Thursday, March 24, 2011

Post One Hundred and Eighteen: Little 'Funeral' House on the Prairie.



Some place real, some place different.

I'd love to start my own funeral business. A contemporary, customised, independent business that would turn the traditional funeral concept on it's left nut.

This isn't to say that the funeral businesses in Brisbane are no good. It's just that I can see a gap in the market, and if I had a million bucks or so I'd sure as hell like to have a crack. A lass has the right to dream.

I can see the premises in my imagination. Without a plastic flower or sateen tissue box cover in sight, the interior design itself would look more like somewhere you'd WANT to sit down, relax and sink a frosty ale. When you think of a chapel it's not particularly natural to think about comfort and relaxation, but there's no reason why it can't be the way.

I'd love a couple of vintage cars in the fleet, some cute staff and a killer coffee machine. Awesome couches. BAR. Community vegie garden. Quirky, but special. Great music, good art, positive vibes and open minds. Honest, compassionate customer service provision.

I like to think about this.

Peace. x

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Post One Hundred and Seventeen: Epilogue - Japan.



It's been too long.

Firstly I want to thank all the readers that have e-mailed me, concerned that I might have met an untimely ending. Imagine that, after that particularly sad and reflective last post. I'm not going anywhere for a while, even though I feel like dying. Since being home I've been sick with a tummy bug and my green cordial is making for an interesting vomit experience. Jokes aside, I am fine!

Anyway, the truth is that I was having a ridiculously great time overseas, meeting new people, eating shit loads of snow (It's tasty!) and experiencing all the rich culture that Japan has to offer. All this for three weeks or so, until the Earth decided to have a spazzy and cause havoc for my last couple of days.

Even then, after the quake, I was astounded at the dignity and order of the Japanese people. As a westerner looking on it was an interesting (and a bit of an eerie) experience to be a part of. There I was, concerned that my ovaries were being fried by leaking radiation. The locals on the other hand were courteous, helpful and polite even though their homes and lives were being threatened by a menopausal mother nature.

After public transport delays and flight diversions, I got home in one piece. I'm telling people that I was around the quake but not in it. For the big one I was actually in Kyoto riding a bike around stunning preserved streets and temples. I met a guy who made the cutest little statues out of silk worm cocoons. Feeling nothing but contentment and fatigue from a big day, I didn't find out about the disaster until I was ready to eat dinner that night. My sister, in AUSTRALIA, texted me afraid I was dead, and there I was chowing into good food and great beer.

So now I'm home and spewing. It's a sad end to an amazing time in my life. I've got many stories and photos to share, and at many points in the trip I was reminded about how my job has changed my perception of where and how I live in the world. And how I want to go forward.

Peace and love and a promise for more stories,
Sarah.

P.S. Those hot coffee cans in an otherwise cold can vending machine creep me out. I drunk most of that one, but it smelt like a post-pal dogs mouth. Then I pooped alot. I advise against anyone consuming one in the future.