see you there...

I love autumn.

How goddam good is the weather?
How good is it?!

Foggy mornings, misty sunsets, not too windy, and the sun! Perfect weather…
For a while there it was cold and our heater is a bit broken (the heater is getting fixed though… today in fact. By a ‘heater man’ well didn’t we quip last night about that! 8am “why hello mr. Heater man” Bed hair, gasping voice you know the one)

And our showers were cold too. This is because the water heater has been gushing all our hot water into the ground… for about 10 YEARS! But no more! It too is fixed.

It’s been a whole week and I’m sorry. I feel like a giant blob of glue that is getting all plastic and is about to become useless and unstick… debts to my ear holes, work to my eyeballs and general uncertainty hangs above my little (medium sized actually) head about all those important things. At the same time I have this buzz in my tummy and a happiness, like a two year old who has just eaten some clag... its a sort of like for someone that I like quite a bit...

And how can you be sad with this weather? Though I wish the BOM would stop changing their minds about the weather. Tomorrow sunny or not? I need to plan my tea in the morning: back steps? Or kitchen table? Which is it going to be!

I can tell you today that the sun is shining because it’s George’s birthday. George is a very tall boy, with long lashes, and flushed cheeks. He is good at guitar and music things, plays frisbee quite well, likes to surf, made a mean curry last night, can speak Japanese, and he says sorry quite a bit.

George is one of the most spectacular individuals on this big brown land (quite liked saying ‘big brown land’) He has a combi named polly and a very beautiful girlfriend, and they travelled around Australia and they have had quite a number of adventures that make magnificent stories.

And I am very, very, glad to have met him, and very glad he was born 28 years ago.

Happy Birthday Mr George

Last night I found a beautiful fig tree, still full with figs, and hanging over a lane fence in glorious abundance. I shall share with you where it is… on mac pherson st, north carlton, between lygon and drummond… at the end of a lane on the north side…last night I made the most delicious toffee figs with sour cream and chocolate.

They are green and are the most plump and jewel filled figs I have ever seen.

See you at the fig tree.

X me


My desk looks straight into Quest on Bourke. A hotel above Bourke St.

There usually isn’t much action, and I know people can’t see me,
but I can see them. Usually there are cleaners making beds, couples standing on their balconies looking at the view...

A few moments ago there was a lady standing at the window, with her grey tracksuit and hand on hips, with glowing pink skin. She picked her nose, and glared at the street below.

It’s a strange feeling watching someone, knowing they can’t see you. It happens to each and every one of us at some point. Being watched and not knowing.

The night before last I was getting changed and realised mid top off that there a man walking his dog and staring at me from across the park. I have blinds; sometimes I don’t close them sometimes I do. This is most likely sheer Karma for all the times I’ve spotted people getting their gear off in various locations and not looked away.


p.s. i got a tram fine (another one) last night... cunts

in the jungle

So my presentation went well, despite technical difficulties.
This made me happy.
And then I was supposed to have a presentation tomorrow and there was some sort of divine intervention and its been put back to next week. HOORAY!

Guess what?
I got a studio (little dance...) on Queensbury and Elizabeth in the city.
Right near the market (potential fresh fruit vs. jam doughnut rivalry there)
so I will have a space to while away the hours with people I love.

I get to have a real weekend, with cups of tea and baths
(I do bathe, but baths are more fun when they are long and candlelit), snuggling, and doing mountains of washing.

I’ve also succumbed to the 'myspace' revolution (heaven forbid another thing to update and up keep). Internet procrastination, though, is my favourite thing to do whilst chained to a computer (in case you hadn’t noticed- and no this is not some strange fetish).

And then there is another holiday! ANZAC day. Memories of shaking little old man hands and trying to be chipper at 4am so my dad could remember his dad fill my mind. I only wish that there would be more 'learning' from what has happened than just 'remembering'.

My friend Dane hopped in his car today and is driving all the way to Cairns. Stopping in Canberra, Sydney, Brisbane, Noosa, Townsville and on to cairns. Big drive Mr Dane.
but... this means we dream of a group holiday to cairns very very soon!
hopefully in July.

I can’t wait to roam the forest

x me

having said that

i just re-discovered the arnotts teddy bear biscuit...
i used to go to mac donalds, yes i know i would't go near the place now
even if i saw jarvis there
(actually bugger off i wouldnt... i would go and kneel at his lengthy limbs... but you get my point)
but anyway i used to go...
and get the cookies.

and i loved them.

and now i have found them...

'teddy bears'
best in your mouth.

x me

what do you get?

When you eat big bad meals for five days straight? Wed, Thurs, Fri, Sat, Sun.
A roly poly sore tired belly of great disgust...that’s what.

How are you?
Sometimes I like to think about how you are too. I’m shy around nice people who are beautiful, and most times when I see you I can’t say hello. My brain is too busy soaking you up to use its cognitive features to think of something poignantly silly to say.

It churns and churns and churns.

But nothing comes out.

And it’s because you are so pretty that my pupils enlarge, and my lips sting.

It’s only 'the family' that I can talk to these days. Otherwise I get lost in the sea of know-who-did-what-and-sings-this-and-paints-that. We are all so clever.

I have to get clever today as I have stand up tomorrow and talk to a panel of six architects and tell them what I think of the suburbs, and trains and their stations, and large fences, and grassy hills. Tough stuff...

Yesterday I made (what we calculated to be) 75 pancakes. There were lots. And there was lulling, lemon curd, maple syrup and many a condiment. Campari and orange. Ooo and brilliant people, shiny as a freshly cut gem, and the sun came. What an Easter Sunday!

I hope you had a nice day too.

x me

now that im older

so now that im almost 24 and a half.
i have begun to understand the impact that catholic education brings.
especially at easter.

christmas, how nice, babies, big stars, donkeys, pretty mary, and a few men with nice beards. not too much different from a saturday night out really.

easter. i was writing an email to propose a dinner to some friends and got a little carried away;

It is the festival of chocolate consumption (aka easter):

eggs, gruesome whippings*, rejoice, thorns in your head*, chocolate, public humiliation*, hot cross buns, carrying heavy hunks of wood that you will be tied and nailed to later*, springtime (in the northern hemisphere?), painting of lambs blood above your door to escape the angel of death* and rabbits and shit.

*if you find me hiding in my Bermuda triangle cupboard and weeping it’s a flashback to year two at ‘star of the sea’ primary school;

where the paedophilic priest (who 10 years later was imprisoned for touching little boys [luckily not girls] ) stood over us filling us with ‘the fear’ of ‘our saviour’ who
spittles would fly from his mouth at 30 under ten-year-old children, quivering with fear while he described the 12 stations of the cross from the ‘last supper’ to the ‘resurrection’ in gruesome detail and insists we imagine, and be very sorry for all our sins…
just kiss me and give me more chocolate…

scarred? me?

all in all i dont think i turned out too bad, that love one another stuff was alright...
cheers to the festival of chocolate...

ill whispher comforting things in your ear

I’m a little bit sleepy. It’s Saturday night and Im all alone in the world of lines, lines, lines!
Thank god for mixed tapes.

I know I said I was going to go and support the creative genius’ that produce such beautiful publications as VOICEWORKS and IsNot magazines, but its too late, well maybe its not, but I can’t sacrifice my sanity for a little jiggle tonight.

Thank god for mixed tapes. i have three here that my lovers, friends, and lovely friends have given me.
Right now Elliot Smith rings loudly... "needle in the ha-ay", its ok it picks up a little later on, with some Scout Niblett, The Microphones and then a little Nancy Sinatra, unlikely mix? I think so, but that’s where these things end up. My ears are actually starting to hurt a little from the headphones I have at the moment. I think ill have to catch the last tram home tonight.

“shu shu shuu

shu shu shuuu

shu sha shu shoo

sugar town

yesterday it rained in tenesee

and it also rained in telahasee

but not a drop fell on little ol


cause I was in

sho shu shu


Nancy. Trams. Lines. SATURDAY NIGHT? Sugar town.


*disclaimer* small print


That maybe my spelling was a little out? That my grammar was a little wrong? I have some writer friends, and I think maybe Im not so good at it. I don’t know if it matters or not.

I tried to explain something to someone yesterday (someone we like to think as a ‘lay’ person) and couldn’t. My tongue couldn’t pull it together to say what the picture in my head was on about.


I think (I know) that the powers that be at Architecture school seep every single descriptive word from out of your head and make you draw things instead. We are trained to observe, and communicate through drawing.

So I think I am either frustrating the hell out of you all with this ramble. Or I am practising that art where you write down the things that you see.

So I will persist.

For now…

lace from a sunnier day

i had a big night on friday,
one of my biggest ever.
what started as a posh dinner in our best dresses,
(we went to panama, on smith st, the food is brilliantly brilliant!)
became a debauched dancing bonanza culminating in a 7am
falling asleep on someone else's bed with five other friends
and getting dragged home kind of night...
and i was sick yesterday, so sick that i could go out to the various parties that were on.
one of them being my best friends party...

what a horrible friend!
i hate party guilt...
hate it.

this is how the cake turned out... hee he

*the wind whistles through the (coconut) grass and gunshots rival whistling arrows
as the cowboys try to escape their hopeless pursuit, being lassoed to the cactus and all...*

we went to a new shop on friday, its on smith st and it is immaculate 'janes addiction'. beautiful objects, i got a viewmaster, and we bought anna k FORT APACHE, a cowboys and indians set... the cowboys even have einsie weensie plastic scarves...
its beautiful.

happy day of the EXTRA hour...