So lately my blogs have been pretty depressing, what with all the gloom and doom of working in a hospital.  My life is not so bad, really! 

Throughout my life, I've entertained fantasies of what the next stage of my life will be like. 

In junior high, I dreamed of high school.  I was bound and determined to be popular for once in my life, so I put my out of shape ass through hell trying out for the volleyball team.  I'd never played volley ball in my life.  I hate sports.  I hate running.  I'm totally uncoordinated.  I hate catching balls.  I broke my finger.  I got cut from the team.  I became an angry hippie.  Not exactly what I'd planned!

In high school, I fantasized about college.  I envisioned late nights hanging out with the girls on my hall.  I saw myself studying under a tree filled with red and gold leaves.  I saw many nights of drinking myself stupid.  I dreamed of parties, of enthralling psychology classes, and of food fights in the cafeteria.  I saw freedom.  In many ways, my predictions were accurate.  I made some of the best friends I could ever wish for, I learned heaps (or at least I think I did...I'd be hard pressed to pass a geography/physics/religion test now!), I got myself in a fair amount of trouble whilst drinking myself stupid...it was the true college experience!

Towards the end of college, I dreamed of my career.  I wanted to help people, so I took a job with kids with developmental disabilities.  I also dreamed of having my own apartment, a step above the holes I lived in during my last year of college.  I dreamed of decorating the place.  I would watch hours upon hours of Trading Spaces.  I asked for homewares for Christmas.  I trolled the clearance aisles at Target.  I stalked garage sales.  When I moved in with Katie, I watched my fantasy come to life.  The place was gorgeous!  We had so much fun putting everything together, buying bits and peices to make everthing perfect.  We still talk fondly of that place.  For me, it was more than an apartment, it was my first taste of life as a grown up.  Paying my own way. 

Then we decided to move to New Zealand.  I fantasized about living abroad, meeting gorgeous foreign men, travelling around the country, having a little loft apartment and shopping for groceries at the local market, carrying a baguette under my arm as I strolled down the street..........this didn't work out as I'd fantasized!  I got stuck in a shit job, ate 2-minute ramen noodles (no baguette in sight!  At least not that I could afford...and where's the quaint little market???  And where's my loft apartment?  I live in a sweat box cubicle where I can hear my neighbors use the toilet!)

Then I started work at the hospital.  The money improved, as did my quality of life.  My urban fantasy started to spring to life.  We moved into a fabulous flat with big windows and cool furniture in a funky area of town.  I still hadn't found my baguette, but I was within walking distance of great cafe's and shops.  In the crisp cool of the morning I would walk to work, and get Thai takeaway for dinner on my way home.  This is what I wanted!

Then I met Bob and my romantic fantasy came to life.  I met a fabulous man who swept me off my feet.  I experienced love at first sight.  I recommend it to everyone!

Having lived my urban fantasy, I started to entertain my suburban fantasy.  Katie and I dreamed of a proper house, a yard, a clothes line, and we found it.  We had barbeques.  We had a dog.  We had a fireplace.  We had grass.  We heard nothing but crickets and cicadas at night.  It was bliss.

With Bob in the picture, I started to fantasize about playing house.  I dreamed of waking up on Saturday morning and baking scones, of vacuuming while he mowed the lawn, of making grocery lists and walking hand in hand down the aisles...of being a domestic goddess.  This fantasy has come true as well, as we share our little house on this shaded, green street, as he kisses me good bye when he drops me off at work in the morning.  I've perfected carrot cake, banana bread, and peach cobbler.  And I make a mean pan of enchiladas, thanks!  We have dinner parties and I set the table with pretty placemats and matching napkins.  And my bathrooms are always clean...at least on Saturdays!  And now, with my discovery of a farmer's market that operates on the weekends near my house, I might actually get to stroll home with a baguette under my arm.

If you were lured in by the title "Fantasies" and hoping for porn, I'm sorry to disappoint you.  Wait, no I'm not!  Dirty sucker!