it's been five days since my last confession. or my first. i am not sure. and who reads this anyway? do i assume i know you and therefore you know me? did you stumble across me in some random search for photos of peaches in her knickers? or for lady adventurers in safari suits, a la 1930's britain? or am i keeping a glorified journal for myself? or others?
whatever the case, it's been five days since my last confession...
on the first day, i skipped yoga class with dad. stayed in with mum and designed gift certificates for the non-profit organisation they run, called wellwishers. they are helping to raise money for hand-dug wells in ethiopia. they are bigger people than me. something to aspire to. a good thing for a parent, methinks. in the afternoon we went swimmming in the neighbours pool. i kept my head above water due to a nasty middle ear infection. we played charades in the pool. it was hysterical. on the way to the airport we stopped at the brunswick heads seafood co-op and ate fresh prawns, john dory & drank pinot grigio next to the fishing boats. then the powers that be got all electrical storm on our asses. we drove to the gold coast in pink light along silver roads, strewn with debris. my flight left 3 hours late. i got home at 2:30am. i slept goooooood.
on the second day, i went to chapel tattoo to talk about art for my new tattoo. my affirmation. six little stars to guide me. it was to be a discussion. it became a reality...and now my right arm looks like this...
... i was so happy that i was singing aloud on the tram. to the new pornographers "blown speakers". "it's impractical....". i love that song. and i fucking love my new stars. that night, i watched the first 4 epidodes of beverly hills 90210. priceless.
on the third day, i get up early and meet a friend at section 8 for coffee. she inspires me. she does good things. i want to do them too. she tells me i can so i walk away feeling rather pleased with myself. i got to work in a mental warehouse, some new retail thing, home to up & coming fashion designers in a space in prahran. it's weird. i amuse myself by trying on inappropriate sundresses and totter around in black shiney high heels. i make my way back to fitzroy (sans heels) and meet chloe & christina at my favourite place, gertrude street enoteca for a lovely glass of verdejo. christina takes off to richmond, chloe & i head down to the union, for a wine less tasty. rene joins us, we eat pizza and make new friends. ludo, the lovely waiter from enoteca, is celebrating the granting of a visa (he is a lovely french boy) with his boyfriend charlie. we all fall in love with each other and have a grand old time, promising more of these to come.
on the fourth day, i incur the wrath and spend the day in bed with a migraine. asher is soooo into it, as she gets cuddles all day long. in the evening, i brave it to michelle's party: christina, be & i dress up as some kind of throw-back from grease, and i hide behind the decks, keeping them dancing all night long, before nearly passing out from post-migraine blues.
the hits:
beat it - michael jackson
bizarre love triangle - new order
common people - pulp
can i get get get - junior senior
crazy in love - beyonce & jay z
all the boys in town - the divinyls
too young - phoenix
nowhere to run - martha & the vandellas
on the fifth day, i wake up blurry still. i head off to smith street for an honest day's work at the lost and found market. i write emails, rearrange lovely retro furniture & vintage clothes, have a visit from friends and try on red high heels. i come home, get locked out of the house, and write this on my front verandah in the afternoon sun...
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