Jet(s)lag.
I have been home for 24 hours, and this whole sleep/body clock thing is doing my head in. I woke up at 2pm today (normal for some humans, not for me) and had to try make myself go to sleep at 10pm tonight. So far, not so good. I am now wide awake, as if it is only 3 in the afternoon.
So instead, I'm watching movies starring James Marsden (this ain't cool!), eating my all time fave "Crunchy Combo Sprouts" from Coles (yew Straya) and listening to James Blake's new album. Apparently Eurovision was on tonight, but I believe that once you've walked through the underground metro systems and witnessed smelly Parisians drunkenly stumble around singing their favourite Craig David songs, you've pretty much seen Eurovision... am I right?
My journey home was actually quite delightful. On my second flight (from Abu Dhabi to Sydney after getting frisked by some arab woman for anything dangerous on my "person"), I was seated beside two guys, one sat in the window seat keeping to himself, and the other between the two of us. I got comfortable, pulling out a book. It was titled L'Alchemiste by Paulo Coehlo (The Alchemist, but published in French). The guy chuckled beside me then with a southern american accent he excused himself, asking whether I knew that the author was Brazilian. I nodded and smiled back to him, and he admitted he, too was Brazilian. He then added: "I just have to say this; I noticed you on the first flight from Paris. When I was walking along the aisle, I saw you watching a film, it was French, with Audrey Tautou. And then you are here now reading a book in French written by my favourite author from my own country. You have made such an impression on me."
I reckon, if an ugly middle aged man had said this I would have been traumatised, but he was my age, Brazilian, and gorgeous. So, I win.
It got me thinking though, when people you don't know, or people you do know but have lost contact with, say that you really are something special, it just sticks with you. I have been told by someone that they were inspired by my vivacity ever since they taught me music in primary school. I have been told that what I am doing is incredible, that the tribulations I have endured I have overcome with class, and with humility. Those words will always mean so much to me.
The reunion I had with my mum affirmed this. In the car home from Sydney she told me about her day's adventures through my previous stomping ground and to my work place, and how the people from my life had said such wonderful, encouraging things about me to her. It's so wonderful to know, even after you have left a place or a marking point in your life, that you continue to develop friendships, or at least meaning in other people's lives.
