I’m listening to ABBA’s Dancing Queen right now because last night, Hook and I watched Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. By the end of the movie, we both wanted to hear more Mama Mia! How many people would be willing to admit that out loud to the world? If you live in Texas and you run into Hook, feel free to let him know that you know that he’s an ABBA fan. But shhh, don’t tell him you read it here or he’ll forbid me to blog any more.
The Priscilla movie was recommended to us from a reader (thanks Lisa Grantham in Texas) who answered the Where in Australia – Part II. She also recommended the Great Dividing Range and the Springbrook Glow Worms for Hook’s science fetish. From Karin @KandKAdventures in Canada, we got recommendations to enjoy Sorrento and Mornington Peninsula which are a 3 hours’ drive from Melbourne.
I wanted to watch the movie because it was filmed in Australia. It’s about some colorful queens who travel across the country in a bus to do singing shows. I decided not to tell Hook what the movie was really about otherwise I’d never have gotten him to agree to watch it. About twenty minutes into the movie he asked, “Are those men dressed up as women?” Ah, the working mind of a Ph.D. 😉
ABBA To The Rescue
Woah, did somebody have a meltdown last week? I’m not sure where that came from except the deep recesses of my heart. Those thoughts have been lingering, hovering, waiting for that camel with the last piece of straw. But think of it this way, especially if you’re a guilty party: If I smack your face because you offend my husband and everyone else with candy at least you’ll know why. Knowing me, knowing you, we’ll both get over it. (Gosh, I’m thoughtful.)
I’ve spoken my peace on this for now. At some point in the future, I will write in length about how I believe (have always believed) that each of us must own the responsibility for our own health. We owe it to ourselves but also the rest of society to treat our bodies like the temples they are. But just not today, okay. I’ve reeled in an SOS on your part. I’m overdosing on ABBA over here in Austin, Texas, by the way.
ABBA was Swedish or something not even from Australia but once those songs take root in your head, it’s hard not to want to don lamé and dance around the living room. What? Not everybody does this? Liars.
How ABBA Can Work for You
A friend recently found out her husband has prostate cancer. Although the removal of the prostate is becoming more common, if you’re the spouse hearing this news, it’s a shock and not a good one. The WHAT IFs alone can push you over the edge. I wish I knew exactly why it was that I trusted everything would work out for Hook. Or, why I trust that whatever happens, we’ll figure it out, we’ll manage. I think when you accept that you really have no other choice (accept, don’t accept), you go with what will make you less crazy.
To the outside world, our life may not have appeared to resemble fun or joy. We had a choice to cry or not cry. Sometimes we cried, but mostly we endured in whatever way we knew how. It was enough to make a person want to sing Take a chance on me while begging for their life.
Whatever may be on your plate in terms of trials and tribulations, find something to hold onto. For me it was faith—that’s God for those of you not in the know—and a lame sense of humor and today, a little ABBA.
Lame in my lamé . Now off to dance to some Waterloo and how many of you want to bet the Hooks end up dancing our way all the way down to Australia!
Note from Editor: When I think ABBA I think Australia because of Muriel’s Wedding — doh!