spot on... where are ya?

spot on
i had to put this up cause its so beautiful...

silly cake quiz...

im reasearching at the moment
a very serious matter.

birthday cakes. remember the ones your mum used to make from the womans weekly cookbook. you know the ones, the cstle with ice cream comes, the swimming pool, the numbers with smarties, the ballerina, the train...

ive been known to make variations, for friends in high school i made such things as tweety bird, sunflowers, elmer fudd, tazzie devil
and more recently a guitar cake, a giant bird.

anyway. its a special persons birthday really soon so im brainstorming.

i went here...

its taken things a little too far really... a quiz?

and do you know what one i got?
'fun at the beach'


apparently i also like dinner on the grill...

time for... a cool change....

call me a rotten and horrble person for dissing this weather,
but i cant wait to go brrr.
i cant wait to wear the legwarmers, and stockings,
and give all my happy little knits a burl.
ive even been slowly collecting up mohair scarves for the occasion.

i know i might change my mind when it comes,
but i think its time for a cool change.


ive not really noticed before, and im sure evyone else has,
but ive been getting stroppy....
oh yeah on friday i wrote how happy i was... and how nothing could get better as i was 'anchored'
but i think today i have realised that i am a great big stroppy lump of self pitying crud.
i whined this morning.
i whined that i had to get out of bed, i whined that i had to stay at home and study while everyone went to the beach, and then when they all left i cried. im sure to whine when i get any spot of the hot wind on me, and whine when things dont turn out right.

i whine.

'snap out of it' someone should say. but no-one does, they are all much too nice.

yesterday i went to broadmeadows.

it was an interesting, disturbing, hopeless and vast place. i saw a man with a 'TERRORISTS fuck off' t-shirt. a jim beam in his hand, climbing out of his land rover full of wives and kids, with a purple rally car, all beat and torn in tow. i wanted to have a miranda stare, and look at him with searing eyes until he exploded.

i surprised myself.

and then beyond him stretched far and wide the same houses, with same rooves and the same lawns. and i realised i was glad to be out of the place i spent so much time, and living here. despite the fact we live in a bubble.

when i got home i walked in to my room, and there was a bed there. my friends all pitched in and bought me a bed.

it made me so happy that they thought of me, but i was also a little ashamed.
this girl has too much pride... and thats why ive been whining and sleeping on milk crates with bits of wood to fill in the gaps. stupid.

so ill try to leave the whining at that. leave it at the door.


no title needed today...
just an exclamation of pure peace.

i like today, its a little hot though, one my dear friends anna is pining for cooler times so i can wear my 'fur' (i am a fox you see, according to her)

i bought an anchor today, its navy and white, and made of plastic (a brooch).
and i think it worked. i put it on and instantly felt anchored. im in a very happy place.
maybe its the yellow dress too.
ive been a little grumpy and frumpy lately, almost demanding *gasp* demanding cuddles and kisses, but i think they worked too.

last night we cheers'd to the last drops of summer (the little sprinkler spurt that comes from a hole you cant find, and goes in the wrong direction maybe in your eye, and surpises you, in a good way). romy and i had to cancel the first knitting club for sunday, we pre-empted autumn, there is no cool wind yet, just warm pleasentries. i might even get the chance to do a little touslling in the sand on sunday... maybe ill take my anchor.

my nanna always writes at the end of her cards
"may your rainbows never turn blue..." x N
(i have crafty sticker nanna who is going through a very amusing phase of scrapbooking and sticker craft for all occasions)

i always seem to write such silly little detached and incoherant posts.

im going to a little opening tonight in a little subway spot that has little creatures that aren't mascots, and to fold and unfold books that are maps with lots of mis-communicative stories.
its at platform. under flinders st. see you there.


whacking day

its st patricks day today....
and that reminds me (is this sad?) of the simpsons... the 'whacking day' episode with barry white and the speakers, and the clubbing of snakes in the spirit of st partick.

so slippery (the snake downstairs) had better be careful of clubs and whackers out there...

sunny days at home

i thought id show you my house.. i finally got my room looking neat and tidy and am procrastinating from doing work... i should be running around the park with the kids... having sports day...

this is the view from my bedroom window... the magnolia tree will blossom this winter and i'll be so happy when it does...

and here's my room, and my polaroid collection- or part thereof, all from the last year or so..

and this is where i see the joggers all day everyday...

so if you run around princes park... im watching you... you should make sure you have good posture when you run with flailing arms and legs, red faced, pink skinned.. wave...SMILE

thursday should be a good day....

RANT ensues:

so its six o’clock and I’m about to go home from school.
there are pin-boards around me with neglected and abandoned cd’s, posters of the twelve (nine?)
and no windows. none. there are highlight windows to INSIDE spaces, they even have their own little black curtains just in case any light wants to creep through… but nope nothing to look at.
Next to me is someone from downstairs’ sketch (fashion students) I know its wrong but I might just. He.
Yeah why not?


Ah the scanners not working. Its someone’s design for lingerie, ‘panties’ and brassiere, suspenders and garter…
What makes someone talented? This person doesn’t look talented…their sketch is on scrappy loose leaf A4 paper with binder holes down the side and faint blue lines with a red lined margin. In blue biro. Is it wrong to judge someone by the way they do their sketches?


Arggh anyway, I need a studio. I can’t take the clicking and snorting, sniffing and clicking, banging, tutting, sighing, chatter about a pet dog who had a car accident, of strangers. I can’t handle the feel of the boy next to me sighing, his expended air crawling on my cheek, most probably because he ran up the stairs. The lifts have been out of order due to ‘industrial relations disputes’ for two weeks now.


nice morning... a little too nice....

the city is sooo strange at the moment,
and its only going to get weirder...
its so clllleeeeeannnnn.
so pristine, as the autumn leaves fall im sure someone
is running about with a leaf [dust] buster, slurping them up
before they hit the ground.

so now one can tell that the seasons have changed
except the ‘local’ people.

I was walking home from work last night and a leaf was falling towards me,
towards my head, and I flinched.
like an involuntary comment, a thinking out aloud,
a flinch as a leaf fell toward me, thinking it was a projectile.
I know I am a city girl now.

there are tracksuits, of all colours, littered about the clean grey mall,
and people with funny little tags in that in-offensive blue colour.

and very little homeless people, ‘moved on’ I guess. I think they were all lined up
outside the brotherhood in Brunswick st this morning as I rode by on the tram.

strange days, and surely about to get stranger...


so this morning i was on the tram,
with the inspectors (romy and i had decided there is a plague of them at the moment)
and a man came and sat next to me.

he was about fifty, lithe, fit and generally in offensive.
blue oakley wrap around sunglasses- with a strap around the back,
white shirt with a slight embossed stripe
red knotted cuff links, a red tie,
freckles, short (no.1) hair.

someone you would usually think would ride to work every day on a bike...

he was listening to an ipod, a little white nano,
with a lime green jelly cover,
and straight away i noticed the song blaring,
escaping from his hairy ears.


must i be subjected to these characters with bad ipod playlists their wives (is there any other explanation?) have collated to 'spice' up their day?

*goes the applestore and dreams*