Three strange things that happened to me today;

• I went to my first home open. It’s all becoming very scary and real. Not that I have to worry too much about falling in love with this house – it will definitely be too expensive for me.
• Nearly being run over by a psycho lady who then threatened us with her cork wedge shoe, before her rhino-like daughter stalked us four blocks calling the police on her mobile, claiming we’d “damaged her car” before we finally found a police-person to intervene.
• Having Peking duck for dinner and feeling full after two pancakes. What the?!?!?!

I’ll be glad when halloween is over this year!

I think I fell in love with fonts…

Yummy!

We affectionately call it Vagina Palace….

Best dumpling house in Lt Bourke st.

Chinese visa

Running a week late with applying for my visa to China.

It was all because I couldn’t bear to get my passport photo done.

It was as bad as I’d anticipated…..

At lunch time my work colleague and I were doing some lunchtime online-surfing….

Not very hidden depths…

http://www.theage.com.au/lifestyle/people/peter-andre-splits-from-wife-jordan-20090512-b0u1.html

Sometimes the absence is longer than at other times.

But I always come back in the end, much like a boomerang.

x

I rode to work for the first time this morning. I now have the wettest of wet bottoms.

To alleviate this problem I was standing in the bathroom this morning (my riding was a massive success in terms of finally getting me to work on time and I managed to get to work twenty minutes early – which was handy when dealing with the “wet” issue) and I had my skirt off, drying it under the hand dryer. Suddenly the nasty Iranian cleaner who always yells at you if you leave muddy tracks on the floor, walks in to change the toilet rolls.

Firstly, it’s not my frigging fault it’s wet outside… and it’s not my fault it’s his job to clean muddy footprints. He’s always yelling at our circus kids, and I always yell back at him to leave them alone. He’s like the Soup Nazi, but he’s Footprint Nazi.

Anyway I think he was so shocked to see me with me skirt off, standing in my mis-understander-pants with my stockings lying on the ground and my singlet in the wash basin and me holding my skirt under the dryer, that he did the only thing he knows how to do…. he started yelling at me. A lot. Still not quite sure what I did wrong this time (maybe it was a modesty issue… mind you – he’s the pervert in the girls toilet, I’m allowed to be there) but his voice rose about ten octaves and his accent got really thick and I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about for ages, until finally I literally dropped my skirt onto the ground, ran into the toilet cubicle and started yelling back.

I don’t think the Iranian cleaner likes me very much. I don’t like him either, but he has a moustache that deserves kudos. Think Magnum PI.

So I’ve been sitting with a wet rear-end all day.

I might have to consider investing in “bike clothes”…. Boo! Nobody looks good in lycra. Nobody.

The mo

There’s nothing like walking home at 5pm on a Saturday afternoon, still wearing last nights finery.

Grown up couples pass me whilst carrying their days groceries. As I walk past the Carlton Gardens there are  families going home, having spent an afternoon in the sun playing “happy families”.

I am carrying a clutch. I am wearing an off the shoulder black top. I have my hair pulled back and the remnants of 22 hour old make up on my face… The sunlight don’t make me look so pretty…..

I thought when I turned thirty a magic switch would go off and I would be a grown up.

I’m actually happy to say that there is no switch and I am still the child I have always been. Trashy and tragic at times, but I embrace all that life throws me.

Bring on the trashy and tragic, I say!

Tonight I watched a man bathe himself standing up with a bottle of red wine, whilst listening to the strains of Jeff Buckley, with a semi smile of combined contentment and pain on his face. It was the culmination of an hour intense journey as one man filled a stage with the whispers of relationships and lives gone by.

Yes, I know this all sounds whimsical and full of rhapsody. But the piece I saw tonight has filled my head with meandering thoughts and I’m sitting here thinking about lovers of past, the soundtrack of my life and being emotionally and physically naked to the world.

But back to the naked red wine man. My first and most intense thought was how much I’d love to try that one day – it looked beautiful and amazing, slowly pouring the wine through his hair and running all the way down his skin. He looked like a Jackson Pollack afterwards. My second thought was that I would never do it because I’m more likely to want to drink the wine rather than waste it…….

It seems so strange not to blog at the moment. I think about it all the time, but I don’t feel like blogging about the big white elephant in the room and so it seems silly to even try. But life is a funny thing and even when the emotion is too much to bear, there are still amusing things that happen in day to day life, anecdotes to tell and silly laughing moments to share.

I’m terribly hung over right now, so I’m not going to take this post any further. But I thought I’d have a little try and see how it feels to step back in to Farfaraway world. I’d like to think I’ll be back again soon.