. “You’ll like it,” he urges and you take the bud placing it into your ear.

Somewhere between the songs that Calum plays and the movie you’re not fully paying attention to, sleep claims you once again. And you let it hold you well past the light layer of sleep you had the first time. Sleep lays claim to you, holding you deeply into its grasps. You only find yourself waking up when the lights on the plane lift just a little and it breaks through your lashes and Calum shakes you awake. The two of you climb from your seats, backpacks on shoulders and wind through the airport to baggage. Thanks to the cat and dog luggage tags you bought, spotting your and Calum’s luggage is easy. Calum easy snatched the cartoon dog but you didn’t put up a fight. You let him have it, especially since it looked slightly reminiscent of Duke.

As you gather your luggage, you hear a voice from behind you. Calum turns to the sound of it immediately, his hand leaving the handle of his suitcase. You grab it for him and watch him, hearing his laughter escape him, as he runs up to his mother. “Mum,” he laughs, “hey!”

The hug looks bone crushing, only the hug a mom can give that even if it shouldn’t be tight is tight because there’s nothing like the squeeze. “Oh, my boy,” she grins. It lights up her whole face and you stand, just behind them, a couple feet off, both suitcases in front of you.

Joy spots you and the grin grows brighter. She releases Calum and shuffles up to you, arms still opened wide. “Hi! Look at you,” she greets. You immediately step out from the luggage. She’s warm and taller than you imagined as you hug her. She gives you a squeeze and your eyes water just a little. There’s something to the embrace that makes your chest tight and you find yourself clinging a little tighter to her too as she runs on about how late it is, and how hungry and tired you both must be. She keeps you close, an arm around your shoulders, hand splayed across your back. Joy pinches Calum’s cheek and wraps her other arm around his waist.

“C’mon, c’mon,” she urges. “David’s with the car. But I just couldn’t wait to see you both. Oh, it’s so good.”

Even as you exiting the plane it shocked you just how bright in the day it was still. But when you look down at your phone you realize you’re almost a whole day ahead, now standing in the middle of the afternoon, as if you somehow only flew a few hours instead of half the day. Calum’s dad is not parked too far from the entrance. As the three of you approach, he runs up some of the way with a large smile. “Aye!” he laughs, hands clapping Calum on the back. “Look at you!” “I swear I haven’t gotten any taller, Dad.”

“Coulda fooled me,” David returns. “Now,” he laughs, pointing to you. “I heard you got dragged along. Did ya put up a fight?”

“Less of a drag, more a kidnapping,” you return but step into the embrace with a laugh.

“Next time, next time, you’ll go a couple rounds with him, right?”

You nod. “Yeah, next time.” You don’t know if it’s going to be a next time but the idea sounds nice. Calum and David load up the suitcase into the trunk before all four of you slip into the car--you and Calum in the back.

“Hope they haven’t scared you off,” Calum whispers to you. You shake your head, mouth opening to say more but then David pipes up from the front seat. You almost don’t catch what he says, but Joy and Calum respond, so you stay quiet with a bit of a nod and watch the lights fade behind you as you travel down the streets. You make sure to text your mother that you arrived safely.

Calum’s room isn’t so bad, like he figured. Though you do almost wish there were a few more embarrassing posters on the wall. No sooner than the two of you can slip bags off and get out of shoes, a knock sounds from the door. It’s Joy, peeking her head inside. “Calum knows this, but you’re free to whatever’s in the house to munch on. I think there’s a few beer already cold too. But,” she waves her hand a little as if dismissing the thought. “either way, whatever’s there, you’re welcome to take.”

“Thank you, Ms. Hood.”

“Joy, call me Joy.”

“Thank you, Joy.” She nods and then slips back out of the room.

“They’ll be like that for another couple of days, but don’t mind them.” Calum shows you were the linen’s closet is and where the bathroom is too. “If you wanna shower first, I’ll whip up some snacks.”

“Oh, that’s some hard work putting together some snacks.”

He glares at you, throwing a towel at your head. You manage to duck it though it does land on your shoulder. You laugh as he flips you off and then heads to the kitchen. You head back to the room and grab a different set of clothes. It takes a moment to get the water right but you keep the shower as short as you can and slip into the clean clothes.

You return to the kitchen and find Calum with a plate of various chips, fruit snacks, and a small section of meat and cheeses out. He cracks open a beer just as you pad into the kitchen. “Want one?” he asks, but you decline the offer.

“It’s cozy,” you say softly looking around the living room and kitchen of the house. Even Calum’s room teleports you. You’re not sure where just yet, and even though it’s obviously a whole different continent there’s something about the house, about seeing Calum’s family so visibly happy to have him back home and the genuine smiles that feels like a warm blanket straight from the dryer. It envelopes you.

Calum shrugs a little. To him, it’s just familiar and a tad foreign. Like he can’t remember if the paintings are the same ones from his last visit but the pictures of him and Mali have never changed. The family vacation photos still line the walls too--unwavering it seems even against all of his mum’s decorating attempts. “Once Mali comes into town, it’ll feel complete,” he states. You wonder how any of this could feel incomplete, but don’t voice that curiosity.

Calum runs up to shower next and in the middle of your munching, Joy returns to the kitchen too. “I’m surprised you’re still standing upright.”

“Oh I could fall over at any point. Keep an eye out.”

Leaning into the counter she nods. “Time zones are killer. I’d say try to make it through as much of today as you can and then zoink out later on. Might be easier to adjust to the time that way.”

“I’m hoping,” you say.

“Calum told me you went to a conference last week. How’d that go?”

“It went well. Slight tech issues with my presentation but we managed to pull through unscatched after that.” You talk a little bit more about it, but are aware that you feel like you're rambling. When you ask her a few questions, she’s more than willing to answer them but she keeps them short and instead asks you more questions too.

“As the best friend, I feel like I need embarrassing material. Do you have photos of baby Calum?” you ask after a bit.

“Of course I do. He asked for some for a video once and I scanned over the most neutral ones. But if you want embarrassing photos, I got ‘em,” she laughs, wiping the salt off her fingers from a chip and waving for you to follow her.

Calum returns the sound of laughter and you cooing about something, he thinks you might’ve mentioned chubby cheeks and he knows without a doubt it’s him. “If you are going to embarass me I’d like to be in the room,” he states, seeing the photo album open on your lap. He steps to the arm of the couch you’re near and watches you flip through a few pages. You pause at a couple and pull your phone out to snap a few pictures of the picture. He doesn’t miss the several messages still lingering on your notification screen from your mother.

It’s over dinner that Joy suggest putting the tree up over the weekend, since Mali will be in town at that point too. No one objects to this plan and the latter half the week you and Calum spend mostly trying to adjust to the time change, though Calum seems to be having an easier go of it than you. Mali is licked up from the airport and you linger behind knowing that there’s not quite enough space for all three of you in the seat. It’s a little strange to be lingering around in Calum’s old room at his mum’s house but it’s not to bad. You take in all the sports posters, notice some medals and trophies still hanging around to otherwise bare shelves. Among them are some photos too--mostly of Calum and the guys. A few of some people you’ve never seen before and you assume they’re friends from soccer, or other sports along the way.

The sound of laughter echoes around you. Though you do hold onto one photo of Calum. He’s in a jersey, arms thrown over the shoulders of two other boys. They smile wide and big at the camera. The grassy fields hold blurry people and you like to imagine in that blur there are parents hugging kids, or kids running to their parents. There are coaches, people shouting in those blurs. The sounds of feet on stair should break you out of your trance staring down at the photo and you hear more laughter too. But you continue to stare down at younger Calum.

Calum tries to catch onto Mali’s wrist. “Do not! God,” he huffs when she slips through his hold. She laughs, backpack still on and barrels past her old room to Calum’s. You’re standing halfway turned to the door, but still clearly engrossed in something.

“Hey,” Mali huffs out, slipping just inside the cracked door. “Have you found the good blackmailing photos yet?”

You jump just a little but lift your gaze and find Calum’s sister beaming brightly at you. “Hi,” you return with a laugh. “I found a few. Your mum broke out the photo album.”

“Good,” she returns. “Sorry for kicking you out of the arrival party. It’s not normally five of us.”

“No, no, it’s cool. I couldn’t necessarily swing a vote on voting Calum out, so, I just took that blow.”

She gives a light tuft of laughter and hisses just a little. “Yeah that’d be a little hard to swing. But I’ll teach ya a few pointers for next time.”

“I’d appreciate that,” you return and Mali excuses herself to drop off her bag. Everyone seems hooked on the concept of a next time. It falls easily from their lips and while you’ve enjoyed the time here thus far, next time isn’t on your mind. Honestly, you’re not sure what’s on your mind besides not thinking about the text messages you need to respond too. Most of them seem to be about making sure you’ve adjusted to the time difference, if you’ve seen anything exciting. And you want to tell her--but you know you’d most likely tell her half truths too. Possibly even quarter ones. So you’ve opted to tell her nothing really. It seems trivial to explain to her that you’ve gone out a couple times--to the beach and the shop that Calum mentioned earlier. Most of the time though, you spend with Calum going down his memory lane. You rode past the school’s he attended, saw all the spots he used to hang out. Those don’t feel like the spots your mother is looking for.

When the Christmas tree is unearthed and Joy brings out the decorations you don’t think about those text messages again. You instead help feed the garland around the tree to Calum who’s standing at the back of the tree and he passes it along to his mon and she passes it to Mali and Mali passes it back to you. And that’s the way it goes for the lights too. Once those are put up, you look over the bulbs that Joy has. Behind you Calum and Mali are already working to put the hooks through the box Joy approved. You’re trying to help her find the last box in that set.

“Short end, Calum. Short end is what you hook through the top of the bulb.”

“Which end is short then?” you hear him return.

“That end,” she laughs. “I’ll put the hooks. You put them on the tree. Don’t put the same colors close together. Space them out.”

“I can decorate a tree,” Calum states.

“Sometimes I wonder.”

You find the last box of bulbs in the matching set, under a layer of icicle like ornaments. “Found ‘em,” you tell Joy and she beams, stopping her work on the box she was digging in.

“Ah! I’m not sure how they got separated.”

“Someone packed them wrong,” Mali returns, focused in on hooks still. “Most likely,” she counters. You step over to her and help prep more ornaments. A few look homemade with popsicle stick and felt. You pause looking at them on the table.

“Made ‘em in primary,” Calum answers, picking up the ornaments you’ve already hooked. “I thought Mum would give up on bringing them out.”

“But I never have and never will,” she counters picking them up and proudly displaying them on the front of the tree.

Calum makes a show to wave his hands. “That.”

“You made them and I cannot not display them,” Joy laughs and takes the bulb you’ve prepped.

“I think it should be the star,” you tease.

“Do not give Mum any ideas,” Calum groans. “She needs zero ideas.”

“My dad would put mine near the star. I used to hate it too,” you offer.

“Because he was proud of them! See, it’s a parent thing,” Joy laughs, taking another ornament.

You don’t respond, giving a shrug. Maybe it’s a parent thing. And maybe it’s just a love thing, you think. Maybe putting your atrocious ornaments near the top was a way your dad was saying you were always near the top, he was always thinking of you first. When you blink the silver hooks blur for a moment and it hits you that you might be crying. So you blink again and the tears don’t completely clear.

Arms are around your shoulder and you think it’s Calum but as you turn into the embrace, you notice it’s Joy. “Hey, it’s okay,” she offers. She’s quick to scoot you over to the other end of the living room and hands you a tissue. “Do you want to keep on decorating? You can take a breather.”

“No, no, I’m okay.”

“As long as you’re sure.” Her hand runs a soothing line up and down your back. You can only nod. It takes another moment and a deep inhale before you find a resolve. Joy takes your spot hooking the ornaments and you hang one up on the branch. You’re not even sure if Calum and Mali noticed your quick time out, but they don’t seem to be visibly concerned. You finish the tree half an hour later--many ornaments had to rearranged after realizing the back hadn’t gotten nearly enough love. You snap a photo and you don’t think too much about sending it to your aunt and your grandmother, but you hover over your mom’s contact.

Would she think you’re betraying? Would she find some way to say that you could’ve been home decorating the tree too and that she could’ve used the help since Dad wasn’t around anymore? You don’t hit send. Instead you lock your phone, place it face down and ask Joy if she needs or wants any help cooking dinner. She waves you in happily, explaining the dish she’s preparing to you as you wash your hands. This is easy. This feels complete, listening to the sounds of the TV in the background. Knocks at the door don’t make your heart startle and you almost know, without looking, that it’s David. And he no doubts has an armful of things--food, drinks, and god knows what else.

“Do-do you mind me asking about your mom?” Joy brings up as you tend over your hot pan.

“I,” and all words have fallen from your brain. “I don’t know,” you answer. It sounds so stupid but it’s the truth. The whole truth. “I don’t know how I feel. I-I wouldn’t be upset, but there may or may not be a reason I’m hiding on the other side of the world.”

It’s a small laugh, but a laugh nonetheless that Joy gives. “You know, fair. It’s okay if you don’t know. Instead, we’ll knead dough,” she offers, “or whatever else we need to do.”

“I’ll take kneading dough.”

There’s a nod and a smile, an understanding that kneading dough is the best alternative. The sleeves to your hoodie start to slip down again and just before you can clear your hands from the flour to pull it up, two hands come from the side. Calum, you deduce. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Did Mum put you to work or did you volunteer?”

“Volunteered,” you answer and go back to kneading the dough. The fridge door opens and then closes a few seconds later.

“You’re a guest. You don’t have to you know?”

“I know. Just need to do something.”

“Besides not answering your mom’s texts.”

“Besides not answering my mom’s texts,” you agree. Calum reaches across the counter and grabs your phone. You gave him the passcode ages ago and shockingly he remembered it. “Gonna delete the embarrassing photos?” you tease. You already emailed yourself copies just in case you tried too.

“Nah, no need. You’d just find a way to get them again.” You watch him for just a moment open up the app and the picture of the tree is still loaded in. “Why didn’t you send this?”

“Because I didn’t want her bitchin’ to me about how I could’ve been doing that with my real family. I would rather decorate a tree with you and your family anyway. Just as real as anything else,” you huff out, pushing in a little harder into the dough.

Calum pauses for a moment, glancing over to you. He’s not even sure his ears actually heard what you are saying. “What?” he asks in an exhale.

“I’d rather spend legit any holiday with you.”

He stops you, a hand on your wrist. “Did-did you just admit that you’d spend any holiday with me and my family?”

“Do you want bread or not?” you ask and he releases your wrist. “But yes, I did admit it.” You look up from the dough, knowing you’ve worked well enough for you to be done. The Christmas tree twinkles from the corner and it’s nice to see a family together--there’s no arguments, no need to feel like you’re at arm’s length. The TV plays and it’s idealistic. It’s what you want, not the screaming that occurs on most holidays, no one too drunk off their ass, no one being kicked out.

“I like it here,” you admit softly. Christmas is about five days out and you still need to wrap Calum’s present. It’s currently hiding in your suitcase and you want to get something nice for his parents for hosting you, and you’re not entirely sure what to get Mali but you want to do something nice for her too. Calum doesn’t miss the way you stare, the longing in your gaze as you’re still knuckle deep in dough. “I could send the photos to Dad. He’d probably just send a thumbs up. But, still it would’ve been better.”

“Then send it to him.”

“Mom disconnected the line. I have no clue who has the number now.”

“Send it anyway. Whoever it is, probably wouldn’t mind.”

You shake your head and look down at the dough. It’s done and you place it back into the bowl. The idea is asinine to you. No stranger would be okay with getting a random text about a Christmas tree you decorated and whatever sob story you’d type out. Best not to bother a stranger. Even as Calum tries to urge you one last time, you don’t give in. You move about the kitchen as if you’ve always worked in and wash your hands. It doesn’t take you long before you settle onto the couch next to Mali.

I know this might be strange, Calum starts drafting. But my best friend lost their dad about two years ago and this is his old number (this is their number and they still has the number saved). I took them to see my family for Christmas since they and their mom and that side are in a rough spot. I say that like it hasn’t been years of a rough spot but they helped us decorate the tree. I don’t know who’s going to see this, if it’ll go through or not, but I’m hoping for a miracle, I guess, for kindness in the universe and kindness in a stranger. They just needs something good, so we hope you enjoy our Christmas tree. They told my mum about how their dad would put the homemade ornaments near the star. Needless to say my mum agreed with the idea.  If you see this, and get the picture, I hope you have safe and happy holidays.

Calum doesn’t even think twice about hitting send on the message. He finishes pouring himself a glass of water and pour another one for you too. By the time he grabs a snack too your phone buzzes again. There’s a response from the number that once belonged to your dad.

Tree looks awesome, kid, reads the first message. And then another one follows it. Homemade decorations near the top are the only way to go. Hope your friend gets through the holidays safely, but with people like you in their life, we think they will. Happy Holidays and enjoy our tree too. A picture comes attached with it.

Calum leaves the response up. It works out perfectly that the first response sits directly under the picture Calum sent. The first part of the second text is still visible but he doesn��t worry about that. He taps on your shoulder. “The world’s not so bad after all,” he states.

It takes you a moment to realize who the message is under. And you know it’s not actually your dad. You know that line went cold months ago.Your dad didn’t call you kid too much else he was trying to annoy you.  But it’s something about seeing a message from that number that makes your chest ache. For a split moment in time, he’s real again. A sob racks through your chest and you're quick to cover your mouth, aware that other people are around. “I should’ve told him so much more,” you gasp and another sob breaks the sentence up just a little at the end. But all you can do is stare at the response with blurry vision.

Calum wraps you into his arms, pulling you into his chest. “Hey, you can still tell him. Maybe not by texting this number but you can still tell him,” he whispers. And though you tremble against him, he manages to get you to the shelter of the stairs. You settle oddly on top of him, your legs draping over his and your cowered into his chest mostly. But you don’t object to the arrangement.

Joy places a box of tissues down next to you both and settles on the step just below Calum. Her hand is warm on your knee. “I thought you were kneading dough.”

You chuckle just a little but tremors still rock you. “Dough didn’t have a lot of resistance.”

She nods, tsking just a little. “Ah, next time I’ll have you knead two loaves.” Once she’s sure you’ve cried it all out, she leaves you be, though most of her comfort was soft reassurance and knee pats. But it’s just what you need.

Calum guides you upstairs and unearths his journal from his bag. Or at least a journal you think you’ve seen him writing in before. “I was going to give this to you on Christmas. But it sounds like you could use it now. Whatever you wanted to tell your dad, write it down. Pretend like your writing letters to him. I know know it might sound silly, but it helps me.”

The journal is leather, embossed on the front are your initials. It almost looks too expensive to even write in it, but when Calum hands you a pen you think you might explode again if you don’t get it off your chest. So you settle onto the edge of his bed, which is barely just enough space for two of you to sleep on during the night and tell your dad all the full truths. Everything you felt like he couldn’t take the grave, you spill onto the page.

Dad, It’s Christmas. Or it’s nearly Christmas. I’m in Australia with Calum and I’ve already had one emotional breakdown. So we need to reset the count on that one. It’s hard without you. Joy put Calum and Mali’s old homemade decorations near the star of the tree and all I wanted was to be six again and be up on your shoulders and have you force me to put my decorations up high on the tree for everyone to see. I used to hate it. When you did that. But now I miss it.

I miss a lot of things, I guess now. I miss being honest with you. I wasn’t very honest while you were dying. I was afraid that I told everything I’d be weak. That if I told you everything you’d take all the words with you when you died and I wouldn’t be able to tell anyone else since it would’ve been one of the last things I told you. It all sounds silly now to write it down, but that’s what I thought.

Here’s the other half I never told you.

Calum lingers, sitting on the floor and finding one of his old guitars sitting on the floor tucked into a corner. He slides over, and places it into his lap before strumming mindlessly over it. The scratch of the pen is hardly audible as he strums but he can envision what it sounds like, see how fast you’re scribbling words down onto the page.

Later in the week, as you have Mali and Calum helping you find a gift to give their parents, you stop at one of the small shops in the mall. Mali’s wandered off to the far corner but Calum’s close next to you, glancing around the walls for something that looks remotely interesting and appropriate. The housewares all look too dated and Calum’s not even sure what his parents do and don’t have to even suggest something like this. But Mali thought it might be a good place to stop so the three of you stopped to look.

“Thanks,” you say to Calum, running a finger over a serving spoon. “For the journal. It helped a lot.”

“You’re welcome,” he beams at you. His attention is still filtering around the store. “I have no clue what to even suggest in a place like this for my parents. They’re not super into stuff like this.”

“You sure a Kiss The Cook apron wouldn’t do the trick?” you joke holding up the red and white apron.

“Hmm, afraid not,” he laughs. The two of you still wonder about the store and you find a couple cookbooks that seem interesting. One’s for cocktails and Calum says it’s a definite--his dad would enjoy flipping through it. Neither he or Mali had gotten one for him before, so it won’t be a duplicate.

“Your mom has a lot of photos you guys. You think she’d be into something like this?” you ask, pointing out to a few picture frames. They’re all collages, just arranged differently. Calum seems to be vaguely interested though Mali worries about the fact that she tends to keep them in a particular way.

“Could make one with the photos you’ve taken over this trip, she loves stuff like that and I’m sure she wishes she could get more photos of us now since we’re gone. We spend a day taking some photos in front of our old stomping grounds and I know she’d love it,” Calum offers looking over to Mali.

She shrugs. “That could work. Sure we can’t say it was from all of us?” she jokes.

“I wouldn’t mind, especially since you two would be doing some leg work in it,” you state.

“If we’re going to do it,” Mali counters. “Let’s go with this one.” She points to a wooden slab with rows of twine wrapped around and clasps that are wooden too where stock photos are currently pinned but it’s clear that you can add your own photos.

“This really blows my flowers out of the water,” Calum mutters, holding onto the paid for box of the wooden frame.

“You also got her the embroidered pillow,” you counter. The pillow has the coordinates of Sydney, LA, and London on it--for each of the cities they’re in respectively.

“True,” he nods. “But still,”

“If you don’t want--” you start but he cuts you off.

“Hey, no, I want to do this. Shush,” he laughs. “We gotta make another stop though. I’ve seen ads for those portable printers and can print photos and I don’t see either one of you with those old school polaroid cameras.”

“I’ll have you know,” Mali teases. But she interrupts her own joke as a ponderous hum falls from her. She rattles off a couple stores that could have it.

“Let’s give it a shot,” Calum returns. The first store is a bust but the second one has it. They grab one of the last ones off the shelf and scurry to the lines. They’re long and it’s no avoiding it two days from Christmas. The rest of the day, Mali navigates, pulling over into random parking lots and telling stories about their childhood.

You snap as many photos as you can. Some are more planned than others but it’s okay. You play with angles, flipping your phone upside to get some cool shots and you’re honestly impressed with the quality of just a cellphone camera. By the time it starts to get dusk, you’re half convinced your phone will alert you that you’re almost out of space. It’s not too hard to sneak the bags up to the bedrooms. You take up distracting Joy just a little as Calum and Mali book it up the steps.

“Oh, this reminds me,” Joy says standing right as Mali clears the first step. “If you need any sort of wrapping supplies they’re in here,” she directs you down the hall and you watch Calum and Mali clear into one of the bedrooms, you think it’s Mali’s before diverting your attention back to the wrapping paper.

“Thanks,” you nod at her. “I’ll be down in a few if you want help with dinner?”

“An extra pair of hands never hurt,” she counters with a grin and it’s become a tradition, or a thing at the very least that you help her with dinner and she’s given up on trying to shoo you out of the kitchen.

You take the stairs slowly, but you can feel the buzzing in your pocket. No doubt Calum bugging you relentlessly that you’re needed upstairs. You find them in Mali’s room situated on the floor as she removes the pictures from the frame and Calum seems to messing with the printer.  “Thank you for joining us,” he teases. Music starts up and the door closes.

You settle on the floor next to him. “My job was to distract so that’s what I did. What do I need to do?”

“Pairs with BlueTooth, so I just gotta get this thing on.”

“Let me know when it’s up,” you return and then pull up the photos you took on your phone. Mali helps pick out which photos have to go onto the frame. It’s only a minute or two later that Calum tells you to make sure your phone has the BlueTooth turned on.

“You cannot use that,” he laughs, as the first photo prints out. “I look so dumb in that take.”

Mali laughs. “Oh, c’mon it’s a pretty shot.”

“Yeah of you,” he returns.

You swipe to the next photo and there are no photo blunders for either one of them so you print that one down. Some are in front of buildings that you’re not even sure could mean anything. A couple are of Calum’s old practice field for soccer--the same one from the photo you were looking at when Mali first arrived. There are a few of Mali in front of the place she sang to a large audience for the first time. There’s a picture of the Christmas tree as well--Mali and Calum are in the photo adding decorations to it. There’s one of you, in the middle of Calum and Mali, arms wrapped around each other. You’re laughing because even standing you nearly stumble just trying to shift your weight a little, but the picture is perfect as the sun just starts to step a little behind you.

With the last photo printed, you look over the arrangement and give your approval. “Did you remember to grab our wrapping paper?”

“Shit,” Calum sighs. “I’ll run to the car and grab it.” You nod and head back downstairs just in time to help Joy.

It’s late before another opening arrives for you three to place the gift under the tree and during this time you also add Calum’s and Mali’s gift to the bunch. You managed to snag some cool t’s with Calum’s help for her. She eyed them in your shopping adventure and carted them around the store before ultimately deciding to put them back. Calum stayed behind to grab them off the rack while you went with her to the next store.

Over mugs of hot chocolate--though the Australian heat doesn’t warrant it-- you, Mali and Calum sit on the floor in front of the tree. “It’s been nice to outnumber him,” Mali laughs.

“I’m already outnumbered with you and Mum,” he retorts.

“Yeah, but it’s Mum. She counts but like not really. Now you’re outnumbered by someone in our age range.”

Calum shakes his head. “If you say so. I’m glad Mum and Dad weren’t too weird about it.”

You know he hasn’t brought anyone home in a long time. And part of it is probably just time, but another part is deliberate but you don’t know why. “I’m sure they were starting to think I wasn’t real,” you joke.

“Haha,” Calum gently shoves your legs. “You’re a fucking comedian.” You snicker and take another sip from your mug. The night almost doesn’t feel like it’s slipping away as Mali and Calum take turns on the guitar. You climbed up onto the sofa at some point during the night, asbentedmindly playing in Calum’s hair. But somewhere in it the strumming, sleeps pulls you under, you felt your eyes blinking close but weren’t able to recall when the final blink took you full under.

You find yourself startled awake to the sounds coming from the kitchen. Mali’s asleep on the couch, facing the opposite away of you. Calum’s reclined against the sofa between the both of you but still sitting on the floor. There’s a faint light coming from behind you and you squint against it to see the kitchen light’s on. You settle back against the arm of the couch and let yourself fall into sleep a second time.

When you wake the second time, it’s to gentle shakes and you’re not even sure you had fallen asleep again. Until you find yourself stretching again and blinking back the light of the living room. Calum’s slumped to the floor. “No, five more minutes.”

Joy chuckles. “It’s your presents you’ve gotten open.”

“Hmm, maybe I’m awake enough for presents.” Presents are slow to be handed out, mostly to the three of you still trying to wake up. But Mali gets the first tear into the wrapping paper and beams over at you spying the two shirts.

Joy loves the pillow from Calum and the jacket from Mali. Calum gets a few things, most of them necessities but the socks are cool enough to put on immediately. Mali’s content with the clothes she’s received and the necklace. Calum thought about wrapping your journal as a joke but he hands you a tiny stocking stuffed with some candies, a cool pen, and some knicks knacks he found during some of the shopping adventures. David’s tickled as he flips through the cocktail recipes.

“What is this?” Joy laughs pulling on the wooden and twine picture frame ad she’s handed it.

“For you,” you answer. “A collective effort between the three of us.”

“But originally their idea,” Calum tacks on.

Joy looks at the three of you, unsure of what trick might be pulled. She unveils the first corner and pauses. “Seriously, what is this?”

“Just keep going Mum,” Mali counters.

Joy continues tearing at the wrapping paper and she gasps for a moment noticing the photos hanging from the pins. “No way,” she laughs, lifting it up to take a closer look at the photos. “No way,” she whispers.

“The pictures can be switched out, so you can frame some, or just rotate it based on the season,” you explain.

The tears collecting in Joy’s eyes don’t get past you but they do hurt just a little. In a good way. You hadn’t seen a teary eyed smile like Joy’s in such a long time you almost forgot how good it felt, but how much it hurt too.

“You did all this for me?” she asks.

“I had help,” you return. “But I wanted to do something or give you something nice for hosting me the past two weeks and agreeing to take on an extra mouth to feed. It’s a thank you.”

She gives you another one of those hugs that squeeze more than they should, more than thought possibly. You squeeze in return and though you feel a couple tears slip down your cheek, you aren’t so afraid of the emotion. It’s something like loved, maybe it’s understood. Quite possibly it’s just the feeling of being embraced without judgement or restriction. You’re not really sure, but you do know you like it.

“Thank you,” Joy whispers while still hugging you. She makes space for the frame almost immediately though it takes a little rearranging of the living room but she finds the space. You’re sucking on a piece of candy, looking down at your phone. You know your mother is still living in Christmas Eve and the only message she’s gotten from you are about you being safe and okay.

I would send this as an actual letter, but I worry from Australia to home would take too much time. So I guess this works as next best. I can only hope you understand.

The easy things: Australia’s been fun. Haven’t run into a spider as big as my head just yet but there’s still plenty of time. Calum’s family has been amazing. I helped with Christmas decorations. Joy and I are cooking buddies. If I never had to leave, I probably wouldn’t.

And on and on you go about the tails of this particular vacation before getting to the hard stuff, how it’s hard sometimes to be home because home feels empty and too far away and how it’s hard sometimes to feel like you fit in the puzzle of it all. You tell her how hurt you are seeing how her side paid the death of your father dust. How nothing’s felt right once and you don’t know what caused it. You don’t know how it started but all you do know is that when dad was around, when you and him had those quiet moments it was closest to right you had every experience until now--sitting in your friend’s childhood home in a whole different country, more than half the day ahead of your own family and watching someone else’s world that you know you’re not really apart of but somehow you fit even as a stranger.

There’s that nagging voice in the back of your head that tells you this could all go to shit. Your mother could read all this and blow her top. But at least she would blow her top knowing the truth and the whole truth at that--that you love your family for being your family but recognizing the detriment happening.

I need you to know Mom. Because Dad didn’t. Or maybe he did, but I know I wasn’t the one that told him. So I am telling you. You don’t have to like it. You don’t have to like any of this and I’m not asking you or telling you you have to. But you have to know the truth and I have to tell you.

Before I go, there’s a present for you. Hidden in the top box of Dad’s stuff in your closet. It’s only tiny pieces of me and him, of us, but I hope you enjoy it. I hope it provides comfort.

While you’re not the most crafty, you know your way around a sewing machine. You didn't keep nearly as many t-shirts from family vacations as you would’ve liked to, hanks to a couple moves. But you kept enough and you snagged a few of your dad’s t-shirts and some of his old flannels too. All together it made a decent sized blanket--it could’ve been larger but there were a few failed starts before you got the true hang of it.

You’re not sure the whole message will send correctly and you think maybe it should’ve been an email, but that feels even less personal. So you watch the message lift up, hover for just a moment before it settles down and just beneath it, Delivered, pops up. Immediately, you place your phone face down. A watched pot never boiled and a watched text is never actually read.

“Calum!” Mali laughs. Just behind you they go barreling past, through the living room and he tries to make an escape up the steps but she manages to lunge fast enough to take hold of the back of his t-shirt. “Drop the cookies and no one has to get hurt.”

“Never!” he cries in return. His attempts are half hearted and you can only giggle watching them. That in turn earns you target as a potential accomplice and he calls out to you to get you to take the cookies and make an escape.

You walk over, take the packet of cookies. They’re decorated for Christmas and you decide take one off the top is fair pay for whatever mess you’re stepping into. After your take the first bite of your cookie, you hand the packet over to Mali who happily release Calum to snag a couple. “Traitor,” Calum returns, but takes another cookie too.

“I got my pay,” you laugh, polishing off the one cookie in your hand.

David enters then, taking another cookie too. “I got mine too,” he laughs before disappearing again back down the hallway. There are a few things around the house he needed to repair and Calum had been helping him though you suspect more than helping, Calum was sneaking cookies and trying to hide them from Mali. You offered to help too, but David insisted that you actually take a rest at least once during this time away.

You manage to catch the buzz over all the laughter. You don’t think your mother could’ve responded that fast. It’s not possible. But you slip away from the group and grab your phone from the couch cushions. Your heart hammers against your ribs, you can feel the vein in your neck throbbing.

Thank you for the blanket. It’s quite lovely. Glad you’re enjoying Australia. I don’t know if I can say sorry and have it mean much. But in turn, thank you for telling me the truth. Somehow you expected this to be much more emotional, much more earth shattering. But tides don’t change in the blink of an eye and cities don’t build themselves in a day.

“We should have a board game night,” Mali suggests from behind you. “Dunno know. Not much will be open up for long.”

“I’ll kick your ass in Scrabble,” Calum returns, “Anytime.”

And just behind is all you’ve ever really wanted. But just in front of you is all you’ve ever had, your mother and the distance. Maybe it’s not a matter of what you deserve or what is actually yours by blood. Maybe it’s just time to admit that family is also chosen. And you did all you could with your mother. You told her the truth.

A tear splashes onto your screen and you wipe at your eyes quickly. When had those formed? They didn’t even sting that time or maybe they did and you just hadn’t felt it. You’re not sure. Her message doesn’t warrant a response. Though you do imagine for a moment, her curled up on the couch, your blanket across her lap as she snacks on pistachios and the fireplace blazes next to her. The TV is playing Polar Express, her favorite Christmas film. And if the scene is sad, your mother is sad. And if the scene is happy, your mother is happy. And you like it better that she is tethered to the film’s emotions rather than anything going on outside of it.

“You down for a board game night? If not, we can find something else.” Calum’s voice is close and you can feel just how close is he off to the side of you.

“I’m down for a board game night,” you nod. Your voice quivers just a little. Crying is exhausting and you’d wish you had nothing left, but there is always the dregs left. Just enough to make your cheeks wet.

“You good? What’s up?”

“Told my mom,” you answer truthfully.

He figures it didn’t go super well given your silence.  “We can watch movies in my room then.”

“She didn’t threaten to blow up the country so I think we’re good,” you continue on. “But she loves her Christmas present. So I’ll take it as a win.”

“It’s the small victories.”

You nod, looking at the photos hanging right next to the Christmas tree. “Like kicking your ass in Scrabble,” you laugh. “I’m on Mali’s team.”

“Fighting words, those are fighting words. I brought you out here and you already turned over my cookie stash. Now you’re going against me in Scrabble! Really?”

“I’ve chosen you over and over,” you admit quietly. You’ve chosen him as a friend, and confidante and you appreciate him for being there. But you don’t say all that, instead you counter with, “But I think sometimes I should kick your ass in a game of Scrabble or too.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” he returns with a laugh.

“I am,” you state simply. “I am lucky.”

[nicholassabalos]

Power play....

           ....and an allied message to China....

....who is rapidly-building the world’s largest naval force (350+ ships and submarines)....

.... the People's Liberation Army Navy....

....now bigger (not necessarily better....just bigger) than the United States Navy, for the first time....

....presenting an emerging threat to free shipping through vital sea routes in the international waters of the South China Sea....

The South China Sea is in the center of this densely-populated and infinitely-dynamic region of the world.

....and posing a potentially direct threat to nearby heavily-populated, powerful & prosperous, ancient-culture nations of Taiwan, South Korea and Japan....all heavily -- almost existentially -- dependent on shipping....

....meanwhile bringing a serious economic threat to Australia -- and the rest of the hemisphere....

....that make this region ripe to become a volatile maritime flashpoint.

Note the participants in the maritime war games here: the United States, Australia, Japan, and South Korea. That’s one powerful list of good friends and allies....the might and will of our half-billion-population-alliance put-up against China’s 1.4 billion-population....

....and a totalitarian government that is signalling it intends to use it’s swank new navy as leverage while China is increasingly exerting belligerent claims over vast reaches of resource-rich ocean and vital ocean transport routes....and, essentially, daring a naval response.

An old-fashioned power-play.

The allied message: Build your Navy....that’s your right. But don’t dare use it to intimidate anyone. We aren’t going to allow it to happen.

The result: This powerful group of international warships honing their skills as a unified battle force.

Just in case!

(Think of what would happen if the United States got weirdly aggressive and seized the Caribbean Sea and Panama Canal as American territory....threatening the freedom of the island and coastal nations....and sending economic shock throughout the entire hemisphere. That’s the potential impact of Chinese foreign/military policies in the South China Sea in recent years. Now, getting increasingly dangerous.)

So....what the heck were those ships in the photos (before my China rant) actually doing?

                                          *          *          *          *

PACIFIC OCEAN (NEAR GUAM) (September 11, 2020) – Royal Australian Navy, Republic of Korea Navy, Japan Maritime Self-Defense Force, and United States Navy warships sail in formation (in the seven photos above) during allied naval exercise Pacific Vanguard 2020.

This is the third iteration of this exercise in recent years.

During the exercise, the eight warships and one submarine were able to practice a range of activities....including combined shiphandling maneuvers, surface warfare simulations, live-fire exercises (guns and missiles), anti-submarine warfare training opportunities, and replenishment (refueling and resupplying) at sea (UNREP).

The allied nations simulated and tested the essentials for a multi-national naval force to be able to operate as a unified team....and as a truly formidable, and effective, instrument of foreign policy for a number of allied nations. Its intent is to be strong enough to achieve a peaceful solution to whatever emergent crisis before ever a shot is fired.

                                         *          *          *          *

I participated directly or indirectly in dozens of multi-national/allied maritime exercises in this half of the world over my Naval career....some lasting but a few hours....others complex simulated battle scenarios lasting weeks.

A lot of hard work. A lot of professional learning....team building....and personal enjoyment connecting with the crews from the other navies.

Those multi-national exercises were, almost without exception, amazing, thrilling and most beneficial, in numerous important national security, professional and diplomatic ways, to all players. Never heard an unkind word, inside or outside, about them.

(They were often great adventures, on a personal level.)

And the brotherly bond between mariners -- especially military allies -- is one of life’s great treats for those so far from home. In the pre- (and post-) COVID-19 eras, there’s also the likelihood of, in the course of operating your warships, making visits to each other’s ships....and, often, meeting in person in port during training, cultural, sporting and social events.

                                           _____________________

>>Note: CLICK the photos for a better look at the small armada....

>>Top six photos: Japan Maritime Self-Defense Force; #7 - LTJG Samuel Hardgrove, USN

                                           _____________________

>>The warships from four great navies participating in Pacific Vanguard 2020:

Australia: Frigates HMAS Arunta (FFH 151), HMAS Stuart (FFH 153):

                                       HMAS Arunta (FFH 151)

                                      HMAS Stuart (FFH 153)

Japan: guided-missile destroyer JS Ashigara (DDG 178) and helicopter destroyer JS Ise (DDH 182):

                                       JS Ashigara (DDG 178)

                                            JS Ise (DDH 182)

South Korea: destroyers ROKS Chungmugong Yi Sun-sin (DDH 975) and ROKS Seoae Ryu Seong-ryong (DDG 993):

                   ROKS Chungmugong Yi Sun-sin (DDH 975)

                     ROKS Seoae Ryu Seong-ryong (DDG 993)

United States: guided-missile destroyer USS Barry (DDG 52), a submarine, Military Sealift Command fleet replenishment oiler USNS John Erickson (T-AO 194):

                                           USS Barry (DDG 52)

                                  USNS John Erickson (T-AO 194)

[thejosh1980]

Live Alive...

So much to write, so little time...I'll try to keep it short and focused.

Life has changed a lot here in northern New South Wales recently, but first, lets talk about the music...

It's just over 5 weeks since I performed my first live show after a 13 month break. I was a little concerned I couldn't pull off a show in my usual fashion, however I think in the end, every one, including me, was satisfied.

It is true, it's just like riding a bike...

Once I stepped up on stage to do my job, which is to put on the best show I could, I felt comfortable. I really enjoyed the moment, and didn't feel nervous or anxiety.

I met the drummer only minutes before we jumped on stage, it reminded me of the first show with Eddy and the Backfires in mid 2008 in Bottrop. I met Eddy and then bam, on stage to play a show together... We continued to play together for another 5 years. Sometimes I watch the video (on youtube) and smile when I see Eddy's face light up from the get go, much like the singer 5 weeks ago. I was the right guy for the job, I knew what I was doing.

I've gotten used to that though, learning songs off a CD then playing without a band rehearsal, and usually it works well... One doesn't really learn the songs until they're played live anyhow, right? The groove and feeling is always little different once the energy of a live show kicks in.

I try to slip into the band's sound and style... Learning on the spot who to follow and figure out what's going to happen next. Sometimes that means I'm not fully concentrating on the crowd, and maybe even looking a little confused at the band, but it's the lead singer's job to work the crowd, my job is to support them in their work, and I can't do that if I'm trying to impress the girls in the front row instead of listening and watching the band.

There were quite a few restrictions in place in Australia in July, so festival attendee numbers were down. Only Queensland folks and a few New South Wales folks could join. Usually the much larger crowd is a mix from all over Australia. I did meet up with some old friends, and made a few new ones. Reminding me that not only do I love playing music, but I do enjoy the social aspect of being a musician, that is whenever my anxiety levels are manageable. It's also sweet that no matter how long I've been away, folks come and say hi, and we talk like no time has passed.

This show was meant to be the beginning of returning to regular live shows, the band are very interested in having me play with them in the future and gigs were (very) slowly coming in...

However, everything changed the next morning...

With the high of a fun show, I woke to my cousin offering me eggs and bacon for breaky, I said “hells yeah!”... I had decided I wanted to attend the festival that afternoon before driving home that evening, to catch up with more friends and see some of the bands I had only been hearing about while living in Europe.

The 10am news came on “South East Queensland Lockdown Begins at 4pm” ! Well there goes my plans for visiting the festival!! I had to freshen up, eat, pack up and head south and cross the border post haste. I didn't want to be stuck in QLD, or in traffic!

Some folks had tested positive near Brisbane, and the festival was in one of the areas of concern. The festival promoter had to cancel 1.5 days into a 3 day rockabilly weekender.

Once I crossed the border back into NSW I found out I had to isolate at home... Apparently they back dated the restrictions for returning residents.

Lucky us!

So, I had a week at home to isolate. I decided to get tested, it was a negative result. What else do you expect?

The situation at the time, wasn't too bad, but a pain in the butt. I had to isolate for a week or two, and then I'd be free in NSW to hang out.

Luckily our classes went online too... Another challenge to contend with... Online classes are a necessity these days, but it took a few weeks for me to get used to 'em... To settle into the new routine.

Anyhow, so there I am isolating at home... A week later, on Sunday evening, I am released from isolation as the QLD situation is under control and NSW ease their rules. Earlier than expected, winner winner chicken dinner!

But then... The very next day, Monday evening, the whole of NSW is thrown into lockdown because of Sydney's high case numbers and some regional cases coming to light.

It's 5 weeks after the show, and I have been in either home isolation or restrictions or code red type lockdowns (or whatever you want to call it) for 99.9% of the time...

Good times...

I'm not bagging the rules, I know they're there to help. It's OK, it is what it is... I can call friends and family, I can exercise and, I can play the guitar. What more could I ask for? - Probably a lot more, but I digress.

I have learnt to become adaptable... It's not uncommon for me to feel frustrated at change, but eventually I come around to it.

Now back to music...

The NSW lockdown does affect the band too, 2 band members live south of the border in NSW and 2 live north in QLD, which has few restrictions...

Can we even get together to play? Are shows being booked? If we play a show on either side of the border, do we have to self isolate afterwards? It's a bit like living in 2 seperate countries at the moment, each with its own rules.

Leading up to the show, I hadn't done any live streams, I hadn't worked on music production or songwriting, however I was looking forward to the show. I wasn't really thinking too much about about the future... I've been concentrating a lot on my studies (which is another blog for another day)...

A week after the show I was a little put off by the isolation and restrictions, however now I am starting to take small steps to get back into playing for myself. What I mean is, I have worked on some song production, song marketing, song writing and even looking into working with musicians to put my own band together!!

How cool is that? To me, that is very cool...

Now the small steps mean I have also been co-writing with a friend, starting to put more of my music online (like Bandcamp... coming soon!) and thinking how I can start over again... Cause that's what this is really about...

While I do have a band who hires me to play their music (which I enjoy and am grateful for, whenever we'll actually be able to play together) I really need to start on my own music career. That is a big step! So time to break it down into smaller steps...

When I first moved back home, I had a few offers to jam with old friends, and didn't take them up on it. I didn't feel like playing. Maybe it was a bit of depression, or something, but I just wasn't excited about it...There had been a lot happening in 2020, on top of leaving Europe and integrating back into Australian life, well, I guess it was a bit too much for me at the time.

In the past few weeks I've started contacting folks to get together, once the restrictions have eased, and I am really looking forward to swappin' riffs, ideas and jammin' with friends old and new!

It was a small thing, to say yes to that show in July... Really, it was just a word “yes”... but that decision has lit a fire... the spark is burning... and I don't quite know where it's going to take me, but even the pandemic blues hasn't gotten me down this month like it has done in the past...

Cause now I got something to work towards...

I wanna work with musicians, in person or online... I wanna write songs again... I wanna play a live show with others, their music or mine... I wanna release my solo album (eventually) and I wanna express myself as I once did with the 6 string in the past...

Are you comin' along for the ride??

Thanks for reading,

The Josh

[qnewsau]

'Intimidating': Broncos' Ali Brigginshaw on meeting wife Kate

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/intimidating-broncos-ali-brigginshaw-on-meeting-wife-kate/

'Intimidating': Broncos' Ali Brigginshaw on meeting wife Kate

Broncos NRLW captain Ali Brigginshaw and her wife Kate are one of the sport’s ultimate power couples, but Ali has shared their awkward first meeting years before they tied the knot.

Ali and Kate shared a beautiful public kiss in the stands after the Brisbane Broncos won their first premiership title in October 2018.

In December 2019, Ali got down on one knee and proposed to Kate at Ali’s 30th birthday party in Brisbane. Twelve months later, the couple eloped to New South Wales and tied the knot.

“We first met in 2009, and I was so intimidated by her,” Ali told the Courier-Mail in a new interview.

“She was so pretty, and because of that I didn’t have the courage to talk to her,” Ali recalled.

“She thought I was a bitch because I never spoke to her, but I was just so intimidated by her looks.”

The two women were reunited years later and became fast friends.

“We just clicked. It was easy from the get go. It was like I’d needed that time to grow,” Ali explained said.

“We didn’t have the same interests at all. We were complete opposites. She didn’t even know I played rugby league.

“She just liked me for me. It’s cool to be with someone who’s different from you.”

‘It was like a dream come true’

Ali Brigginshaw is captain of the Brisbane Broncos Women’s squad and Australia’s longest-serving Jillaroo, Australia women’s national rugby league team.

She’s also the proud stepmum to Kate’s two children, Addision and Alfie, from a previous relationship. Ali said parenting is “a dream come true” for her.

“I always knew I wanted to be a mum, but I just didn’t know how that was going to fit into my future,” she said.

“When I met Kate and she had the kids, it was like a dream come true.

“I love being around kids. You are constantly learning along the way. Sometimes it’s challenging, but it’s rewarding beyond words. I love helping young kids. I’m good at it.”

A few weeks ago, Kate wrote a sweet tribute to Ali, “a wonderful role model and ultimate partner,” on Mother’s Day.

“Ali is the epitome of goodness. We’ve been raising our kids together for the majority of their lives and she has not missed a beat,” Kate wrote of her partner.

“Being a stepparent is/can be a thankless job. It’s a role that involves a lot of responsibility and very little glory.

“It takes a very special person to love and care for someone else’s kids and that in itself deserves the utmost respect and recognition.

“Our family isn’t defined by last names or by blood; it’s defined by commitment and by love.

“Thank you for choosing to love all of us.”

More on Ali Brigginshaw:

Broncos captain Ali Brigginshaw seals Grand Final win with a kiss

Ali Brigginshaw and wife Kate eloped and got married

Broncos star Ali Brigginshaw named NRLW player of the year

For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news, entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.

[aaarghjess]

Hi, I turned 31 today. Birthdays make me sad. I was looking back on how pointless this whole year was and how little I had accomplished. And for some reason I don't feel so bad this year. I'm assuming its because it probably hasnt been a great year for most people. Although i would say most people in aus have done significantly better than me, but that okay, life isn't a fucking competition

So here is a note of some of my achievements and failures in the past year, some big, some small. I have spent the past 12 months feeling like I have done nothing but tread water. But maybe just maybe, all of the little things mean something when you add them all together.

1. Purchased a drum kit

2. Took drum lessons for a little bit, didn't get much better but still plan to improve

3. Sunk a significant amount of time into learning to speak Spanish. Got a tiny bit better. Purchased Spanish text books and got an online tutor.

4. Had my best friend ask me to be her maid of honor

5. Saw an old friends wedding

6. Caught up with a few friends i hadn't seen in years

7. Still have so many people to catch up with i still haven't seen

8. Put on a significant amount of weight

9. Joined a gym

10. Made a few new friends

11. Spent quality time with family

12. Worked a terrible job, at a terrible company, for Terrible money for an entire year...didn't kill anybody.

13. Quit smoking (okay we are only 9 days in on this one....probably a bit soon to call)

14. Visited Tassie, South Australia, NSW and regional Victoria

15. Only went to 1 live show...but it was Frenzal Rhomb and they played Disappointment so it was kinda the best moment ever

16. Didn't hit the century. 1 more for the win. Fuck this is taking a long time

17. Did a lot of house sitting, hung out with a lot of cats

18. Didn't save any money whatsoever

19. Changed home loan providers

20. Got excited by new books, purchased them, read the first chapters, plan to continue reading them at some point

21. Wasted a significant amount of time playing merge dragons.

22. Dropped a significant amount of money in the pokies and tatts lotto (because you gotta risk it to get the biscuit)

23. Watched so so so much tv. This sounds like a negative one but actually I love TV.

24. Changed from apple tv to Google chrome cast

(i really wanted to list 31 things, but I'm currently sitting at 24, really clutching at straws)

25. Didn't get covid (that I'm aware of)

26. Started doing meal prep for my grandmother

27. Tried to donate blood for the first time, failed. Will try again soon actually thanks for the reminder

28. Wishes i was still traveling

29. Played golf s couple of times

30. Yelled at Scott Morrison through the TV a lot

31. Went on a walk that one time even though I was hungover because i promised Chelsea we would do something.

Fuck. That was really difficult. It really was a nothing year. I'm exactly were i was this time last year, just a few kgs heavier. I'll try and do better this next 12 months. Shouldn't be difficult

[laissezferre]

some irving things i learned from his memoir:

liked reading and rereading euclid

won the infamous maths medal when he was 15yo

read the ships’ library many times over. once forced a book on a middie as a way of making friends. it did not work.

was middies with william malcolm and george kingston, whom he kept correspondence with for years even after they left the navy

ridiculously tender w/ his friends. “i can fancy you laughing at this. however, you know that, with you, i speak just what i think, and i have no one else in the world whom i can do that to but yourself.”

also: “it is tantalising to think that you are just on the other side of these blue hills, but i can’t get at you.”

also: “you are my earliest friend. i never knew the meaning of the word until i met you... there is little in this world would give me so much real hearty pleasure as giving you a squeeze of the hand.”

was always lonely and thought he had no true friend. maybe this is why he and crozier got along??? “i have not one friend in the ship (not the terror yet), although i am on tolerably good terms with them all” vs. crozier’s “i am sadly lonely. not a soul have i in either ship i could go and talk to. no congenial spirit as it were.” someone pls give these sailors a hug

was religious, really religious. he mused on his future life as a settler in australia: “i should have my own house, however small, and i should be more out of temptation to sin, and be able to lead a life fitted better to my improvement as a christian, than on board ship” which is where i think the terror writers got “we are separated here from the temptations of the world... your crisis is an opportunity for you to repair yourself. you are in the world’s best place for it.”

shookt by all the swearing and obscene talk in ships and their irreverent way of practicing religion

was moved by a chorus of ship passengers warbling to church songs

irving: i’ve got to make my own living, my dad’s almost fourscore yrs old narrator: his dad was only 63.

gossiped abt his captain marrying a girl who was young enough to be his daughter

visited his captain’s sick wife while he was on shore leave bc the captain couldn’t go himself

was in malta during the coronation of king otto of greece. do u know who else was present in the coronation and was waiting on otto himself? j f j

saved 1-2 people when his boat was overturned by a gale.

climbed mount etna and got a permanent injury in his upper lip due to frostbite. his upper lip protruded and this significantly changed his appearance.

had 2hr smoking sessions almost every evening. he was bored as hell.

forever moaned about promotion prospects. i guess this was a pretty common thing back then.

was a mate for approx. 5yrs, then bc he didn’t think he would ever be promoted, fucked off to south australia to be a sheep farmer for 4yrs, then went back to the navy by 1843, got promoted to lieutenant along the way

irving: australia is so beautiful! what a simple life i lead, im so happy irving, 4yrs later: the sheeps have gone dirt cheap, this place is terrible and i wish to forget all memory of it

couldn’t negotiate sheep prices to save his life

since he essentially went off-grid for 4yrs, he had no fricking clue what had been happening at scotland and ireland when he returned, i.e. the beginning of the famine and tenants being booted out of the highlands to accommodate sheep, so he abstained from developing political opinions on it.

thought the irish friendly and accommodating, if primitive

joined hms excellent to take gunnery courses, as did many of the officers in the franklin expedition

wrote to his patron sir george clerk that he wanted to join the next arctic expedition, who wrote to sir george cockburn, who i guess made it happen

got appointed to hms terror as 3rd lieutenant on march 1845

was put in charge of monitoring the chronometers in the ship. this is kind of a big deal. in erebus, that was gore’s job, probably bc he had previous arctic experience. so irving was doing smth a first lieutenant was supposed to.

was a “talented draftsman” and was able to send home one drawing of the erebus and terror being restocked by their supply ship

had “an iron constitution”, had “a greater appearance of manly strength and calm decision” hmmmm, it’s that farmer john vibe going for him

“conducted himself with diligence, attention, and sobriety, and was always obedient”

when his (supposed) bones were re-interred in scotland in 1881, his longtime friend malcolm attended the service.

[holisticpassport]

My Covid Story

Apologies for any spelling errors, I’m on a time crunch. I’m a few hours out from leaving for my first flight since July 2019 (and before that, March 2018). Heading out to Sydney, I’m a mix of anxiety and absolute excitement. In January of this year, our sublet was almost up in Eltham and Cam and I had plans to pack up the car and begin doing workaways around Australia to help rebuild communities devastated by the historic wild fires (doesn’t that feel FOREVER ago?). When our sublet became available for a full lease transfer, we changed our minds to stay in our space, so that was the first instance of travel being knocked out of the picture. Then we had Valentine’s weekend open to go visit some friends in Tasmania, so we booked tickets and upon waiting in the airport, our flights were cancelled due to inclement weather. DAMN.  Mid-march came around and it was Cam’s birthday, so we wanted to get out for a weekend of camping in our big bell tent, find a gorgeous spot in the woods out east near Warburton. When we arrived, every camping spot for an hour’s dive any direction was either full or completely not open at all. We picked a spot off a random road and spent one night there, but some rangers came by and said we couldn’t stay there due to the possible danger of logging trucks not seeing us. So that was a bust.

Then as you’re aware, this time frame leads up to the very tumultuous third week of March when Melbourne officially went into its first lockdown due to COVID. I documented this time in journal entries which I will add at the end, but ultimately the lockdown went until June, and the state reopened too quickly/had a fiasco with quarantined cases getting out of a hotel, thus sparking the second wave. We had flights booked to California for June to see my family and then planned to travel around Mexico for a few months, but that dream was quickly squashed when flights out of Melbourne ceased to exist at all. Months later, I had a flight booked in July to go to Sydney where I was to have my eggs extracted for donation. The day before I was to fly out, second lockdown went into effect and the flight was cancelled (thus forcing me to have the procedure done in Melbourne and cause a huge, historic controversy between Melbourne IVF’s CEO and the medical director of IVF Australia about how to transfer frozen eggs over a closed border!).

I’m struggling to comprehend just how important and meaningful my ability to travel today is. To think back to the first time in history, watching borders around the world close, flights become grounded, and witnessing a global pandemic unfold whilst in a foreign country—I remember thinking at the beginning how unfathomable the scale of it was. When people talk about things not seeming real or like it’s a dream you can’t wake up from, that’s exactly how it felt. I questioned whether I needed to go back to the U.S. in fear I might not see my family for years or be with them if they got fatally ill. Would I be able to even go back if that happened let alone would I be able to re-enter AU (the answer was no). And thank god I didn’t go back considering the absolute cluster fuck of a mess Trump made of the pandemic. But also, thank god my family has been healthy and safe. The level of fear for their safety was at an all-time high as civil tensions grew when the riots around the country kicked off in conjunction with the pandemic. I wrote to all of them to have a plan to escape to Mexico and get their passports if Trump won the re-election. This was a genuine fear I’ve never experienced before.

The level of frustration, depression, anxiety, hopelessness, self-hatred for lack of productivity during lockdown, and uncertainty about so many facets of life weighed down on me during this time. But I know how much worse our time could have been. I was immensely grateful for the fact that we had a home and incredibly gracious landlords who were human and understood the financial difficulties of this unprecedented time when so many became homeless as job loss skyrocketed. We were so fortunate that I was able to continue working even 2 days a week through the lockdown as a barista and Cam was able to get government support for six months as a NZ citizen who lived in AU over 10 years when so many other New Zealanders were forced to return to their country because of the time limit stipulation for support. We only had two family members contract Covid and were young and healthy enough to survive when so many families will be without a member at the holidays this year.

And I acknowledge my privilege in that my identity is so closely entwined with the ability to travel, that while it felt suffocating to not even have the choice to travel anywhere outside of a 5km (3mile) zone, I fully empathize with those in parts of the world where they could not walk more than 50 meters from their front door or people who didn’t have windows/balconies in apartment buildings who were going out of their mind. All of that does not diminish the struggles I faced with not being able to travel, but it does always keep my perspective in check. My trip today signifies how a city and a country came together during the most difficult period of our lifetime, followed strict government guidelines, and came out after 120+ days in full lockdown on the other side of a pandemic, now able to cross state borders without isolation or quarantine. To go to a live music show,  have drinks on rooftop bars, walk around outside without a mask on, and see people going about their daily lives again on public transport and see a city bustling with energy—the months of mental hardship and growth was all to get back to a post-Covid world. Even though a vaccine is not out yet and we need to be cautious, the level of hopelessness has diminished significantly, and I’m not terrified my trip might be cancelled in two hours. I’m actually going this time!

There is also a whole other facet to my time in lockdown and that of course is the personal development and mutual growth in my marriage! That’s a whole separate post though which I hope to get out soonish. But here’s a bit of something I started a few months ago. Enjoy.

 ********

I remember when it first started in the news; like a minor blip of a story flashing at the bottom of the screen: some mutant virus had infected a couple dozen people in some random city in China. I was working solo in a café serving the employees of a major shoe distribution company in the warehouse district of Collingwood, Melbourne. The TV was on in the cafe but muted the first few weeks of January as the main stories were about the most devastating wildfires in the history of the world, and we all just felt a communal helplessness. As the numbers grew in China and the story became a daily headline, the first case was announced in Queensland on January 25th. Everyone stuck around a few minutes longer each day after they were handed their coffee. I think back to the moment when Wuhan, the epicenter at the time, reported 1,500 cases and I thought surely there can’t be much more than that. This is just media sensationalizing something small. This whole story will blow over in another week or two.

If only.

It was summer in Australia, and my husband and I were planning what to do after our sublease was up in mid-March. I commuted daily from a suburb 50 minutes north called Eltham, a creative and eco-friendly heritage town. We lived in a triplex made of adobe mudbrick, surrounded by native forest, a communal garden, and enjoyed huge artisan windows that brought in natural filtered light through the towering trees. Our little studio was a quiet haven away from the chaos and constant flurry of people in Melbourne, especially during summer as it brought travelers from every corner of the globe. There was no way we could have possibly known that this little paradise would feel like a prison after six months in the world’s longest lockdown due to a global pandemic caused by that little virus in some random city in China now known worldwide as COVID-19.

As the weeks passed by in February, more and more countries began reporting cases. I did not understand how pandemics worked as the last one I was alive for and could remember was H1N1 in California, and I was about 17—far too consumed with college applications and boys to think about world affairs. The Spanish Flu was never something that was particularly emphasized in our history classes, so it didn’t even occur to me to compare what was happening now to that point in time. Then again, this was incomparable because in 1912, the world was a less globalized economy and there were no commercial flights transporting thousands of passengers across the globe daily. By the first week of March, my daily rush-hour commutes became the first real difference I noticed. The number of morning passengers on the train platforms dwindled from 50 to 25 to 5, and eventually, to just me. As the train stopped at over 30 stops from where I lived to the city, my carriage wasn’t even remotely full at 7 a.m.

There was less foot traffic in the city. Flinders Street Station, one of the two largest hubs that saw thousands of people daily, was eerily quiet and empty. We were two weeks out from leaving Melbourne to go travel, planning to go to New South Wales, AU to help rebuild communities that were ravaged by the bushfires. I was desperate to travel this year, and we were so close to leaving. I had picked up some other barista work in an advertising agency closer to the city. But day by day, office workers were being told to work from home if they were able to. Hand sanitizer became readily available in the café, bathrooms, and around the office. I remember staring out the window of this high rise building that overlooked the lush green stretch of Albert Park and thinking it looks so normal outside. Every day, I looked at the news in Australia, which I had never really done before. Industries were shutting down, and the panic was setting in for thousands of casual workers in the hospitality industry as it was only a matter of time before we would be shut down too.

Melbourne is a cultural hub filled with travelers who typically come here on a Work and Holiday Visa which gives them 1-2 years to work and live in AU. Most find work in hospitality as there are over 40,000 restaurants and cafes in this region. You couldn’t go a single day without meeting someone from another country which is why I fell in love with this city. I worked as a freelance barista through agencies that called for workers to be able to step in if someone called out sick or quit unexpectedly and they found themselves short. But my agencies had gone completely silent in the week leading up to the industry shutting down. There was no more work and travelers were finding themselves stranded. I journaled daily in the lead up to my final day of work in the city as I knew something big was happening, and I wanted to be able to recall when it all began. I also knew we would not be travelling anytime soon, around Australia or otherwise, when national and international borders began closing around the world.

 March 17th, 2020

All that’s being talked about is COVID-19. Entire countries are closing borders and going into complete lockdown. Italy has been inundated with patients in hospitals and now have to choose who lives and who dies. AU isn’t taking nearly as intense of measures, but the general atmosphere is not normal. All events with over 500 people have been cancelled. Those who have traveled anywhere must self-quarantine for 14 days or face a huge fine. Some people still don’t take it seriously, thinking/acting like it’s just a normal flu when in reality its ability to be passed on and even re-infect someone a second time is much higher than the rate of a simple flu. In the states, my family says all the restaurants and schools have closed, even the Hollywood entertainment industry has closed down. So many independent contractors, myself included, are without means to live because there’s no emergency government funding in place. It shows what’s truly flawed with the system. Luckily Cam has full time work still, but for those people who have kids and no daycare options? No partner or family? Those who are traveling and can’t get back home? This is devastating for all of us, but them in particular. Supposedly, there are rumors that the virus dies with the warm weather, but AU is headed into winter. It could be why the virus isn’t as big in places like South America and Africa (*note* countries from these two continents are now in the top 10 most infected places as of September 2020) Europe is completely shut down as is New Zealand. I have flights to California in June, so I’m hoping I can still go. For how weak my immune system is, I’m surprised I’m not more concerned because I’ve been continuously reassured the virus only attacks those with underlying conditions, mainly in the elderly population. Even in calm, tight-knitted communities like ours in Eltham, we’re seeing the best and worst of humanity come out with people hoarding resources, but also there are those offering rides for people to stores or grocery drop offs to their homes. I’m very interested to see how the next three months progress all around the world. Right about now, it’d be nice to hide away in a beachside house in Mexico. (*Mexico is also among the top 10 most infected countries now*)

March18th, 2020

The government should announce today whether hospitality industry will close, potentially putting Cam and I both out of jobs. Luckily our landlord is being highly accommodating. Trump is giving Americans $1,200 and has postponed tax season by 3 months. Only seems he does something decent when it’s to keep the economy from tanking and his money is protected.

Cam and I both have throat annoyances and headaches. We should try to stay home, but can’t afford it. Today, they’ve dropped gatherings of 500 down to only 100 people, yet shopping centers and public transport remain open, which I would think are the riskiest places for transferring infections. It’s been stated this is a once in a decade event that will change the course of history.

 March 19th, 2020

Amidst all the chaos from morning to night, people are finally taking time to nurture their interests and creativity. I’m taking two courses on sustainable fashion and fashion in design. I’ve also applied to be a mentor for women trying to gain work and leadership experience at an NGO called Fitted for Work. They have stylists that help women to prepare business outfits and tailor their resumes/do mock interviews. I’ve looked into an MA program I’m interested in at Warren Wilson College back in North Carolina. I think looking forward is the only way to keep the fear down about how long these shut downs may last possibly through June. The world economy is going to see some extremely confronting realities it hasn’t seen since the Great Depression. For the moment I’m looking into teaching English online which I’m already certified to do, just to try and earn some money. I’ll be interested to see all the art that comes out of this period and the photojournalism that captures this historic time.

 March 21st, 2020

We went over to Williamstown (Cam’s parent’s house) as Cam had two shifts out that way. Restrictions in cafes are now 1 person per 4 square meters, so in the 100 person limit already imposed, it’s now down to 25. I’m nervous for Cam to keep working and going on public transport. It’s high risk and unethical in terms of coming in contact with people we could transmit it to without knowing (asymptomatic) because it takes 14 days to even show symptoms. We made the choice to start self-isolation come Monday as we can see in the next week or two the same spike will be here in Melbourne as we’ve seen in Italy and most likely soon to see in the U.S. Reading other peoples’ accounts about how they continued life as normal as though nothing had changed in Italy is exactly where AU is projected to head towards.

 March 25, 2020

As of Monday, AU took drastic measures to ensure safety and closed many non-essential businesses with a series of daily updates for more and more businesses to shut or only stay open for takeaway. Overnight, nearly 80,000 people in hospitality work were laid off or lost work, Cam and I included. A stimulus package of 66 billion dollars was announced and Cam qualified for government payments through Centrelink because he’s a kiwi who’s been here over 10 years. Other kiwis who haven’t been here that long are completely without any kind of support from the AU government, even though in NZ, Aussies are supported. A very backward, selfish system who told them to go home.

We went to Centrelink on Monday at 7:45am in Greensborough (suburb over from Eltham). By 8:30 am when the doors opened there were over 200 people in line. The government has been terribly confusing with their messages out to the public, highly unprepared. People are confused about what they can and can’t do, what businesses are remaining open, who is eligible… it’s a mess. Why are liquor stores and hair salons considered essential?? There have been spikes in young people getting this virus as young as 18, and they are dying. The virus coats your lungs like a jelly ultimately blocking oxygen. We did what is hopefully our last grocery shop because being in the store is just as contagious as a café. There’s no safety or hygiene measures in place. We had gloves on and people were dancing around each other in the aisles to maintain 1.5m social distance.

The U.S. is becoming the new epicenter with horrific rapid spreading, particularly in New York. Flight around the world, including as of today AU, are being stopped and we can no longer leave the country at all.

  To Be Continued…..

[dawnoftheeverlight]

Art by Caitlin

Canberra has had the worst air quality of any city world wide the last few days. It is atrocious. My friend has been in hospital for an asthma attack, and her asthma is usually not bad. The inside of buildings got so smokey people in their houses, with all the doors and windows closed, were still struggling to breathe because of the smoke.

This evening, an elderly woman passed away due to respiratory distress as she disembarked a plane at the Canberra Airport.

Canberra cancelled all of its New Years events, as it wasn’t safe for people to be outside for extended amounts of time.

My friends mum lives in Nowra, NSW, and many people around her have had to evacuate. She hasn’t because she is a nurse and her house is more safe than others who work at the hospital, so she’s stayed behind so she can still work and treat patients.

Whole areas on the south coast that I frequently visit have been completely burned up. It is so so distressing. My friends and I turned the news on yesterday morning, and the devastation these fires are causing was the first thing we saw. Two people died trying to protect their property (side note: if you do not have the experience and resources to protect your house from a major bushfire, do not stay behind. Leave while you can, and you will almost certainly save your own life.) Whole towns have been destroyed. People have lost everything.

One of my friends has been stuck in Turros Heads for two days, as all the roads out of the town closed before she could evacuate. The south coast area has lost telecommunications. People don’t have enough food to stay, or enough petrol to leave. Another friends grandmother lives right on the border of the fire. She doesn’t know if her grandmother is okay, because she can’t call her due to the loss of telecommunications.

Entire towns have been destroyed. People were staying to protect their properties, homes that many have lived in for more than a decade, but emergency evacuation orders were placed and they had to leave, not knowing if their home would still be there when they can eventually return.

I watched a video tonight from 9 News Sydney, and it showed residents of towns being told their homes were gone. It is so desperately heartbreaking.

On top of this, towns have run out of water due to a major drought that much of Australia has been in for over two years. The drought has exacerbated the fires, and what little water was left has had to be used to fight fires. People have turned on taps to find no water coming out. My country is burning, and we have no where near enough water to stop it.

Smoke from the bushfires has blown over to New Zealand. That’s a distance of approximately 2000kms (1243 miles). Queenstown had yellow, smoke covered skies yesterday (01/01/20).

This is the beginning of a climate apocalypse and I am so scared. Pray for Australia, and pray that we get some major rain, because without it, we will not survive.

We need climate action. We need it now, and it must be a radical change. We need to make a complete change to renewable energy, away from fossil fuels. We need to decrease plastic production and waste. We need to do so many things, and we are quickly running out of time.

This land was, is, and always will be Indigenous land. Sovereignty was never ceded.