Thursday, September 09, 2004


As I bitched yesterday about things I don't like, I figure I'll go the opposite and tell you what I DO like. Sorry if its a little too coated in sachrine, but at least its freindly to diabetics.

Things I love

Arguing. I love being quick with an answer. I like catching someone else tripping up on their words. I like trying to get out of my own verbal gaffs. I love it when someone beats me, but I love beating them just as much.

I love discussing a viewpoint with someone who doesn't agree with me. You learn more that way. I love changing my mind because new information has just come to light, because it means its still open. I love having Political discussions when you least expect it - In the middle of a pool tournament, with a taxi driver at 5am, with someone in the line for beer at the footy at half time at the MCG.

I love the smell of rain, even though rain makes my knee ache. I love watching someone catch on to a song I love. I love the sound of laughter - racous, belly laughter, squacking, snorting laughter. I love the crinkle in the skin around someones eyes when you make the smile. I love being afraid. I love the crowds at rugby games ("Ten thousand instant Christians") on that note, I love Max Boyce, Billy Connolly, All of the Monty Python crew, Black Books, BlackAdder, Ben Elton and Lenny Henry.

I love a close sports game of any kind. I love the roar of the crowd, the shiver up your spine, the nail marks in the palm, the loss of your voice from screaming your team over the line, the jubilation with total strangers on the way home, bursts of song, bursts of joy, bursting into tears when it goes the wrong way ("There's always next week, love")

I love the stupid In-Jokes you have with freinds from years ago, some so old you have trouble remembering where they came from ("Today is Tuesday. NEVER forget that"/ "My shoe is falling off, My shoe is falling off, ladidadidadida, my shoe is falling OFF!"/"You spelt illiterate wrong!")

I love pressing the snooze button. I love the smile on The Boys face when I meet him somewhere. And the goofy smile on mine. I love the looks people give us when we do stupid things like tickle each other mercilessly in public. I love that he is the EXACT perfect height for me to lean my head on his shoulder when we're walking down the street. I love that it feels wierd if I sit on the train or bus without an arm around me or his hand in mine, and I fear falling asleep and automatically leaning my head on a strangers shoulder (I'm SURE I did that this morning) Fuck it. I love The Boy.

I love my Dads jokes and the way he laughs at himself. I love the smell of his cooking. I love the way he'll break into an old song for no reason, and you find yourself singing along. I love the way he chews on his gold chain, and the fact that because I used to play with it so much he bought me an identical one for my eighteenth. I love the way he walks, and occasionally dances, into a room. I love his wicked sense of humour.

I love my brothers total enthusiasm for some things and his dislike for EVERYTHING else. I love watching him read a newspaper as though its interactive, and watch him take things he doesn't like personally, as though the bad review of a movie he loves is there just to annoy HIM. I love the stress he causes himself over the loss of a sock, when none of his socks are his, he just pinches my Dads.

I love my Grandmothers laugh and her optimism and toughness, and the at the same time, I love how gentle she is. I love the fact that shes nearly totally blind but still manages to notice if I've had a hair cut. I love my Uncle Rays protectivness and the simple joy things give him. I love watching my cousins learn new things and hang on your every word about the rain cycle even though they're only five. I love watching them emerge into brand new people and forming the same bonds I have with my family. We won't see each other for years at a time because we live so far apart, but we fall back in to old patterns so easily.

I love listening to my Grandfather talk about history, and his love for boxing, his obsession with being in the paper, his penchant for ties and cardigans, even if he's only going shopping. That you can laugh at him, and he'll laugh along with you, the way he calls me "Chick" or "Chicken"

I love the fact that most of my family has at least four ways of spelling my name, and sometimes use more than one at once. I love that the back door is always open, and the kettle always on. When I was a child, I loved the Gooseberry bush out the back of my aunts house. I love the hills of my homeland, and the trees of the new. I love my family from the old, and the freinds who've become my family here. I love that I'm the child of two countries, and the itchy feet I get in both to be in the other. I love that when I'm here, Merthyr is "Home" and when I'm there, "Home" is Melbourne. I love the indignation I feel for this city when someone says that Sydney, souless, Sin-City, is superior. Mexicans rock, my freinds, Mexicans rock.

Home is where I keep the majority of my shoes, it would seem.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.

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