Moving In

So I've arrived in Melbourne. It feels like I barely left. The two and a half months I spent in Malaysia seem like a blur in my head, vague and dreamlike, the memories becoming less sharp in my head. Melbourne feels comforting, a reminder of my independence, the images of a young woman growing up and becoming and adult, even more so now I am to move into a new apartment.

Flying with Nat made the flight so much more fun, despite the snobby cabin staff. There is something about flying with a friend that helps the flight goes faster as opposed to having your enthusiasm dampened down by other harrassed and stressed passengers.

James has been invaluable in terms of helping me out with the apartment. We spent the better part of yesterday assembling chairs and other various pieces of furniture before I insisted on him teaching me how to cook. So we did. At one point I was struck by the situation; me cleaning up the house and putting last minute touches unto the chairs we had just assembled while he stirred the sauces in the kitchen. It was all so... homelike. We sat and had dinner in front of the television and talked about stuff.

His muscle came in handy when I had to move all my stuff in today as well. I hate moving with a passion. I suppose having another person actually handle all the heavy, awkward stuff for you makes a vast difference. There's something to be said about a guy who works out. Especially when he's helping me move heavy boxes, looks good while doing it and manages to be good company at the same time.

It's the first time I've ever had to be self sufficient. The apartment's my very first step into the grown-up world of paying bills and standing on my own two feet. Where my keys let me into my own place, not a room in a dorm or a hostel. Where I have a kitchen, my own dryer and washing machine, and balcony.

It's almost like playing house.