paint swatches: the first thing I see when I wake up in the morning (besides cat face)
Boa is the winner for the living room, and grey flannel is the front runner for the bedroom.

 
Dear Melbourne,

March has been f***ing awesome. AWESOME. Thank you for all of your excellent, excellent work this month, and no hard feelings about November, OK?

You have more than made up for it with your consistently fabulous weather (28 degrees Celsius today; 30 degrees tomorrow and Saturday!!!) and plethora of good-looking, intelligent, sensitive men who all want my phone number. You rock.

Love your #1 fan,
Honey xoxo

P.S. I think I will stay here after all.

Fad Bar, Melbourne CBD

 
What an amazing week. And nearly all of it has been good.

Kristy’s birthday was awesome. We spent the afternoon shopping on Smith Street, and I found clothes that are stylish and work-appropriate. We had a great dinner at Shakahari, which is a very classy vegetarian restaurant in Carlton. It’s not that expensive, but it’s the kind of place you’d take someone you want to impress.

I ordered the “tofu sensibility” as my entree because I thought the name was so hilarious, but it was not very delicious. Kristy made me take the picture below because the pieces of tofu were wearing hats, although there were six pieces of tofu and only three hats. Perhaps there was a shortage?

tofu sensibility

 
After Shakahari, we headed to Fad Bar in Chinatown for a combined birthday party for three people. I spent a decent amount of time chatting with a cute gentleman (younger gentleman, ahem), who later asked me for my phone number. !!!! How exciting, and something that hasn’t happened to me for seven or eight years now.

——

Spent all day yesterday unearthing and piling up the remains of Mr Honey’s stuff. I found some surprises (not good ones) that made me cry and gave me a whole new perspective on things. I’m thinking now of the line from Jeff Buckley’s Last Goodbye where he sings, “You didn’t know him at all…”

Then I bribed Kylie and Kristy with Indian takeaway/take-out; we rearranged the furniture in my apartment and smashed a few pieces, too (on purpose). Oh the catharsis.

When I woke up this morning, I felt grrrrrrrrreat, and the apartment feels so different.

——

I drove Bernard to South Melbourne this morning to get a new petrol cable thingy and a heart transplant. Aside from liking my mechanics, they’re located conveniently near a beach, so I was able to work on Kristy’s scarf at the beach while waiting.

Monte’s old horn, aka Bernard’s heart
(as received in care package from Mommy)

 

unwrapped and surrounded by the latest acquisitions for my quilt

 
When I got home, I called Kristy and my mom to let them hear the outcome. They both — independently of one another — came up with the same response: it sounds like a human saying “beep beep”. I think it sounds like heaven.

I honked and honked, up and down the streets, and couldn’t stop myself. I am going to have to drive to deserted parking lots just so I can get it out of my system, I think.

After I called them, the agency called with an actual job (not a casting) for Friday. I think it will be my last one forever.

Then a courier came to pick up all of Mr Honey’s stuff (and boy was there a lot of it). I felt a bit overwhelmed for all of, oh, five seconds, and then I did the first thing that came to mind: I started dancing. I cranked up the Saints’ (I’m) Stranded and danced like I haven’t danced in years, all over the apartment. I really didn’t expect to be so elated, or that I wouldn’t be able to stop dancing. Go figure. (Barb, you were totally there, shaking your booty in spirit.)

new hoodie and felt flower

 
I got a package today from Camilla, which added to the excitement. One of the items I ordered was a felt flower, but I asked for the colours and style to be a surprise. How funny that it matched today’s outfit (included my new-and-already-beloved striped Bonds hoodie).

update: For the record, ahem, the above ring is on my right ring finger — the image is reversed because I’m looking through the mirror. The left ring finger is currently nekkid and will remain so.

one lonely little toothbrush, with an HP Sauce bottle converted into a vase
(flowers from the 24-hour drive-thru florist on Lygon Street)

 
Happy birthday, Kristy-lee!

I ate Vegemite toast this week. Willingly. It took four years of living here before I could even stand the smell of Vegemite, and I have no idea why now, or why I want to eat it. I mean, yes, I’ve been trying new things and all, but my taste buds, too? I’ve also grown fond of ginger beer, which is more gingery than my usual taste. I don’t ask questions anymore — I just roll with it.

——

Bernard died in the middle of St Georges Road on Thursday, and I had to call RACV to come rescue me. I was very sad about the prospect of something being seriously wrong with him, which would mean I might have to pay a fortune to fix him or possibly get rid of him. I’ve grown quite attached.

Turns out someone cut the cable that secures the little door covering the petrol/gas cap, and they sucked out all my petrol. You could even tell where the cable had been cut. Sheesh. How desperate would you have to be to steal half a tank from a VW beetle?

I told Mr RACV that I’d had my licence plates stolen, but I never imagined someone stealing petrol. “Sometimes shit happens, you know?” he said.

Yes, actually, I do know.

 
So Bernard is getting a new cable put in on Tuesday, along with a !heart transplant! Oh happy joy.

——

Work is throwing a goodbye party for me on Wednesday. I’ll be picking up two luscious, wheat-free desserts from Silly Yaks in Northcote on the way (it was either that or watch them stuff themselves with cake while I smile politely).

They took me aside last week and said they’d like to get me a gift, worth at least $150, and I couldn’t stop them but I could suggest what I would actually like. I thought about it quite a bit and decided on a TV, since I’m currently without (if you don’t know why, don’t ask). It will be nice to watch DVDs again, and Monday nights are amazing on the ABC: Andrew Denton (absolutely brilliant), Media Watch and Australian Story. While Andrew Denton is on, Queer Eye is on another network! It’s like Christmas.

Melbourne CBD, today
 

same thing, close up

 
I had this itch to update here, and now I am so tired from a little tantrum that Photoshop just threw that I can’t remember what I had to say.

Thanks to Rachel’s suggestion, and this interesting treatise on blog writing (via Jen), I will make an effort to review things more often.

Went to see Million Dollar Baby for $5 last night with Kristy. Kristy was disappointed in me because I only mustered half a tear, but I think that was in part because I pretty much knew how it was going to end. I had heard about the basic end theme, and it was pretty clear which character it was going to involve. Sometimes I really hate spoilers. Anyway, overall I though it was very good, and I think Ms Swank deserved the Oscar. It was a bit Hollywoodesque, and there were one or two spots that annoyed me, but deserving of most of the hype, I thought.

Before the movie, we ate at Spudatoes on High Street, Northcote. Lots of vegetarian and vegan options (and fat-free options for those who avoid sour cream, cheese and butter), and the “small” is way too much food. Bonus points for stocking a good brand of ginger beer (Americans: think ginger ale with more actual ginger taste) and Apple Isle sparkling apple juice.

Also finished reading Man Bites Dog by Adam Ford. Whenever I read Douglas Coupland novels, I get a sense of joy for recognising his many pop culture references (Girlfriend in a Coma was littered with unacknowledged Smiths lyrics, for example, which felt a bit like finding Easter eggs). I enjoyed Man Bites Dog in the same way, only the references were places I’ve lived or frequent regularly, and bands I like or blogs I’ve read (yes, he even name-checks blogs). Aside from the referential fun, I thought the book was a bit lacking somehow, and the ending was a bit unfulfilling for a so-called detective story. A good, fun read, but not a re-read.

St Kilda beach yesterday (spot the dead jellyfish in the foreground)

 
I went on a date yesterday — my first in six years, if I am remembering correctly. It was very weird. The good news is that we both thought it was weird and said so in an honest, thoughtful conversation today. I am seriously loving this year already in terms of the mature, honest conversations I’ve been able to put into practice. It’s helped me out in so many ways, my new job being just one of them.

We have decided that we both acted unlike our usual selves and are going to try things out very s-l-o-w-l-y, as friends first. This is a good thing.

Speaking of good things, I just got some great news. But first the bad, to put it into perspective: I learned that every photo taken with my digital camera from the time I received it in May last year through December had been deleted off the computer and not backed up (I won’t even go into detail). I was so upset that I almost cried and have been thinking about it all week. The good news is that I contacted diaryland (my former blog home) and asked if — miracle of all miracles — they were too lazy to delete my pics off their hard drive. It turns out they were, and 12 bucks later, I’ve got all of my old photos back - the ones that went on the Web anyway, which are the ones I care about most. So I’ll be updating the archives of this site very soon.