Ivy and the ST Balcony

Ivy is a place, not a person, not a plant. Ivy is a construction zone. It's an outdoor place, so you can smoke. Because it's an outdoor place, it's quite cold.

We'd started with a bottle of cheap pinot on the balcony. We'd started wondering how the hell we're going to get to New York. For those of us who aren't married it's somewhat less complicated.

Zoe talks about having her mum back, of a pacemaker buried in her upper chest creating a bulge near her shoulder. It's a pacemaker for her brain. She describes the wires which are underneath her skin but able to be seen in outline stretching from the pacemaker up the back of her neck. They have a remote control to adjust the pacemaker but they're too scared to touch it. They don't care. Her mum is back.

We end comparing the lining of our jackets with those of the boys drinking something and coke and smoking furiously. It's because of them that we're cold. We've eaten betel leaves and then been removed from our table. Molly Meldrum's white sweater matches his hat. I'm sure he feels at home in the decor.

Today I learned (learnt? - someone help me here) that macchiato is the easiest coffee to carry.