One Day Until Spring

I started cleaning my bedroom today. It seems insignificant, but it is actually a huge undertaking. You can't see the carpet, you have to wade through knee-deep junk to actually even get to my bed, where you would be sleeping amongst school books, clothes and even my cd player lives on my bed sometimes.
So today I put every item of clothing on the floor, clean or dirty, into black garbage bags - I ended up with 5 of them. I always complain about having nothing to wear, despite having this many clothes... I think it's time for a purge. Op-shops, watch out! You're about to be innundated, my wardrobe is arriving on your doorsteps shortly!

There is a feeling of 'gotta do something' in the air at the moment. It's almost the census date for university, which means that I have to decide whether or not to pull out of my theatre class. I think the answer will be yes - there is no possible way that I can pass now.
I have been having major thoughts about university in general - I'm not sure it's the right place for me right now. This year has been an absolute mess. So many things that I assumed would fall into place just didn't - I'm always scraping to find photocopying money, I still don't have a laptop and I don't have any sort of social network. My house isn't the most ideal living environment. I'm still not used to the whole cooking for myself thing or organising food - for example, there have been entire weeks where I have only consumed fruit juice because I really don't know how to cook very well. I'm not settled enough to have regular music lessons or do any sort of organised exercise. Yet somehow I'm supposed to be pulling in the H1s when the rest of my life is in utter disarray.

I have a plan though - I've decided that next semester I should take a leave of absence. I can work, paint, cook, run around and generally spend a semester establishing some roots so I don't just blow away. I won't lose my scholarships. I haven't told my parents yet.

Benjamin is determined to see Snakes on a Plane. I will admit, I was incredibly skeptical but now that I understand it is kind of a joke that does take itself seriously.. it looks brilliant. I think we're going on Friday and trying to gather together as many people as possible for the outing. It seems like just the thing to warrant audience participation, popcorn throwing and lots of loud gasping and laughing.
Benjamin drove Lucien and I back to Melbourne last night after rehearsal. Trés fun! We bought popcorn chicken - I forgot how good it is, despite being absolutely oozing saturated fat and all kinds of chemical goodies. 'Tis strange, it's like everybody is moving either to Melbourne or at least moving. Nate just got a job as an IT engineer in the city, will be moving up shortly. I'd love to move in with him, but I really don't know whether it would be a fair pairing - an IT professional, and a struggling, scraping student. Someone who can afford so little for rent every week would just limit his opportunities, but we'll see. Lucien is probably moving up next year.

Ahh.. Hilde is in China for the rest of the year! Suki is working two or three jobs almost non-stop and can't see me, Maria just went to Greece and is planning to stay on in Europe at least till the end of the year, Louise moved to Brisbane and is planning to live in Thailand for at least some part of next year, Paul went to Philadelphia for the rest of the semester, Tasi just parties all night and sleeps all day, Lucien is a bit.. mmm, Audrey is too busy being a band-aid and young wild bohemian thing to have female friends that she isn't going to sleep with, Nate is in the new job honeymoon period, Benjamin is putting in the hard yards (it's the last six weeks of uni for him, EVER), Anne is busy running her own business, etc etc. It seems all of my friends are just so scattered at the moment - they're all floating around the world or their habits prevent them from being sociable. I miss them all.

It's my birthday in 14 days. I didn't do anything big last year, so I was planning on arranging something this year. Paintballing. Or laser challenge. Or a spring garden party. I don't know, but it doesn't seem worth it now. Practically everybody I'd want to invite is overseas or somehow unavailable. It's so depressing.. I think I'm going to have a me party. I'll buy some really nice bubble bath, pajamas and champagne bombs and a chick-flick. I'll curl my hair, wear pretty underwear with bows and lace and I'll paint my fingernails red. I'll make raspberry dacquiris. I'll have a one person slumber party and order Thai, to be delivered to my front door.
All by myself.
God, how depressing. Feels like Bridget Jones.

Maybe I'll get eaten by Alsatians too.

Pretty Silly

"Come home and take me in your arms..." - that is the second line of the Marilyn Hacker sonnet I posted last week. In my lecture notes, this line is described as vernacular, uncouth and colloquial. All these words have such negative connotations, like somehow the line doesn't measure up to how high-brow a sonnet is supposed to be. But it's one of my favourite lines, because it is so honest. It sounds like one of those sentiments that just falls out of your mouth in words that weren't pre-empted, something that comes straight from your heart without having to be processed by the brain first. I like spontaneous yet truthful effusions!

Lucien and I went on a mission last night - biscuit and juice hunting at 1am. What is it about late at night that awakens something crazy in me? We danced and sang our way to the supermarket, literally, until we saw some scary goths shouting drunkenly at each other in the street. We ended up with so much more than we had anticipated on.. Lucien bought two packets of raspberry tartlets (urgh) and a litre of blood orange juice for me, and I bought a packet of Venetian biscuits (my favourite) and some pineapple-coconut juice. Late nights also inspire bad eating habits.. out of all the three packets of biscuits we bought, there is nothing left. We did share them with my housemate though, who shared the late-night study-fest as he worked on his PhD thesis thing.

I wish my name was Twyla. Twyla Tharp. She's the lady above, kicking her leg out with the insane dress.. isn't she elegantly wild? I want to be elegantly wild.. I want to be the kind of woman that people take black-and-white photographs of, and they become iconic. Like Gene Tierney. I suppose she's another person who I think is beautiful... there she is to the right, her gaze like pure sensuality. My aunt Marie-Therese once said that I reminded her a little of Gene Tierney, that in one of her earlier films we looked like twins. I wish I could be as beautiful as her.

No, I'm not gay. I just appreciate beauty in general, but these women.. it's more that I wish I were like them. Unwaveringly confident about my sex appeal, self-assured, etc. I'll work on that, and maybe just maybe, I'll join the Half-Naked Thursday crowd!
Or not.

Right now I'm wearing a white cotton skirt with lace and tulle around the bottom. It has a subtle navy and red pattern of cherry blossoms and bamboo on it, and it's kind of sheer and floaty. An older woman on the tram this morning commented on it, telling me how beautiful it was and how nice I looked in it. I thanked her and smiled, but after I stepped off the tram, I felt like laughing at the absurdity of it. I feel like the most unattractive girl in the world right now.. my hair is fluffy and won't sit right, my face looks washed out and pale, there is no colour in my cheeks.. blah blah blah.
But it was enough for that woman to say something nice to just make me feel almost slightly pretty for the briefest of moments.

Grey Skies Overhead

Paul beat me to the punch, but did so more eloquently and imaginatively than I ever could. For details of our latest adventures, see his post!
It's just so tragic that as soon as I met him, he's leaving. And not for a little while.. forever (ok, well maybe a little less than forever). It will be unbearable.. like offering a blind person sight for a day and then taking it back, so they can spend every other day of their life feeling like it would never measure up to that one day.
Though Paul is definitely one to push the concept of fate and serendipity, so maybe it's for the best - leading to greater things later!

This weekend wasn't the greatest time to come home. My family seem to be spontaneously combusting.. right now, Ellen has run away for the weekend with random young hoons ("Full of sperm" - Larry Miller in 10 Things I Hate About You, see picture to the right), Vince is throwing a tantrum and refusing to go to Melbourne, Katie threw herself down the stairs and is giving an Academy Award winning performance on how 'injured' she is. Mom is at her wits end, understandably, but is taking it out on me. Feels like my life during high school all over again.
I'm hiding downstairs from all the yelling and fighting, but I haven't been immune by any stretch of the imagination. I have been criticised in none-too-polite language for: being a waste of space, being a disappointment, making a mess (I left my socks on the floor), etc. The worst part was when my Mom said, "Why did you bother coming here this weekend? There is no reason for you to be here, and you're just making everything worse."
So I'm not the happiest little girl in the world right now.

I will however make an effort to talk about happy things. Last night I spied a special edition green bag at the supermarket. It's not actually green - bright yellow with Radioactive Man from The Simpsons on it. I love it! It promptly became my bag-de-jour, accompanying me home this weekend.
I also found out which department I'll be working in at Myer - the Christmas department! Trés exciting. And yes, dear reader, I will probably be required to dress up as an elf at some point. There will be photos.

Uh. That's the best I can come up with. This weekend is almost doomed to be bad. It's cold, I'm not feeling very well at all, my family is on an absolute rampage, Lucien is busy, my head is inhabited by a now permanent dull ache, and my piano sounds very out of tune. I previously had so many wonderful plans that now seem so out of reach.

I was going to paint a picture on a canvas I brought back with me. I was going to wash all of my favourite clothes and pack them in a vintage suitcase and take pictures of it. I was going to take my puppy for a long walk by the river and have a picnic with her. I was going to sunbake on my back lawn. I was going to catch a bus into the city, buy some fabric and start work on the Magical Mystery Box (can't really talk about it - it's for someone who I know for sure reads this journal). I was going to invite Lucien over for a a two-person slumber party. I was going to find a stapler and some tape and make a Spring Racing Carnival outfit from newspaper. I was going to call Suki up for some Trivial Pursuit and noodles. I was going to make daisy chains in the meadow behind my house. I was going to make a mix tape for Paul, complete with narration. I was going to take a long hot bubble bath. I was going to make heart-shaped cookies with red icing for Lucien and then deliver them to him.

Alas. I'm not going to do anything now.
But at least this list is here for future reference. Maybe I'll do them once the storm passes.

Vampire Rose and the Champagne Bomb

This morning I was absolutely shocked as to what greeted me when I glanced upon the mirror. I looked like a vampire. My skin was very smooth and cold, but deathly white and you could see every tiny vein. My eyes were sunken, with great dark marks around them (natural, I discovered after I washed last night's mascara off). My lips were as white as my skin, and my cheeks looked like pale, cold stone. It was shocking.
I suppose that is what pulling an insane all-nighter including trips to the beach (4 degrees Celcius!), getting locked out of my room and sleeping on the mezzanine in the cold does to you.

7 hours later, there's still no colour in me. People have actually gasped when the looked at me - I seriously look dead. I feel like I'm teetering on the brink of passing out. Not necessarily sick, but exhausted.

My mother has demanded that I come home this weekend, and I'm glad. Home-cooked food, blankets, my favourite pajamas, central heating, my puppy, and best of all my Mom to look after me.

Ooh! I bought a chocolate from Myer today.. called a Champagne Bomb. It was the most incredible thing I have ever tasted and I can't believe how good it is. I'm still in raptures over how wonderful it was.. it was like milk chocolate with white chocolate drizzled over it, filled with champagne creme and a champagne flavoured liquer sauce. To die for... get them at the Nina's Chocolates counter at the Myer Food Hall. Warning - they are incredibly alcoholic and about $80 a kilo, so one is probably enough!

Did You Love Well What Very Soon You Left?

Did you love well what very soon you left,
Come home and take me in your arms and take
away this stomach ache, headache, heartache.
Never so full, I never was bereft
so utterly. The winter evenings drift
dark to the window. Not one word will make
you, where you are, turn in your day, or wake
from your night toward me. The only gift
I got to keep or give is what I've cried,
floodgates let down to mourning for the dead
chances, the end of being young,
for everyone I loved who really died.
I drank our one year out in brine instead
of honey from the seasons of your tongue.

- Marilyn Hacker, from Love, Death and the Changing of the Seasons

I like this sonnet. I'm trying to decide what my favourite from the book is, and this one is definitely shortlisted. Definitely read it - I wasn't such a fan of poetry before, but she has utterly captivated me.

Lucien came tonight. It wasn't quite the sunshine and rising crescendo of romantic music I had been hankering for, but lovely nonetheless. He's currently asleep in my bed, dreaming and keeping it warm for when I jump in beside him later. We went out for hippy vegetarian food and candlelight earlier and sat there staring at the table - I was headachey and he was dead tired after spending 5 hours on trains. Somehow with Lucien, the silences aren't bad or awkward.. he just holds my hand, kissing it every now and again, and we just relish being near each other. Time together is such a commodity.

I have to apologise for the last post.. just me feeling dangerous and fatalistic late at night.

There have been times in my life when friends have mattered enormously to me. In spring 2003 I spent about three or four months at home - it was that or going to hospital, and my doctor feared that the latter would send me over the edge. So there was no school, no going out except for occassional outings to the supermarket with my Mom, no 'overly stimulating' media. I basically spent the entire time lounging around on a hammock in my backyard, reading my little horoscope book, listening to Pink Floyd and drawing pictures.
But I received letters. Every single day, something new would arrive in the letterbox or get passed on via my sister. And not just letters, I got disks full of interesting photos, cds of music to make me better, envelopes full of notes that had been passed in class, colouring books and crayons from Tasi. As soon as I was sick, there was an outpouring of love and support from everybody I could imagine. Even teachers who had been yelling at me only a week before were suddenly sending me cards and even beautiful picture books to 'make me better'. Before I had often felt that I didn't have a friend in the world, but suddenly I was reminded of how blessed I was.

I think that recently I have been reminded once again of how important friends are. On Monday night, I had such absolute fun with Paul.. it was brilliant. I was like a kid, running around and doing random adventurous things for kicks and smiling like an idiot the whole time. Hell, I even snorted black pepper just to see what would happen. Things like that don't happen when you are by yourself. I'm finding more and more now that I don't want to eat unless it's with someone else, or get dressed in the morning unless it's for someone. I miss my friends from high school, but we're scattered at the moment.. and there is never enough time/money/availability/whatever for us to play together. I wish that they would, on a complete whim, decide to come adventuring with me like Paul did. Because that is the way friends should be.

"well I was watching donnie darko but I got bored and tried on all my dresses, got depressed and came upstairs to wallow in sadness" - Suki just said this to me on msn. I felt horrid.. and I wished I could just erase the distance between us, go over to her house with chocolate and hugs and finish watching Donnie with her. So I promised to go for noodles with her at the Nash on trivia night and just beat the pants off everybody. Both of us were unfortunate guinea pigs in the accelerated program at my school, so our heads are full of useless knowledge that is only really good for trivia. Should be fun.. maybe I should get drunk. Suki hasn't seen me drunk yet.

Keri Smith has been inspiring me today. Check her out - the link to her Wish Jar Journal is in the side bar.

Des Perles de Pluie

A phrase from one of my favourite songs, Ne Me Quitte Pas. Bic Runga does a particularly beautiful version of it on a live album, but it's hard to find. It only means 'drops of rain', but it sounds so nice to just run off the tip of your tongue. But simultaneously, I think is manages to convey a far more profound sense of wistful sorrow than the plain English 'drops of rain' could ever hope to evoke. Des perles de pluie.
I learnt French when I was overseas, for three years. Some phrases remain, like "J'aime la pomme de terre" (I like potato) and "Comment allez-vous?" (How do you do?). So many hours learning masculine and feminine, various ways to use verbs, etc.. and what do I have to show for it? I can't speak French, I can't even pretend or hope to be good at it. The whole thing absolutely smacks of mediocrity, which seems to be the central theme for my life.

Today hasn't been a very nice day. It hasn't even felt like a full day.. more like mismatched puzzle pieces. I honestly can't tell you whether something I recall from this morning actually happened this morning, or whether it's my mind remembering something from days ago and just blending everything together. I'm begging for a routine, something to regularly look forward to.

Sometimes, and today is one of them, I feel as though other people are the only thing that keep me from .. well, disappearing. Such cruel irony - that disappearing, usually considered an easy option or a release, would be the most difficult thing of all to actually do. I suppose making yourself disappear would be the ultimate selfish thing.. throwing yourself to oblivion without a care for how it might affect anybody else. Why does it have to be so hard?
For convenience, perhaps I should invent a machine. Once I step inside, it would alter past, present and future to a place where I didn't exist. Therefore nobody would feel the 'lack of me', nobody would have to arrange an appropriately ceremony, people's lives would be more full of the things they want to do rather than catering to the wishes of a particularly silly little girl. That creates a little issue - if I never existed, who would there be to push the button to permanently erase me? And if I couldn't push the button, how could I be erased in the first place? The cycle continues and there is still no solution. Not a permanent one, at least.

People like to imagine that dying is like going to sleep and never waking up. I'll go to bed now, and although I will probably wake up in the morning, at least for those precious few hours I will be blissfully and completely unaware of that unfortunate fact.

The Height of Dorkiness

It just started raining! I was so over-excited that I typed this into my browser - http://www.blogger.com!
Alas, Firefox didn't quite share my enthusiasm for the exclamation mark...
But why am I so excited about it raining? Because the seasons are changing. Instead of it being bitterly cold icy rain, it's actually kind of nice.. the most subtle reminder that summer is coming.

Ahh, auditions for Beauty and the Beast are coming up soon. It's ridiculous - by the time they actually arrive, I will have been working myself up into a frenzy for so long that I'm bound to blow it. I am aiming for the role of Belle, and it's definitely a long shot. Song choice is bothering me though - if there are any musical theatrical people out there, help me out! I have narrowed it down to "The Beauty Is" from The Light in the Piazza, or "Meadowlark" from The Baker's Wife. The first one I suppose is better for showing off my upper range, but the second one has a lot more scope for emotional intensity.Can't decide... head exploded! Maybe I should just rehearse the living daylights out of both, then choose impulsively when I get in there.

The Onion would have to be one of my favourite websites, and this article was just priceless. Such seriousness!

Celebrity Launches Own-Breasts Awareness Campaign

Oh, another plug -
Jason turned me on to this - freaky little puppet man making a 'beat'. It's strangely hypnotic. Check it out!

The Dreaded 'M' Word

Call me temperamental if you wish, but today I had just had enough of certain housemates. I got home to find the same old cesspool, inhabited by chauvanistic, racist and rude 'blokes'. I bared it for all of ten seconds before making more snide remarks and leaving. It's bitchy and I feel like such an overly-sensitive brat for just walking out, but I think they need to remember that a girl lives here too. It's not exactly welcoming to me for them to converse exclusively about parts of female anatomy and what they would like to do to them.

Today marked 21 months with Lucien. It is a long time. On the train this morning, I ran into my friend Jason who said, "21 months? It's been too long - break up or get married already." Sure, Jason is a bit of a dork whose track record with relationships is very sketchy, but he has a point. It is scary that I am being urged to consider the 'm' word by people, jokingly or not. I am 18 years old - sure, people would get married at 16 in the old days, but I'm far too young. It is hard to imagine how quickly girls would have to grow up back then, becoming wives and mothers before they had reached their twenties. Having to accept or reject a man that they would spend the rest of their life with, before they would have been old enough to drive, drink or vote - one of the most important things in their entire life, something that would eventually become a part of them and define their role.. and they were being encouraged and perhaps even pushed into it when barely out of training bras.
But I suppose for a woman in days gone by, a husband really was the only thing that there was to define you, unless you had other 'attributes'. In Jane Austen's Emma, the title character sees no shame in being single because of her respectability and wealth, but things are different for women in other positions (ie. Miss Bates). For Emma, being an old maid is not such a terrible fate if you have enough of your own 'steam' (wealth, title, status, etc) to support yourself as an outstanding member of society. It is a horrid thing to view a woman only in terms of her husband, or her father's wealth/title.. but things really were like that once.
I'd like to think that things have changed, but there is still so much more to be done. Once in a relationship, is a woman expected to cease being a separate entity? I couldn't be merely an attachment of someone else; I wouldn't take it. But a lot of people insinuate that such an arrangement is just the way that things ought to be.
For me, marriage is something that doesn't actually mean that much. It's just a word, a piece of paper. It can't keep people together if they don't love each other, and people can quite easily and happily stay together forever even if they are not married. So what is the point? I suppose being 'married' would just really confirm and slap a label on something that already was.

Lucien is managing to surprise me more and more, which is quite a feat for the boyfriend of a girl who demands surprise constantly. He's coming to visit me on Wednesday, planning to take me out for dinner and some other things that he is keeping under wraps. I'm looking forward to it so much... these last few weeks have not left much time for us. I'm actually quite proud of myself for taking it with such good nature - previously, I would have been a crumpled mess of a girl by this time, probably sobbing on the phone or desperately catching late trains to him. I think I'm doing well this time.

It was a glorious night tonight. Lucien was unfortunately detained - he had a major essay to hand in today, and has to give a big presentation on Wednesday. But I found a willing playmate once again in the form of Paul. I was dead-set on going for an adventure, but what we ended up doing was so much more fun than any traditional adrenaline-pumping activities. Yummy pizza with pumpkin and rocket, fascinating conversation over tea at the Westin, antics with a shopping trolley at the university. We got sort of yelled at by a drunk/drug-addled busker in the subway. We took some pictures of the clocktower in the dark.. it looked so beautiful with the nighttime clouds around it, reflecting in the moat (which I stupidly stuck my foot in to see how deep it was, making my foot slimy). I also came up with the brilliant idea of snorting ground pepper, just to see what would happen. Tres amusing for everybody around, I'm sure! But generally, the night was an absolute success. I drove Paul crazy with my indecisiveness though...
It turned out to be the most fun I have had in a long time.. reminding me a little of the type of fun I'd have with Louise when we'd get into crazy moods. I am a little sad that she decided to run away to Queensland, but I suppose that the lack of her has made me more likely to make other friends too! She'll be glad to come back and find me a little more independent.

Back at my apartment now, and it's not quite as bad as when I left. The boys were being relatively civil and even friendly - the main offender had already gone to bed by the time I got in (past 1am!).

The calm won't last though.. it never does.

A 'Sigh' Kind of Moment

It's almost 2am and I'm still up and about. Freezing cold to the point where I can't quite feel my hands and feet. And I am listening the Mozart's Requiem on repeat - a surefire way to put myself in a melancholic mood. Why am I doing this to myself? I'm not sure, but it will definitely be bedtime soon, simply so I don't get sicker from being in the cold. Sleep would be nice, but I can't depend on getting any.

Rehearsals for Anything Goes are going nicely for most of those involved. We practiced a big ensemble number (I'd never learnt it before, but it was easy enough to pick up), but of course, something managed to go wrong. Feeling dizzy and somewhat nauseous from the medication that is supposed to be making me better, I fell off a chair that I was dancing on as I did a turn. Great fun. It wasn't too bad, some dancers managed to sort of catch me before I hit the ground.
Despite that, the day redeemed itself by offering some costume fittings. It's silly, but trying on costumes is possibly one of my favourite parts of the rehearsal process. And today's outfits were no exception. I have three costumes in the show - two daywear ensembles and an evening gown. I have only been fitted for the first two costumes so far - I'll describe them!

The first dress is a delightful little white dress, mid-calf length with a dropped waist. It has a navy blue band around the hips and some nice navy bands along the oversized collar. Basically, think cute sailor. I'll have to find a hat to go with this outfit, it's tremendously cute.
The second dress is red with tiny little white polka dots. It's longer, with a white sort of frill around the hem. The sleeves are tiny little buttoned-up things that look oh so elegant. It buttons up at the front and has a little white belt. I adore it!
I'm really really *really* hoping for a little red flapper dress for the second act.
There will definitely be some pictures coming.

I promised last post that I would enlighten you a little about this idea of 'tribes'. Well, it began when I met possibly one of the most wonderful, interesting, beautiful and magical friends of all time. We have fallen out of contact for the moment, but I just know we will meet up again one day. Anyway, this delightful individual was my Year 11 Drama teacher. Ophelia. She became a best friend for Louise and I, someone who we would jump at any opportunity to spend time with. One day, she told us of tribes - she confided in us because she just knew that we were from the same tribe. You know how people often say that soulmates are when a single soul dwells in two bodies? A tribe is like that, but on such a larger scale. Not all of the tribes are the same size, nor do the tribe's members have to be romantically in love in the same way as is expected of soulmates. It is just people who 'understand' each other on a scale that is barely tangible, people with that magical magnetism towards each other for reasons they can't comprehend - almost like there is a common element to unite a tribe, with a shard of it dwelling within each person...
This probably makes no sense. I think I'll have to draw a picture.

For the record, Lucien and I decided that we are from different tribes, but tribes which complement each other wonderfully.

Erk, it comes the time to go to bed. But not before the compulsory plug - Julian Nation. A lovely singer-songwriter I know. He's recently received some airplay on Triple J and FBi radio in Sydney, and just released his album "We Are All Writers" - available at Polyester on Brunswick Street or via www.bookclubrecords.com/. You know you want to! He's lovely.

Goodnight moon.

House of Mirth

I've had enough - it's time to move. Yesterday I returned home not to the catastrophic mess that my house was, but something altogether worse. Bottle caps littering the floor, the sink full of dirty dishes, half-eaten meals sitting on the bench, dirty tea towels lying on the floor, week-old scraps of fast food hiding against the skirting board. And to top it off, two of my Neanderthal housemates were drinking to the point of drunkeness at 3pm whilst loudly playing Monopoly and berating everybody in sight. I copped a serve about being a first year, wearing a dress and having 'bad' taste in music, and once again they started on Will for the fact that he has basic hygiene and can speak understandably! I felt like screaming. I also felt like slapping them both and telling them exactly what I thought, but I did neither. I eventually made some snide remarks, grabbed enough stuff for the rest of the weekend and stormed out.

But enough on that. It is a ridiculous situation, and I'll be glad to get out of there.. but so many other lovely things happened before that nastiness. Let's start from the beginning.

Friday morning was divine. A perfect morning of pancakes, window shopping, random acts of kindness and the most wonderful type of company - Paul. I hadn't quite met him before other than seeing him around campus, but as he is leaving for Philadelphia quite soon, it had a sense of 'now or never'. I'll have to post more about this theory later, but he is definitely a member of my tribe. We had breakfast at Morgan's on Collins Street, then went window-shopping, visiting RetroStar (vintage clothes), Anton's (unusual haute couture) and Smiggle (stationary), which was torturous. So many beautiful things that I wanted, but alas! I haven't started properly at Myer yet, so I don't really have the funds to buy anything. But lots of fun was had nonetheless, especially when I tried on a particular crazy purple dress. It had puffed sleeves and a full skirt, with square pieces of lace sewn onto it, with ribbons everywhere. Paul has a photo of it, perhaps he'll publish it.

After the mid-morning sojourn, I headed to Carlton and then Richmond for various medical appointments. I have bronchitis (spelling?) at the moment, which is just peachy. And now the medication to make me better is making me dizzy and nauseous. Even better!

My Dad then picked me up to have dinner with him, and my new step-mother and step-sister. This was interesting - they only got married a week ago, and already the status quo is changing rapidly. The daughter, let's call her Scarlett, tends toward being a spoiled brat. She's the only child of a single mother who doubles as a business executive - Scarlett is very used to getting what she wants, and being a little cow about EVERYTHING. But there was a noticable change in the air.. suddenly she was not getting her way, and being ignored when she sulked.

Though apart from the absolute insolence that is my new step-sistet, I had a nice time. We went out for pasta in Kew and then took a walk around a very nice shop - Leo's Fine Food and Wine. I didn't end buying anything, but just being surrounded by such interesting things was a treat in itself. There was every type of tea you could imagine, packages of dried rosebuds to put in cocktails, kinds of pumpkins I'd never seen before, tiny roasting quails the size of your palm, and little biscuits that looked like sculptures. I felt like an explorer - a shop full of curiosities!

I ended up staying the night, and the next morning we went to the Richmond and then Queen Victoria Markets. I bought three particularly beautiful blood oranges to draw pictures of before eating, a pig's trotter for my puppy, a slice of French almond tarte to share with Lucien, and then - my bargain of the day! A fishmonger called out to me to buy the last of his mussels. $4 a kilo, so I obliged. He measured them out to a kilo, then added the rest of the mussels in the tray. It came to about 1.7kg, to which he remarked, "Well then, that's the biggest kilo I've ever sold!". So yes, dear reader, I scored a ridiculous amount of mussels for $4.
I took them home to my Mom, after the housemates debarkle - we sauteed them in butter, wine, garlic, ginger and chilli. So good! If only I could cook...

Such a nice weekend, now the week looks all the more dreary in comparison. Oh well, I'll keep my chin up.

Terminally Creative

Well, it's 3am on a Friday morning and I'm not asleep. No, I was sitting at the kitchen table cutting words out of the newspaper to make interesting and non-sensical sentences. I then turned to the real estate guide to make the biggest and best house imaginable out of pictures of ordinary houses. Both my creations are still sitting on the kitchen table waiting to be defiled by philistine housemates in the morning. 'Tis sad, but it is even sadder that I have to be up in time for breakfast in the city with a friend tomorrow morning. I hate early starts, but I suppose I should get used to them.

Will (housemate) and I watched V for Vendetta tonight. I saw it before at the cinema with Lucien (boyfriend) and thoroughly.. enjoyed is the wrong word. Rather, it stirred me. As a film, I liked the experience, but as a piece of culture or dare I say literature it was powerful. The story of Guy Fawkes was something I grew up with in Taiwan, and after having to delve so deeply into George Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four (I played Julia in a play version), it seemed to just mean something entirely deeper than any normal blockbuster-type film would. Plus Hugo Weaving gets major points for having such a sexy voice.

I forgot to eat dinner again tonight. I suppose it's something about living (practically) by myself. If I had Lucien here or friends constantly around to cook for, it would be something enjoyable. But althought I can see the point in cooking nutritious food for myself, I really can't be bothered. Tonight was half a cheeseburger, a glass of juice and some celery smeared with peanut butter. Healthy. I tried to make some pancakes, which resulted in setting off the smoke detector.. at 2am. Not a great idea when there are sleeping people who have to wake up in 3 or 4 hours.

Oh, and I have to share this - it kept me amused all day. Richard Cheese coupled with cheeky, childish animation is definitely a winner.

Introducing Rose

Let's see..
About to turn 19 and being one of the city's newer residents, I'm a girl on a mission. To conquer Melbourne. Not with an arsenal of guns or by setting hearts alight (though the latter could be fun..), I just want to live and love the city. And tell you all about it

So, I might as well introduce myself. My name is Rose, I'm a recent high school graduate who decided to jump in the deep end - moving out and starting at the University of Melbourne (Arts), majoring in Philosophy and Literature. My place of residence is Brunswick, though I have a plan of moving to St Kilda sometime soon (closer to the beach, and near Luna Park which I adore). I have had the misfortune to be one of those terminally creative people, the kind who are so bursting with random spontaneous creativity that they never end up getting anything done. Tragedy indeed. For instance, I'm currently supposed to be writing an essay on Plato's theory of the Tripartite Soul (due yesterday). Mmm..

My passions apart from exploring the city, lie in generally 'arty' spheres (dare I call them 'lofty'?). I am a theatre brat, both watching and participating - currently I'm rehearsing for Cole Porter's Anything Goes, understudying the role of Hope Harcourt. I also like painting, playing piano and violin, travelling, shopping, socializing, cooking, listening to music, reading and occassionally being athletic. Currently, I'm deliriously in love with a delightful young man named Lucien - alas! He lives an hour from me, so we don't get to see each other so often, but when we do it's just glorious. I just got a job at Myer Bourke St, so more details as I know - I literally got the job today.

So make up a pitcher of some delectable cocktail, put on the jazz and put up your feet! Happy reading.