champagne breakfasts, caviar dreams

The first long weekend for the year and it was nothing worth really noting unfortunately, aside from being left to my own devises whilst my parents spent it away at their beach house. Which obviously was bloody brilliant. It was also something I had been really looking forward to all last week. Knowing that I’d have their house all to myself and meticulously planning those two days to be filled with words and creativity. But if there’s one thing I am good at it’s getting distracted. So I spent that precious time dreaming away on what the long weekend ideally could have been like rather than working away on my manuscript, as initially planned.

So what did I imagine it to be?

Funny that. It wasn’t filled with private jet rides to beaches in Bali or helicopter rides around Sydney Harbor nor did it entail strawberries laced with chocolate and edible gold. It was completely understated and I suppose in the eyes of others around me, rather mundane at that.

In the land of my mind the weekend officially began late Friday afternoon. I imagined myself taking my sidekick for a walk to one of our favorite parks, breathing in the spicy musk of freshly mowed lawn while the sun softly kissed away at the exposed flesh of my legs and arms. A gentle breeze plays tag with the loose strands of my hair and annoyingly restyles my blunt fringe for which I spend most of the time commanding back into place. The two of us walk in silence, both caught up in our own little worlds of serenity. Mine lost to my third eye, hers captivated by the many sounds and smells engulfing her entire being. We walk our usual lap around the glistening lake then make our way back to my car, completely invigorated and ready to take on the world.

I make a quick pit stop at the supermarket, picking up some fresh berries that we’d run out of then quickly dash into the liquor store and grab a couple of bottles of wine and tequila. I’d get back in the car, welcomed by my sidekicks happily flaying tail, brimming with excitement I announce to her our final stop and continue speaking gibberish as we make the short drive down to our local Chinese haunt. Parking my car in that lovely graffiti infested parking lot, I stop to take another photo of some newly designed work before finally stepping inside that quaint little restaurant, decorated in a tasteful modern-oriental design with assorted kick-knacks and bright pink walls. An atmosphere smelling of hot deep fryer oil and a bright smile behind the counter. They know me by name and embarrassingly by order. My cheeks flush red as the young girl immediately recognizes me, as she always does and I discreetly glance around to see if the other patrons dining inside noticed this. I don’t know why I get quite so abashed or feel like a fatty when they recognize me! I grab our dinner and wish the girl a Happy Chinese New Year then drive back to my home.

My own home. (I don’t think there’s ever been a sweeter sentence said.)

Inside my house I’d patiently await for the boyfriend to return home from work and beers with his boys. I’d watch some television while I waited for him, sneaking in a bite or two of my piping hot satay chicken. Then he’d finally arrive, much to my stomach’s delight though I’d have to continue to wait for him as he wanders upstairs to wash away the day’s labor. Finally we’d settle in on that big white Ikat printed couch cuddling, accompanied by some tasty and greasy Chinese food with the television blaring nonsense into our ears late into the night.

Image via Pinterest

The next morning we’d sleep in by mistake, knowing full well that we’d committed to an early start that Saturday. Running late and running about like headless chooks we’d hurry ourselves up for the big adventure of that day. I’d phone my friend and tell her we were on our way surprised to find that they’re ready on their end. We’d get in the car and make the long drive up to Kristy’s place, the meeting point for us today. Once there we’d do the mandatory greetings then load the others into our vehicle and slowly begin the long drive up to my parents beach house, playing karaoke in the car despite my mans protests and taking shameless selfie’s along the way. Anything to preoccupy our bored brains. As lunch nears we stop for a bite at a rural pub along the way were the cheesy photographs have only just began. We don’t stay too long as my friends children, eager for the promise of salty air and sand are becoming restless with the wait. So with belly’s full we make our way to the beach and spend the rest of the day frolicking by the water’s edge. Gossiping on the hot grainy sands and looking out onto the waves. My friends watching the children splash about in the shallows, me admiring my man on his surf board. At dusk we part ways and make the long drive back to suburbia were the night has just began for the two of us. We’re tired but a prior engagement sees us donning our Sunday bests. He with hair slicked back and me in sky-high heels and bright red lips for a late night soiree.

That Sunday morning we’d enjoy a well deserved sleep in before getting up once again for another full days worth of adventure. We’d been invited by one of his mates for a BBQ lunch that afternoon, but not before I whip out the pans and make us a decadent spread of fluffy pancakes adorned in fresh berries, cream and honey to start the day.

And that was it. So innocent and humble; in my opinion anyway. To have your own place and wake up beside someone every morning that makes your whole being smile and radiate. To do and enjoy the simplest of treasures that most people take for granted. It seems to be all I truly yearn for; a freedom and a love. Not an epic love story to change the world, just a real and honest one. One that for me would move mountains and come sweeping in on a tall white horse. It would slay dragons and rescue me from my keep. It’s funny, given all the riches in the world the main root of my desire is love and freedom. In a place where the world is my oyster, where anything, absolutely anything and everything is possible I reach for the small pleasures. Pleasures that I see all around me on a daily basis. Pleasures I’ve felt to be restricted to me as a sort of cruel karmic punishment.

Unattainable in this reality so I reach for it in another.




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