volume twenty-eight

I want to break free

Hi friends!

I am safe and sound and the pandemimoore has not come for me this time. So this digital journal for this week involves me emerging from isolation and the adventures that follow, now I have an extended time here in Australia.

Stay safe y’all!

DAY TWENTY-NINE

I am grateful for those practising so much patience with me as my wifi makes my commitments hard to carry out when I move from place to place. Thankful for their kindness and understanding.

Driving with my niece, Ella when we see cars driving towards us from the direction we are headed, window wipers on, covered in water droplets. It is such an exciting feeling as you drive in the sun knowing you are about to enter a sun shower a-little-ways-away.

I am sleeping in my nephew’s room tonight at my older sister’s house. It is my last night here in Queensland before I head back to New South Wales for the last leg of my trip. My nephew, Phoenix, is nine years old (nearly ten! ugh!). He has got his headphones on and is gaming at his computer with his friends. I get to hear the conversation, him totally unaware I am there, and it is such an honour. He is so delightful, polite, excited, kind and mature and he so sweetly interacts as I hear him more in his element than I ever have before. I am a proud aunty, and grateful to know and see what activities really make him happy, as he shies away pretty quickly from the louder boisterous ones I partake in usually.

Family games night! My competitive streak comes out, the way it does that when I am losing and I also lose interest, but when I am winning? Oh, you better believe I am all in. It is interesting seeing two more versions of this (me — Monica Gellar) in both of my sisters. It is a battle of the siblings and none of us wants to be Ross.

My Mumma made a vegan chocolate cake from scratch for us all for dessert. It was not only delicious, but it was also a huge sign of effort and love for us that was felt in every bite.

ignore the headband — we were playing celebrity heads

Emily brought Dobby (the pug) to games night, so my sad goodbye to him this morning was not it at all. HOORAY! I get more cuddles and if I had my own tail it would be wagging, I am very happy — especially happy when we get to bring him inside as the backyard gets a swarm (maybe four or five but that is a lot, okay?) of cane toads. Oh boy, this is Australia. Everything is trying to kill you or your dog.

Some goodbyes are easier than others. On this occasion, I notice, when I know the other person is going to be a wreck, I shut down. It is almost like my instinct is to balance it out. I don't know why, I almost feel it switch off and I notice it change instantly. I shed tears saying goodbye to my baby sister, Dobby and Mum and the goodbyes are different for them all. I feel the imbalance in our feelings, or more so my reaction to them, and I feel myself go to the other end of the spectrum and balance it out subconsciously. There I am bawling saying goodbye to my baby sister who cries at whatever a regular amount for a normal human would be, if there is such a thing. Then I react barely at all with my Mum who cries as if I am leaving forever and I feel like she needs to calm down so I do for her. Why, I wonder?

DAY THIRTY

At home, in my own apartment, my alarm clock is one that is battery operated and rings bells at the highest of volumes and shakes and rattles and I jump awake. This is ideal because at home it is cold and dark and I struggle to get out of bed. At home, I like to put my phone in a cupboard around 9pm and keep it there until around 9am. I didn’t bring my alarm clock with me (although I seriously considered it) and as a result, I am using my phone as an alarm clock. I have seen my screen time skyrocket and it sucks, as well as the right before bed and right as I wake stuff, which is a no-go! The nice thing is, however, that the alarm sound I chose is one that sounds like morning birds chirping, that slowly wakes me up. Today I woke up in my sister’s house to what I thought was my alarm, but was in fact, just actual morning birds singing me to alertness. This is what dreams are made of and wouldn’t it be nice to feel like Cinderella every day (just the good parts of her life, obviously).

Today I attended Writers’ Hour joined by Phoenix (until he ran to play outside which I totally respect), Scarlett (who wrote an incredible short scary story) and Harmony (who sat on my lap in intervals to draw).

Rushed goodbyes this morning. When the shuttle arrived early, the driver seemed to have zero empathy for crying adults and sad children, so I had very little time to blubber saying goodbye to my sister and her sweet babes. Saying goodbye to the kiddies always breaks my heart like nothing else. I am so beyond lucky to have little, bright, fun, kind, creative, ray of sunshine beauties in my life that love their Aunty Lauren so much, but who hate to say goodbye and see her go.

I am so bloody sad and I have so much motion sickness. Rough. I bury my head into the seat in front of me for the two-hour drive ahead. The one time I feel us slow down so I bring my head up to see if we are there, I see we are just pulling into a street that has a billboard that reads exactly what I need:

Today’s forecast: SERENITY.

I board an almost empty, rather large plane to Sydney. I am manifesting a row to myself. *please please please*

YEAH, I DID! Not only did I manifest the row to myself, which makes me feel so at ease away from as many strangers as possible. It is also a full-sized plane with about twenty people on it. Pandemimoore can’t catch meeeeeeeee.

I sit here reflecting on my time with my family — such precious cuddles that I will be thinking about until I see them next. I will close my eyes and imagine all their tiny arms and infectious giggles whenever I miss them, starting right now as I try to sleep off this motion sickness.

About thirty minutes after arriving at my Nan and Pop’s I get the call you dread, a family member that I have just left is in tears because someone else has tested positive. Okay — this is not the end of the world. I am safe still. I just hugged my grandparents and my Aunty Deb who is here, but I run to my room and mask up and close the door. First thing is first and that is that the family member is doing okay? Is everyone else okay, health and heart? Then I hang up and go through anger, frustration, blame, self-pity, determination, acceptance (that this for sure changes my plans for the remainder of my time in Australia as well as when I get to leave), game planning, silver linings… all in the span of an evening. Breaking only to eat dinner and sob on the phone. The serenity prayer helps, so does my beautiful family.

DAY THIRTY-ONE

I guess Nan is scared of me, even though I am isolating, as she won’t even talk to me through the door. I hear her ask my Aunty to relay messages to me, which she does. This fucking sucks on so many levels. It is so hard not to think how one person’s actions (whether they were careless or bad luck that is for them to decide on their own I keep telling myself blame won’t change the situation) can have such a shitty ripple effect. I am angry that the person who tested positive was the only one who seems to have had an active social life, the only one who hasn’t been as careful, and regardless of any of that, I am angry they didn’t have the guts to tell me themself, instead putting the burden on another person in their household who has enough to think about right now and people to protect. I am angry and need to remember that I was young once, and I also thought the world revolved around me and perhaps in a way this is karma because I was horrible when I was that age.

Aunty Deb is taking such lovely care of me. She takes me to my PCR test, she delivers me coffee and breakfast to my room, she sits at the door and chats without rushing off. I feel so lucky to be with her and so bitter that my first time with her in many years is being spent like this.

GOD SHOTS ARE HAPPENING! There is no line at the PCR testing sight, there was a rapid test delivery the minute we arrived at the store to ask about some so we secured enough for the rest of my isolation period and when I called to rebook my flight, it was done at no extra cost.

Isolation thoughts: I love smelling the rain before I see or hear it.

Nan got home from the best round of golf she has had in about three years — since she got her cancer diagnosis — and is so excited she tells me herself through the door!

Dear Diary, when I said I didn’t want to leave Australia, this isn’t really what I had in mind…

I insist my aunt, uncle and grandparents go to lunch as planned even though I cannot, because either way I will be locked in my room so they may as well have their day to enjoy! I enjoy some rest, reading and reflection.

DAY THIRTY-TWO

I got my period today which feels extremely cruel while I await my stressful fate.

My PCR is negative! As have been my rapid tests. This is a good sign that I may hopefully sit out the rest of the isolation okay. Thank fucking god herself!

Poppy comes looking for everyone when he awakes from a nap and I see him from the backyard where I have come to sit alone while everyone is out. I love how perfect his hair is right after a nap — an indication that he brushes it after he wakes before he greets the world. He asks from inside where everyone is and I tell him Uncle Shane is at the beach and the girls are across the street. I tell him “it’s just you and me!” to which he replies “you and I!” very matter-of-factly.

Feeling very grateful for Aunty Deb and Uncle Shane who get me things I need like hand sanitiser, snacks, disinfectant and cold water and take time time to (safely) chat with me.

DAY THIRTY-THREE

A negative PCR and morning and night negative rapids mean I can now proceed (with caution) out into the world. Deb and I are able to take Poppy to church as promised — he has started to go, as too, his memory has started to go. I am grateful it is a huge church with barely anyone there. While we sit and wait for the service, Poppy turns to me and says “you won’t know yourself tomorrow, I put in a good word for you”. Then he turns to Deb and says “you, not so much”.

I can’t help but feel grateful we are all masked up in church, for the obvious reason, but also so no one can see I do not pray along with a lot of the service. 

Even though I am no longer with my sister’s kids, I am yelling “SPOTTO!” every time I see a yellow car, as they do. My point score is at six today, thanks.

It is bitter-sweet to be enjoying this time with family while someone I love is sick. I am still struggling with my blame on this. I wish I would channel my anger into the power to make people feel better. That would be a pretty cool skill. I have to keep telling myself this could have happened to any of us, and my travels at any time could have been the reason this happened, even though they weren’t and even though I know how to distance and sanitize and not go to crowded or public indoor spaces that aren’t necessary, even though this could have happened to me, with all the travelling I have been doing, even though it didn’t, even though…round and round I go in my head and it helps no one.

I got to fill Deb and Shane in on the “quiet room” today — the second living room at my Nan and Pop’s. Deb asked if I had seen something in that room and I told her I don’t really go in there due to never being allowed there as a child it is embedded as a no-no. She laughs and they don’t believe me until Nan comes out and I ask her, “Nanny what is the Quiet Room?” and she replies “the room you kids weren’t allowed in when you stayed because Nanny was tired”. Look, she needed somewhere to watch The Bold and The Beautiful in peace, okay? Keryn & Emily, can you please a comment backing me up here and your traumatic memories of the quiet room?

Front balcony sunshine hangs with Poppy this afternoon until the Summer rain took us inside.

I got the CD player working in the Quiet Room, and Roy Orbison serenaded Deb, Nanny and myself before sleep.

DAY THIRTY-FOUR

Another morning of negative tests day and night. At this point just know I did them day and night for ten days, because I did and I don’t want to keep typing it. They were all negative!

Picture This: Three ladies in the laundry attempt to remove an unknown stain from Lauren’s favourite white pants. Soda Water explodes when it is opened and covers us all, leaving us in stitches and Nanny needing to change her shirt. I don’t think I have ever seen Nan and Aunty Deb laugh that much before together.

Afternoon walks through the golf course with Nanny, Poppy and Deb and we sneak through a hole in the fence to the beach — just like my older sister and I did when we were kids. I am pretty impressed by my grandparents who not only climbed through but who went looking for the hole behind the trees and seemed to know exactly where to go. Hmmmmm…

I cooked dinner for everyone! As much as I can appreciate that the Australian Open matters to a lot of people, my grandparents being no exception (is Ash Barty a long lost relative or something because they seem to love her a lot), I asked for the TV to go off for dinner. I asked for us to sit at the dining table and for us to pop a CD on in the Quiet Room. As soon as dinner was done they were there back in front of the TV, but I so loved the break and the time together and that they loved my dinner so much, everyone went back for seconds.

Late-night laughter with Deb while she helped me pack a bag for our little adventure tomorrow, and cute sleeping grandparents on the couch.

DAY THIRTY-FIVE

Five days since exposure it is safe to say (so they say? who actually knows these days?) I am covid free, which is a relief for my feelings of the safety of those around me, and a bit more relaxation of my distance and masking inside and so on, but leaves me with a huge sense of guilt wondering how I managed to avoid it? Why is it fair that some of my loved ones are suffering now? How can life be that unlucky for some and so lucky for me? Ugh.

I steal a spray of my Nanny’s perfume. It is beautiful.

Nanny made Deb and me, her delicious poached eggs for breakfast before we depart and we all enjoy some breakfast in the backyard.

Deb and I made it to Sydney! There are so many yellow cars here — look out kids I am going to smash this game of spotto! I actually didn’t think I would make it here. I was convinced right now I would be isolating and sick, awaiting the time I felt and tested okay to go home. I am so grateful while still feeling overwhelmed with guilt.

Today’s favourite smell: The Queen Victoria Building. All the expensive soaps and perfumes in there waft to my nose as I walk by. It brings me back a decade or more in time, going for fancy coffee with my ex-boyfriends Mum because he was a jerk and she wished I was her daughter and woah, that was messy.

I got Deb and I from our hotel to our rooftop lunch reservation forty minutes on foot (because no thanks indoors and no thanks cabs) in The Rocks, without the use of a map once. You can take the girl out of the city but…

Someone’s job is Seagull Patrol and if I wasn’t so terrified of birds I would now have a new dream job.

Dad comes to meet us! He looks so lovely and dressed up in his fancy shirt, pants and shoes. At one point I walk back from the bathroom to hear them talking about me. I think I missed the juicy stuff because all I hear is how I get away with everything at Nan and Pop’s place.

I got to walk up Oxford Street tonight with my Daddio — where you live it might be called The Gay Village or something of that regard, but all of us who live in cities have our own version of this magical area. Dad and I used to frequent here before he came out to me and I was clueless, and before I realised my sexuality and just always felt so right at home in any of these establishments. This feels super special to be here — over a decade later — comfortable and happy in who we are, together again.

We end the night with a couple of late-night woodfired pizzas — all three of us sharing a laugh and a shared meal. Daddio bought us dinner, then walked us back to our hotel where we all went up to the roof the see the fairy lights of the city. Laughing over and over at Deb’s rosé glow and wonder of the city. This truly is magical, to be standing here with my Dad and my Aunty, two people I am so thankful for. One who has always been a kindred spirit and who I have always admired and one who we had to work a lot to be here right now, after some tougher times, and I am so glad I am seeing the work both of us have put in, paying off as we enjoy each other’s company with nothing but love.

Continued next week.

I love you,

Lauren xoxo

No blessings, struggles or gratitudes lists this week as I think they’re pretty well covered above.

If you feel inclined to say thanks for this post, please like or comment (it’s free and means so much!), forward it to a friend or you can buy me a slice 🍕