This One's for Lisa Torrance
If I had time to blog this week I would have written:
Monday: Our work netball team won their first ever game. It was only later we realized that the other team was two players short. Resolved to work late, but had two glasses of wine sitting in the downstairs office, then pretended to do work but really just checked out airfares on the net. Bought Kway Teow and the Faker and Architecture in Helsinki CDs on the way home.
Tuesday: Went to a meeting at SPACE where they explained that they’re increasing their accessories range so that younger people who are into design but can’t afford the furniture can have a piece of the action too. Afterwards Zo and I browsed around the store. Realised that I wanted to buy everything but could only afford the accessories, and even then really only the (well designed) plastic shoes. Made mental note to try to avoid being a victim of marketing and headed back to office. Decided that Faker are the future of Australian pop.
Received post card from Georga-slash-Wendy from Florence. On the front: an image of MIchaelangelo’s David but only from waist to knee. On the back: “Sweetie! remember this big guy! he wasn’t looking so smug when we saw him hey! i.e. surrounded by frocks!!” (can’t really remember but I think David was being restored when we visited Florence together years ago) “so am here for the w/e – would you believe my friend married into Royalty!” (actually, I would) “she’s now lost her princess title” (?) “but the party @ the palace!!!! was amazing!! love, G x p.s. you know wot they say – small hands = small gloves.”
Wednesday: Completely off kilter. Started the day at the clinic, and almost lost my new scarf – twice. Got pulled over by the police on the way to work and breath tested because I went down a one-way lane the wrong way. As I was turning out of it, they happened to be turning in. I smiled, shrugged and kept on going. They did a u-turn, caught up, flashed their lights, got stern, breath tested me and did a licence check. I tried to concentrate on turning the radio down and seeming normal. After they explained their benevolence in not issuing a fine, I continued on my way but they followed me, so I had to put on my seat belt.
Funny lunch at Dance Caf: Allie said that deaf people clap by waving their hands beside their head Al Jolson (?) style to show that they’re happy. Why can’t they just clap? If they clapped like Jo Dyer, high and expressively, everyone, even other deaf people, would get the message.
When she was growing up Allie’s mum wouldn’t let her eat foods that had more than one lot of packaging, like those excellent large packs of chips with mini packets of all different kinds of chips inside them. Two layers = no go. She wouldn’t let her watch television shows with people dressed up as animals either. Fat Cat, Humphrey = no go. One day Allie’s mum put her outside to paint pictures on paper on an easel. Allie used the paints to cover her whole body black.
Annie has written “Hope Springs Eternal” as the thought for the day on our kitchen blackboard. It’s been there for weeks. I want to write “I don’t fuckin’ think so” Vernon God Little style underneath it. My wet washing has been in the machine exactly a week. It can wait until the weekend now. Perhaps I have too many clothes.
My image of the end of the day is of me walking up Oxford Street, Bondi Junction in a post Country Road Sale change room state of dishevelment trying desperately to find the arm of the raincoat billowing behind me. I’m juggling my bag, RTA umbrella and shopping all the while aiming for grace when a British backpacker walks up from behind me, looks me meaningfully in the eye, says “excuse me, there you go” and hands back the belt of my rain coat. So many ways to be off kilter in one day.
Thursday: it’s been raining and raining. This morning I realized that our bathroom ceiling is leaking. The main part of the leak is quite conveniently over the bidet which we use to hold a pot plant. Planned to send an email to the real estate. Forgot. Tonight it’s worse and bigger. It’s now leaking in two spots, along cracks positioned so that you can imagine them joining up and the whole corner of the ceiling eventually sagging down to release the swimming pool that’s forming up there. And I forgot to email the real estate. I wish I had rubber boots like Noonie. By tomorrow morning I’m going to need them to avoid electrocution when blow drying my hair. The plant's doing well, though.
Called into the theatre on my way home and ran into James Mathieson on the footpath outside. Me (caught off guard): Hello, you’re an Idol person (groan inside my head). Him: Hmmm…and I’m currently idle.
Next week might be better. Hope Springs Eternal. Going to sleep now to will the rain to stop and the ceiling to not cave in.
Monday: Our work netball team won their first ever game. It was only later we realized that the other team was two players short. Resolved to work late, but had two glasses of wine sitting in the downstairs office, then pretended to do work but really just checked out airfares on the net. Bought Kway Teow and the Faker and Architecture in Helsinki CDs on the way home.
Tuesday: Went to a meeting at SPACE where they explained that they’re increasing their accessories range so that younger people who are into design but can’t afford the furniture can have a piece of the action too. Afterwards Zo and I browsed around the store. Realised that I wanted to buy everything but could only afford the accessories, and even then really only the (well designed) plastic shoes. Made mental note to try to avoid being a victim of marketing and headed back to office. Decided that Faker are the future of Australian pop.
Received post card from Georga-slash-Wendy from Florence. On the front: an image of MIchaelangelo’s David but only from waist to knee. On the back: “Sweetie! remember this big guy! he wasn’t looking so smug when we saw him hey! i.e. surrounded by frocks!!” (can’t really remember but I think David was being restored when we visited Florence together years ago) “so am here for the w/e – would you believe my friend married into Royalty!” (actually, I would) “she’s now lost her princess title” (?) “but the party @ the palace!!!! was amazing!! love, G x p.s. you know wot they say – small hands = small gloves.”
Wednesday: Completely off kilter. Started the day at the clinic, and almost lost my new scarf – twice. Got pulled over by the police on the way to work and breath tested because I went down a one-way lane the wrong way. As I was turning out of it, they happened to be turning in. I smiled, shrugged and kept on going. They did a u-turn, caught up, flashed their lights, got stern, breath tested me and did a licence check. I tried to concentrate on turning the radio down and seeming normal. After they explained their benevolence in not issuing a fine, I continued on my way but they followed me, so I had to put on my seat belt.
Funny lunch at Dance Caf: Allie said that deaf people clap by waving their hands beside their head Al Jolson (?) style to show that they’re happy. Why can’t they just clap? If they clapped like Jo Dyer, high and expressively, everyone, even other deaf people, would get the message.
When she was growing up Allie’s mum wouldn’t let her eat foods that had more than one lot of packaging, like those excellent large packs of chips with mini packets of all different kinds of chips inside them. Two layers = no go. She wouldn’t let her watch television shows with people dressed up as animals either. Fat Cat, Humphrey = no go. One day Allie’s mum put her outside to paint pictures on paper on an easel. Allie used the paints to cover her whole body black.
Annie has written “Hope Springs Eternal” as the thought for the day on our kitchen blackboard. It’s been there for weeks. I want to write “I don’t fuckin’ think so” Vernon God Little style underneath it. My wet washing has been in the machine exactly a week. It can wait until the weekend now. Perhaps I have too many clothes.
My image of the end of the day is of me walking up Oxford Street, Bondi Junction in a post Country Road Sale change room state of dishevelment trying desperately to find the arm of the raincoat billowing behind me. I’m juggling my bag, RTA umbrella and shopping all the while aiming for grace when a British backpacker walks up from behind me, looks me meaningfully in the eye, says “excuse me, there you go” and hands back the belt of my rain coat. So many ways to be off kilter in one day.
Thursday: it’s been raining and raining. This morning I realized that our bathroom ceiling is leaking. The main part of the leak is quite conveniently over the bidet which we use to hold a pot plant. Planned to send an email to the real estate. Forgot. Tonight it’s worse and bigger. It’s now leaking in two spots, along cracks positioned so that you can imagine them joining up and the whole corner of the ceiling eventually sagging down to release the swimming pool that’s forming up there. And I forgot to email the real estate. I wish I had rubber boots like Noonie. By tomorrow morning I’m going to need them to avoid electrocution when blow drying my hair. The plant's doing well, though.
Called into the theatre on my way home and ran into James Mathieson on the footpath outside. Me (caught off guard): Hello, you’re an Idol person (groan inside my head). Him: Hmmm…and I’m currently idle.
Next week might be better. Hope Springs Eternal. Going to sleep now to will the rain to stop and the ceiling to not cave in.
posted by noonie at 12:44 AM
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