So much to say, too little time

I have been scarce, I know. I was laid low by those bloody bugs, who swapped their studded soccer boots for fluffy slippers (presumably hungover from too much tequila) which tickled my throat and made me cough. Alot. I shan't go into the details of the phlegm produced as it would be gross. Let's just say - lots, urgh.

Then I was overwhelmingly swamped by a whole lot of deadlines for the Other Work and then, joy of joys, I flew up to The Big Smoke to spend the weekend with my sister (she of the ever-expanding-two-babies-in-her-tummy variety) and sister-in-law. She is now 8 months pregnant and looking gorgeous and I spent a lot of time with my cheek pressed to her beautiful belly, being kicked by the babies inside - wierd, wonderful, incredible. They are so contendedly happy and excited about it all, it's fabulous.

While up there I had lunch with an old varsity friend who I've become reaquainted with via this blogging thing and who lives in Tanzania, but is in The Big Smoke to have her baby too - serendipitous indeed. She, too, is looking gorgeously belly-filled and what a treat to catch up with her. Same lunch was joined by R, my previous office-compadre, who left me the dinosaur of the dinosaur and cow fame. I miss her. She's the mother of twins too, so much baby-talk was had and delicious bread-and-butter pudding was eaten by us non-pregnant ones, and devoured by those with babies in their bellies (pregnant women have a different view on food, seriously).

Saturday morning I ventured forth with my parents to visit my lovely aunt in The Littler Smoke next door to The Big Smoke. She's in hospital having a pacemaker put in because she's been walking around with a pulse of 39 for heaven knows how long - they found out doing a routine check up. She thinks she's going to feel like a million dollars and wonder why she didn't do it before. I hope she's right. I don't like hospitals, but was glad to see her.

Then I met up with Clive and Frank at Cranks for dinner, one of my favourite spots in The Big Smoke. And two of my favourite people. It's always so lovely to meet up with people who you know, and who know you, and, no matter how long the gaps are between seeing them, it's just, well, comfortable.

Sunday was spent with my sister-in-law's family in Small Town, SA (which I love, love, love)
- one of those places with wide streets filled with seventies-style shops and people who know each other, although this particular one is, I fear, not quite in the small town category anymore.

And then there were the people I didn't manage to see - quite a few of them damnit, there's always not enough time. Why is that? I think I need to write a letter to someone about it. Luckily the babies are going to arrive next month, necessitating another trip - yey!

I really have so much more to say about all of these things but this post is getting a bit rambling. And I have things to say about the movie, Milk, which I watched recently, and about people's behaviour on planes, and... and... oh, too much! Real Work calls though.

My main thing now, though, is a feeling of terrible displacement. I really feel that there is less and less holding me here, and more and more pulling me toward The Big Smoke, even just temporarily. I just need to find a way to earn a living there (or, alternatively, marry rich, or even just shack-up-rich, seeing as it'll be temporary).

I wonder if there's a speed-dating Facebook site for Temporary Shack-Up-Rich candidates?