Marriage and happy ever after

Today I took my Granny to see the gorgeous movie Julie and Julia, with the truly glorious Meryl Streep and the darling Amy Adams. It tells the story of Julia Child - an American who learnt to cook in Paris, circa 1950ish, and revolutionised cooking in America by showing Americans the French way with food.

It also tells the story of Julie Powell, an unhappy office worker circa-now, who cooks her way through Julia Child's seminal cookbook, hoping to add a bit of spice to her life, and blogs about this process (and has an international following, and gets a book and movie deal through this - wow!).

I loved every minute of the film, every second of it. Of course, it was not a perfect film, but it was beautiful - the food, the location, the storyline, the writing, the characters, the recipes.

I absolutely loved Meryl Streep's depiction of Julia Child (whom I knew nothing about before this film), she just seemed to be such a fantastic woman. Her physicality was fascinating to me - tall, big (not fat, but big - wide hips, large hands, sturdy thighs, long feet), with great frocks and toweringly tall high heeled shoes, and she adored food and was not afraid to eat healthy portions of good cheese, butter, meat and dessert.

As a tall, big woman myself who absolutely lives for food (and cooking) it struck a chord. I particularly adored the part when Julia's sister came to stay and was also a superbly tall and big lady with a healthy appetite and a great personality. It gave me a nice boost of self-appreciation to see these two magnificent, tall, gloriously grand characters; they just wouldn't have been the same had they been short, fine boned, small bottomed gals.

Anyway, all of that is an aside to what I really wanted to write about today, as indicated by the title of this post. Because the thing I loved most about this film was its depiction of marriage.

I got married this year, back in May N and I tied the knot. We'd been together for almost five years when we did this, and we'd tossed up whether or not we wanted to get married for a long time, but in the end decided it was the way for us.

I tell you this because I do not wish anyone reading this to think that we see marriage as essential to a meaningful, commited relationship, nor are we religious and therefore following a guideline. We just thought it was right for us, it's what the two of wanted for our lives. Therefore my discussion below portends more to commited relationships in general, rather than marriage in particular.

That was a bit of a convoluted way to get back to my point, but........

Julie and Julia shows two delightful marriages, filled with love, passion, sadness, loss, frustration, anger, and the billion other experiences and feelings that exist in a committed relationship. It was just wonderful to see marriages depicted that way because I am worn out of films, books, television shows, songs etc. etc. that tell endlessly depressing stories about marriage and relationships and there inevitable and bitter endings.

I am tired of hearing the statistics on relationships that end, and I want to hear about relationships that continue, that grow and flourish throughout peoples lives even as life throws up its various challenges.

Reading some different reviews about Julie and Julia many writers said they hated the 'sex scenes' (if you can call them that, it was more 'kissing scenes eluding to the fact that sex might happen'), they didn't like seeing the grand Julia Child getting down and dirty with her husband. I liked this, it's nice to know that people have sex even when they've been married awhile, and it's nice to know that Julia's husband enjoyed her big bottom, wide hips and sturdy thighs.

I also liked that both couples in the film had fun together. They ate delicious meals with candles and the TV off, they held dinner parties, and both couples, but particularly Julia and her husband laughed a lot together (oh, the delightful Valentine's postcards they sent their friends!). I loved seeing this, instead of dreary story after dreary storyof marriages where the couple don't speak, or if they speak they are hiding hateful feelings behind closed faces. Where they watch TV together shovelling in their food rather than eat a meal at the table, and if they have sex its vengeful and hate filled rather than loving and playful (i.e. Revolutionary Road or The Slap anyone, reading/watching those depictions of relationships made me want to vomit!).

Or, if a commited relationship is described positively it's just the start of that relationship that is discussed- the first kiss is shown, and suddenly we flip forward to 5 years down the track, and it's all smiles, and the woman has a pregnant belly or baby on her hip.

Before I wrote this post I read that Julie Powell actually cheated on her husband about two years after she completed the blogging project which is the basis for the movie. Obviously this incident is not mentioned in the film, nor should it be because it happened a long time after the film is set. But, this depresses me no end, could a real happy ever after not happen?

But still, the film tells the story of two lovely marriages and I'm going to concentrate on that. And it's now one in three marriages that end in divorce, I think, but that means that two in three marriages last and I choose to see the glass as two thirds full, rather than one third empty.

I try Brisbane, I do try!

Our Story Bridge

Their Harbour Bridge

After finally handing in evil mini-masters thesis on Thursday last week N and I descended south to Sydney-town for a weekend of revelry with our expanding network of friends and family down there.

We stayed just off Oxford street, right near Hyde Park, on the cusp of the city, in Darlinghurst. Great location, mediocre hotel, sky-high prices........but that's Sydney, it's a big city, we expected this. So, Thursday eve, after we checked in, we ventured out for a vino or 7 to celebrate the end of 6 months+ of pure stress and anxiousness over study, and life generally.

Being Sydney, and near Darlinghurst, we of course found the cutest, chic-est little bar just around the corner and there we sat and sipped on lovely pinot gris, ate delicious prawn risotto balls and loved our lives for a few moments. When N went to the bar I flipped through a nearby street press (checking out the Sydney SP stakes as I write for a fabulous SP here in Brisvegas), and discovered that our favourite band Fat Freddy's were playing in Sydney the next two nights. Of course the gigs were sold out. But, as I looked through the street press I thought 'bless this city' that has a billion and one great things on all at once, rather than a city that has one great thing on and a billion and one people coming to it!

Anyway, the next day N and I got energetic and caught the bus to Bondi to do the coastal walk along all the gorgeous Eastern beaches. Kitted out in our walking boots, hats and long sleeved shirts we overlooked glorious spots such as Tamarama, Bronte, Clovelly and the beautifully tanned half-naked bodies spending their fridays lazing in the sunshine. We walked past a magnificent graveyard just past Bronte ,with all those resting there having prime ocean views for eternity.

We then raced home and dressed for our evening, as we were going to see our Cate (Blanchett) light up the stage as Blanche DuBois in A Streetcar Named Desire. We decided to walk to the theatre from our hotel - possibly not the best move as we ran hell late for dinner, but just walking through this lively city on a Friday night is a treat. And walking out of the city we were once again bowled over by the harbour views and those iconic structures which amaze even after 10, 20, 30, 100 sightings.

The play itself was magnificent, with Cate the most accomplished performer I have ever seen live, and the rest of the cast clearly stronger for her ability. The theatre was packed out, literally not a seat was spare, and famous people - minor and major - caught our eyes with each head turn.

On the following day we went over to Cremorne Point to catch up with our family, and see our beautiful little nephew who's grows more and more like a little boy than a baby each time we see him. We sat in the sunshine on the harbour, eating chicken, coleslaw and fresh bread and watching boats race each other. N and I were in absolute shock at how stunning it was, just down the road from where our family live, there is all of this.......unbelievable.

Each time we go south, N and I always, without fail, say to each other 'I couldn't live here', and this is very much the case. The traffic (I don't care what the Sydney people say, traffic in Brisbane is NOT like that), the expense, the very poor public transport, the fact that there just seems to be hundreds of people without homes on the streets each night - it's not the city for me. But, by goodness, it is so lovely to visit.

Brisbane I try, I do try. I try to create fabulousness within you, staging exhibitions and events; I try to attend as much as I can to support your growth; I try to inhabit your beautiful spaces by the river; I try to enjoy your simple beauty. But, sometimes I do get struck down by what a battle it is up here. For example, we would never even have the option of having Cate Blanchett co-directing our theatre company, so we will never have the packed houses and the famous faces attending the events, we will certainly never have Pink! performing at our fundraising events for the theatre company. We will never have the multitude of great cultural events on every night of the week, meaning, sadly for me, we will never have the multitude of great cultural jobs. We don't have beaches right in the city (and I'm sorry Southbank does not count, not one bit), we don't have the range of gorgeous bars, cafes, cute shops, beautiful galleries etc. etc. that sit on the corner of each street down there.

And, I try Brisbane, I try not to be jealous. Because I am here because I want to be, I want to add to the cultural life of this place; N and many of our friends can start small entrepreneurial businesses here and give them time to grow and not be washed down the sinkhole by huge rents and vast competition; I want to build this city with all the other marvellous creative minds that stay and fight for your cultural development (and I know I sound very majestic, and very full of it, but it's true). Sometimes though, the thought creeps in, it would be nice just to go South, walk into a pretty great job with one of the plethora of cultural organisations there, and just enjoy the beach 10 minutes down the road, have 500 choices for what to do on Saturday night, and where to eat and where to drink.

You know, if you're reading this, that sometimes you feel this too, and my goodness it feels fabulous to breathe out and admit this occassionally. But, it makes me all the more determined to keep living in, appreciating and adding to our own gorgeous city and to bring to Brisbane a different kind of magnificence, but one that is cheaper, has better public transport and less homeless folk.