Hello, blogosphere-waasis,

I know you missed me terribly. I know that, in the words of some immortal Mallus (my mother usually), that you were waiting for me, kannil ena ozhichu (with oil in your eyes - isn't Malayalam very descriptive?)

Things have changed, muchahos. I no longer live in the so-European of cities - Brussels. This is what transpired...

Sometime in the end of last year, I took stock of my life and decided that, whilst I really loved travelling, I wanted a place to call home, and a home I loved. I then decided that I would either change my job, or my home. Things fell into place, I decided I would move to Sydney and 3 weeks later, the decision was made.

So, now I live in Sydney.

And-I-saw-a-submarine-parked-in-my-backyard-bay-isn't-that-amazeballs? Yes, I have regressed; I use the word amazeballs in a non-ironic manner. It WAS amazeballs.

I am utterly, un-cynically in love with Sydney.  I wake up every weekend, with vague plans of what to do. These plans are usually scuppered, because all I can think of doing is curling up with a book in the park next to home and watch the million dollar yachts bobbing in the water. And of course, skip over to the Opera House to watch a show or two. And whilst there, pinch myself; because the weekend has just been perfect.

I am also utterly in love with my flat. For once, the house feels like home - it has things I love in it. (The story of how I sidled sideways into my couch will eventually be told... someday) Books, paintings, a kitchen that is big enough to use, and horrors, a home office with a chair!

I have grown up. And I even bought a washing machine.

It's ridiculous really.