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J O U R N A L
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Friday, February 28
[$]posted by peter at 09:23 .......A $1,200 increase on my credit card limit? Yes please!
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[Turn off the television]posted by peter at 21:43 .......Adelaide is hardly Neo-Tokyo, but the city is still interesting at night. This evening's dinner was a tasty affair, despite the fact that I was initially given the wrong dish (it contained meat and I may have ingested some before violently realising). The apologetic waitress replaced it with a tasty vegetarian pasta that was literally bursting with garden vegetables. During the meal, Trish enthralled me with intricately detailed accounts of various exploits from the last couple of days – a terrific accompaniment to any meal. After paying the bill, we decided to overcome our 'fullness' by strolling down to Rundle St via some back alleys.
Walking down a well-lit corridor which runs between the town hall and an old church provided a new perspective on a city I thought I knew all too well, which was refreshing. We wound through arcades, courtyards and underpasses, each of which held varying degrees of familiarity in the nightscape. Notes from a single saxophone drifted down the empty mall, skanky girls clustered on public benches, lame boys roared their car engines and an over-aged crowd cloaked the sidewalk cafes.
Interesting, but quiet. Strange for a Thursday night. I suppose everyone was at home watching television; after all, we are the city of media surveys and demographic information.
[Alien]posted by peter at 21:31 .......Alright: manifestations of alienating behaviour. Ways to distance both yourself and others.
1) Hiding shyness in group situations with boisterous accounts of experiences and events that only involved a select few people. Usually told in a non-inclusive fashion. Result: alienation.
2) Overuse of innuendo, double entendre, sly/provocative references designed to be mysterious/esoteric – perhaps only one other person in the group will get what you're on about, but they probably won't. Result: alienation.
3) Obsessive talk of obscure or difficult-to-find music, films, books or fashion labels. Think A Bathing Ape or Boards of Canada. Result: alienation.
4) Phoning another person in the middle of a social gathering, just for a chat. "Oh, this party's so great, I might just call Deb." Result: alienation.
5) General ambiguity or contravention of social norms. Result: alienation.
6) Self-indulgent, narcissistic, self-congratulatory analysis of one's own persona. Result: alienation.
7) Use of statements that definitely won't mean anything to anyone else. Result: alienation.
[Letterbox, letterbox]posted by peter at 17:06 .......And thus began the inevitable storm of job rejection letters... a rising tide of crisply folded office paper and white stamped addressed envelopes.
That aside, in light of recent allegations of cruelty to animals (a concept which I abhor), I'd just like to point out that I was not the one who told a World Wildlife Fund collector that I could not possibly care less about animal welfare. Let's just rip down another bamboo stand in central China why don't we? I mean, who could care less about endangered Panda bears, for example? :)
It's an odd time of life for me right now; I think there has been another existential shift. I'm not sure what triggered this one. Dinner with Trish at La Trattoria in half an hour might provide some answers.
SEE?? HERE I AM ALIENATING MYSELF ALL OVER AGAIN. I'm going to write at length about this soon. Forgive me, I must go and collect my thoughts.
[Bin]posted by peter at 10:40 .......It's been brought to my attention that my exceedingly erratic and unreliable commenting system has been randomly discarding comments with gleeful abandon.
So if you're one of those who participates in comment culture and find to your dismay that you are being censored, then rest assured that it is not of my doing. The only suggestion I can make is to keep trying.
Perhaps I'll investigate alternatives to the current system.
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[Tiny creature]posted by peter at 18:47 .......The last thing I expected to encounter while returning from my semi-regular evening skate was a black rabbit. But there it sat, nestling into the flax and other odd median strip plant choices. It was a large bunny, flecked with white on the underside. Thankfully it was sitting in a part of the carpark that receives almost no traffic, being right on the edge of my block in residential land.
How does one react to this? What meaning can be interpreted from this sign?
Perhaps more pressingly, how does one find out where the poor little thing belongs?
How much good would door knocking do?
These are the moral dilemmas of our times.
[Gawk]posted by peter at 14:12 .......People seemed to be smirking as they passed me in the city today. It left me feeling very insecure, reawakening adolescent neuroses. I realise I have a new haircut, it's very short, but these people don't know me and they have no basis for comparison. Was my fly undone? Did I have food remnants smeared all over my face? A strand of mucous dangling from a nostril?
I don't think so.
Hopefully I just imagined it all, entertaining an ego which insists that other people must be aware of or interested in my presence. Oh, to be informed and mobilised by such arrogance! Or to be in the grip of such insecurity.
It really was uncomfortable though.
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[A country kitchen]posted by peter at 12:03 .......What a difference two inches of rain makes in the desert. I'm back on the farm and where last week all was dry, the nearby hills now proudly display a tinge of green, as countless tiny grasses rise up into the light. It's surprisingly humid, given the inland location (Spencer Gulf, 60km to the West, doesn't really count), and my hair is responding in its usual wooly manner. I'll be cutting it off methinks.
The rain does not just bring forth new plant life; no, it encourages the emergence of all manner of other living things. There is no better place than here to encounter gargantuan spiders, which like to lurk just beyond the fringes of the light, their nebulous bodies surrounded by splays of spindly legs. The mother of all was in the porch last night, and I felt as if Shelob – nay Ungoliant – herself had descended from a Tolkien age in search of my bodily juices.
Turning to more pleasant thoughts:
Red lentil soup. Simply fry up some onion and garlic and then cook with vegetable stock, 1 cup whole red lentils, cumin, salt, pepper and 2 finely chopped red capsicums. It need not cook for long, just until everything is soft – it's a nice thick soup and contains an almost obscene amount of iron. Bring on the oxygen, that's what I always say.
Red capsicum soup. Dice 4 red capsicums and cook with onion and garlic, add vegetable stock, 2 chopped tomatoes and a teaspoon of ground coriander seeds. Simmer for 30mins and then blitz everything in a (yet to be purchased) food processor, reheat if necessary and season with salt and pepper. Yum... yum.
In other good news, (1) I've been tinkering on the piano and learned to play Colors and the kids (by Cat Power), and (2) I've added a tribute to filthy Ange in my design section. It was to become her website, but circumstances got in the way.
Anyway, I have to go because Nigella's on in a few hours and I'm not interested in missing a single second.
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[Animal rights]posted by peter at 11:10 .......Here's a Flash animation I produced a couple of years ago during a competition. It's very silly, but still makes me smile. Turn up your speakers for the lovely Nina Simone soundtrack!
(And do it before they delete my account on the server... I don't know how much longer this link will work!)
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[Stored energy]posted by peter at 12:25 .......It's a bit premature, but I'm already planning my contributions to the garden in South Yarra. My additions will chiefly involve Spring bulbs, mostly potted to allow for easy repositioning or removal.
Last week at work I leafed through an old copy of Better Homes and Gardens that belonged to my boss Chris, and I came across an enormous amount of information about the said plant types. It was all very inspiring, hence the pre-planning that has been occurring.
I envisage having a large section of mixed reds and oranges, with such blooms as sparaxis, tulips, freesias, daffodils (hopefully the strange hybrid ones I have will flower this year) and ranunculi. The difficult thing is that I'm also obsessed with white, and I'm not quite sure how to incorporate that. In any case, white ranunculi, chincherinchees, snowflakes, freesias, zephyranthes (white storm lillies) and daffodils. Definitely no paperwhite jonquils because they reek of death and excrement. I might offset the white with some bi-colour anemones (I love these) and tritella, whose pale blue tones should look glorious.
While we're on the subject of gardening, I can't remember how to differentiate between bonafide and faux jasmine. Pippa did tell me, but I promply forgot. Help, anyone? I believe that the rampant plant currently taking over my yard is real jasmine, but I'd love to confirm my suspicions.
I'll end this post with a recipe, of sorts. Thinly slice a large eggplant, salt both sides of the slices, lie them flat on a plate, sprinkle with herbs de provence or any other French combination, drizzle with balsamic vinegar, and then microwave – yes, microwave – for a couple of minutes. Place the eggplant between slices of toasted bread, perhaps with some fresh tomato, and consume. Much quicker than roasting, and with similar results.
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[Wave/particle duality]posted by peter at 11:35 .......It's raining and the whole city seems to be breathing again. Harsh concrete surfaces have become cool and reflective, tired plants have raised their wilted leaves and colours have intensified beneath the grey sky. Orbs hover around neon signs in the evening mist, and even the smaller buildings seem connected to the sky, supporting the heavens.
I watched two patches of oil on the road. They floated like ghosts in a black aether, animated by the passing cars. Ill-defined and drifting; I can relate to that.
Apparently oil appears multicoloured because it forms a layer that is about half as thin as the wavelength of certain colours in the visible light spectrum. Light reflects off the top and bottom of the layer, and in doing so certain colours essentially 'cancel out', depending on the viewing aspect. The remaining colours are what produce the rainbow effect.
But this is a vague explanation. I once could have told you more, but my retention of university-level physics leaves a lot to be desired. I suppose that the oil I watched will eventually wash down the drain with the rest of my scientific knowledge.
[Celluloid]posted by peter at 08:53 .......It's a week of movies. Last night I saw The Hours, which left me with the same impression I've experienced after reading a Virginia Woolf novel. Following that I watched Punch Drunk Love, which was by the director of Magnolia and was truly odd. Both films come highly recommended from me!
Tonight I'll probably see Far from Heaven, and then I think I'll break my cinema attendance record. Five in one week... quite insane.
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[Zip]posted by peter at 23:17 .......The scent of a pile of newspapers caused me to dry retch earlier this evening. Desperately drawing on mental energies to prevent a convulsive expulsion of previously eaten foodstuffs, I rushed to the kitchen and hastily brewed a pot of green tea. My nausea was quickly controlled.
Apparently ginger is especially good for preventing nausea... I didn't think of this earlier.
Well, I introduced Pippa to 'the filthies' tonight. We sat on Rundle St like a bunch of pretentious freaks and consumed various beverages. I enjoy introducing other friends to Ange and Trish; it's always a bit of an ordeal but most people come through it with a smile on their face. After all, the filthies are delightful.
They call me 'Zip'. I'm not even sure if they remember my first name. They might now, but at first they didn't. Hence the nickname, which still persists. After this name was bestowed, Trish invented some story about a particular member of mine getting caught in a zip, which apparently justified everything. All this stemmed from Ange's initial mistake: "what's his name? 'Zip', or something?"
So, yeah, I respond to 'Zip'.
[?]posted by peter at 08:12 .......What were the skies like when you were young?
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[Somewhere in middle America]posted by peter at 21:22 .......I know I advocate a lot of films, but About Schmidt was really, really good!
Gossy and Lisa will vouch for that too, I'm sure.
[Farm]posted by peter at 12:19 .......I've been at home.
'Twas a whirlwind visit, up there Sunday night and back this morning, and was my first in some months. In many ways it felt like no time had passed – it's amazing how effortlessly I can slip back into routines developed a decade ago but virtually unused for the last 5 years.
My visit was blessed with wonderfully cool weather. Overcast skies lessened the impact of drought-afflicted fields. Howling winds beat against the isolated house, evoking literary images of desolation – I half expected the ghost of Cathy to come knocking on my window in the night. I walked in the dry garden and saw green remnants hopelessly clinging to expiring life, but softening it all was the distant view of the forest which blankets the hills on the other side of the valley.
Without those fair trees it really would be a trying place.
But as I've said elsewhere, it's nice in Winter, and the weather nearly approximated those conditions. It's increasingly difficult to believe that I ever lived there, but a quick search through my old possessions brings back a flood of memories.
I helped mum and dad set up their 'new' computer, which in reality is a Mac from 1996. How surreal, but it's definitely a good thing. I'd be a Mac person if there was more 'freeware', if you get my drift. My parents are 100% computer illiterate (indeed, this is the first computer to ever reside in their house), so I think they've got a good machine to start out on.
['Health' food]posted by peter at 12:04 .......Carrot cake is so wonderful: it requires no effort or care and yet rewards time after time. It's a two step recipe for success.
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[Yummo]posted by peter at 15:24 .......A food-bearing wicker basket is always a sign of a good picnic, and last night the said basket was visible from quite some distance away. You see, the perennially glorious Pippa had prepared a magnificent feast that was literally brimming with Lebanese influence. Toss into the mix a few young and interesting people, some of whom I'd not met before, bring a flask of chilled mint tea (also Pippa's idea), find a terrific East Parkland location on a stunning evening and all the elements are there for pleasant times.
Oh yeah, and Leigh Stardust (aka Aliese) makes a mean banana cake.
After that, Jacqui, Angie and I saw the film Adaptation which, however enjoyable, was faintly dissatisfying.
Today's peace rally in the city was very well attended despite the threat of rain, and it was encouraging to be part of a diverse yet like-minded throng and wend around the CBD streets for an hour or so. Unfortunately I became a bit hypoglycaemic (note: vast exaggeration) which rendered my mood mildly unfavourable. As those who were with me will testify, coffee rapidly fixed this problem. Unfortunately the humidity couldn't be so easily rectified.
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[Lovely for ladies]posted by peter at 23:14 .......I'm all for technological advancement, but I wish they'd spend less on defence and assign a bigger budget to developing a system that warns anybody of the approach of male American tourists in denim hotpants and singlet tops, with video cameras dangling from their necks.
An advanced warning system would enable me to avoid the horrid encounters.
Well I finally got Sonia a birthday present tonight, admittedly over a month late. She's the lucky recipient of an attractive Lou Lou perfume gift basket. Hilariously, when I asked the David Jones assistant where I could find the Lou Lou, she thought I meant the toilets, and told me the men's was on the first floor or in the basement level. When I informed her that actually it was for my sister, she said that the ladies' was in the same place. It was then that I twigged, and I pointed out that it was a perfume, not a rest room, that I required. We both laughed, and given that English was clearly not her first language I don't blame her for the misunderstanding. She then directed me to an efficient French lady with a glorious accent who promptly accepted my credit card.
Earlier this evening when I was lounging around in my courtyard in the beautiful night air, I glanced behind me and was greeted by a most eerie sight. The moon shone through thin wisps of cloud, flanked by the silhouettes of two conifer trees. But what startled me the most was the tendrils of jasmine that reached out above the line of my fence, seemingly grasping and clutching at invisible entities. They really looked evil, all splayed out like that. Clearly I need to get out the secateurs and do some pruning.
Finally, I discovered a very indulgent treat tonight, but it does involve chocolate, so those of you who take offence to such ingredients STOP HERE!
But imagine what you're missing out on!
All you have to do is purchase a packet of Haigh's scorched almonds (which might be difficult unless you live in either Adelaide or Melbourne; the factory where they make the chocolate – from the raw beans, I might add – is near my house), and then make yourself a delicious hot cocoa. Use two heaped teaspoons of Droste cocoa (it needs to be strong and bitter), and a similar quantity of large sugar crystals, for a slight caramel taste. Add hot water and soy/milk in desired proportions.
Now, the trick is to casually drop the scorched almonds into the drink, stir for a bit so some chocolate dissolves, then eat the almost-bare almond. Continue to do this for the remainder of the pack. The drink gets more and more delicious as the quantity of scorched almonds decreases.
I'm serious, try it!
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[Live music]posted by peter at 23:08 .......My gosh, Beth Orton was amazing!
[Flying blind]posted by peter at 23:00 .......The moth in Trish's car was black, with white specks on the wings. Possibly some red too, but I couldn't tell in the faint artificial light.
I was initially startled by the creature sitting there at the base of the glass on the passenger side. She began to flutter, her wings beating and whirring, projecting her on an erratic path.
But I'm not afraid of moths. I think they're cute, and perhaps even benevolent. So I ushered her gently out the door, releasing her into the night. The city streets would provide a thousand tiny moons around which she could orbit.
It was later that I realised that she had, in fact, not left the vehicle. She hovered quietly against the rear window, a silent passenger to listen to the conversation from the front seats. I suppose she'll live out her days there, happily accepting Trish's hospitality and friendship.
[Employ]posted by peter at 10:57 .......Something which has occurred to me is that when I move to Melbourne I'm going to need a job.
So if you know of anyone who needs a web designer/programmer, application developer (PHP, ASP, whatever), database freak or just general programmer, please let me know! :)
Actually, anything computer related would be fine, I think my computer science degree carries a bit more weight than my arts degree. I've been scouring The Age and various job websites but there's not much around at the moment, particularly for graduate entry. If only I were one of the idle rich! Then I wouldn't have to worry about stuff like this. :)
[?]posted by peter at 08:01 .......If it can happen in a Banana Yoshimoto novel, why can't it happen to me?
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[Time, travel]posted by peter at 09:12 .......A year ago today I was in Hong Kong, a depressing thought given my current lack of travel plans.
About 15 hours ago I was drinking tea with Josh and Pippa, two very chilled out friends who I'm going to miss once I move to Melbourne. We talked about travel plans. And my current lack of them.
[Eastern mythology]posted by peter at 09:12 .......Did anyone notice a glow in the East late last night? It rose above the hills, swelling and subsiding, and occasionally busting out in a huge pulse of photonic anguish. At last it was extinguished – or quenched – and I saw no more.
I wonder what could quench such a glow?
Find out at www.tizer.blerk.org
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[I had a farm in Africa]posted by peter at 19:24 .......The faint smell of chlorine drifted over the raised concrete carpark this evening, announcing the proximity of a swimming pool and instantly flooding my mind with childhood impressions. I've always been a bit afraid of water, even though my family had a pool when I was a child. It was just an above-ground self-assembly type pool, and certainly was not very deep, but it provided cool refreshment from the acres of parched land that swept away beyond the timber decking. The aroma of the chlorine mingled with that of the freshly harvested crops to produce an olfactory reaction that even now instantly recalls childhood Summers.
Swimming lessons used to terrify me, and I had difficulty trusting any of the teachers. I don't know if my fear stems from a near drowning in a Melbourne spa as a very young child (and yes I am being melodramatic), or just a general feeling of lacking control (a side of my personality that I might gloss over at this point if you don't mind). I did used to swim quite often, but almost always preferred to sit inside reading a book, listening to music or playing my Game Boy. Anything to escape the infernal heat that blasted in from the Northern deserts. I guess some things never change.
It's amazing that even in an urban carpark I can experience an ambience that previously could only have occurred in the Mid North.
The said carpark has become a bit of a haunt of late, for the purpose of rollerblading. I love heading up there in the evenings to watch the splendid sunsets bleed from the sky whilst skating in a postmodern realm. Sometimes I talk on my mobile phone while skating amongst the parking spaces, and gosh I must be the picture of lameness. After all, it's hardly Venice Beach and I ain't no skater boy.
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[Weblog]posted by peter at 19:31 .......This site tends to function more as a journal than as a weblog, that is if we want to draw upon pedantic definitions. So tonight, for your surfing pleasure I am going to provide a whole heap of links.
Firstly, here are two sites that I recently completed, and was paid for. Something I hate about web design is trying to identify what clients actually want, and then dealing with the inevitable changes that they will invariably require. But these two went quite smoothly.
sturt upper reaches landcare group
by arrangement productionsThe next set of sites belong to some of my dearest friends, and hence receive much traffic from me:
battlecat
kyle
lisushi and the world
tizerI've never published an 'official' list of sites that I regularly visit, because to me it feels like publishing a list of preferred friends or something, which by nature excludes some people. So here's a set of sites that I frequent. I'll probably forget some but if I do I'll add them later. Some of these receive borderline-obsessive attention from me (so you'd better not publish your address), and others I visit when I'm in the mood for a particular web experience. It includes some very new discoveries.
a mistress of mind
aberdeen, scotland
blue like that
dreambox
halcyon days
momo freaks out
otis
out of order
paperback writer
redcat
toast and coffeeAs of about 20 seconds ago I've realised that I will be visiting absolutely vile regularly. The name alone does it for me.
Hopefully that's all, URLs can be surprisingly difficult to remember, and I'm not into using the 'Favourites' menu.
Well, this afternoon I saw the film The Pianist, and it was brilliant, so see it if you can. I just survived the desolation of a suburban railway station at about 9:20pm on a weeknight. Really quite creepy, similar to a photo I saw on the cover of The Sunday Age. There was just one other person lurking on the platform, and the station was a beacon of light shining across the tracks. I felt very exposed.
Continuing with fragmented thoughts, the other day I attracted yet another unusual encounter in the street, again on North Terrace, where some guy said to me "I like your shirt." I was simply wearing a dark brown Bonds tshirt which has yellow neck and sleeve-lines. I must have inadvertently given him a potent 'walk away' look after he said this, because he persisted by saying "no, I mean it; I really like your shirt!"
Well, thanks. But why stop there? At least compliment me on my hair, as many people have since my recent colour change. People in general need to learn how to win points.
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[]posted by peter at 14:24 .......A sodium lamp in the sky at dusk
its colour merges gracefully
suspended in a bleeding gradation, hovering without effort
anchored by a stem of steel
it mocks the falling sun, holding earth in half-light
or perhaps expresses sympathy
in a pale imitation of something more luminous
a reminder of times gone by.A passenger jet climbs above the clouds one morning
its course set for the sun, finds an early revelation:
a white sea lies beneath an orange sky
its waters tempestuous, translucent
closer inspection reveals static waves
on which nothing will float, in which nothing can drown.
Just as night smothers the street lamp
a rising star disposes of this fleeting world.
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[Red and green]posted by peter at 08:49 .......Strawberries and fresh basil. As unlikely as this combination would seem, it is surprisingly good. Who would have known, without the educative prowess of one ABC Delicious – Wicked cookbook? Very fresh-tasting, kind of like a peppermint substitute or something, obviously nothing minty about it though. Erk, I think I'm rambling.
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[Rox on]posted by peter at 11:17 .......Haven't the Roxy Squad been out in force lately? They've made their presence known on the streets with an indelible mark of bright pink. These young girls get dressed up to the nines in their matching Roxy hotpants and striped Roxy shirts, maybe completing the outfit with a Roxy military-style jacket with sewn on badges of the Roxy logo and other Paul Frank-like Roxy creations. Let's not forget the head-scarves.
I loved spotting them at the Big Day Out; their blaze of tangerine, lime green and matching sunglasses was redolent of the fruits of Summer. "Shouldn't you be in school?", I wondered pensively. Oh, if only all of life could be as simple as Roxy's season of identity marking and youth uniting clothes for the fun and zany young girls of our times.
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[Two tone]posted by peter at 21:00 .......I'm still reeling from the explosion of richness that was Trish's white chocolate cheesecake. Verily it was an assimilation of ample white chocolate, mascarpone and other dairy delights all supported on a very worthy base of crushed Digestives. Over and above it all cascaded the requisite river of chocolate ganache. How delicious.
The white chocolate content recalls the muffin which sustained me on my flight home from Melbourne this morning. It was a raspberry and white chocolate variety, and in an increasingly rare display of quality, it truly was delicious. Did I detect some almond meal? Perhaps.
We have been witnessing the degradation of the muffin in recent years, particularly because of the tendency to produce them in industrial proportions. The result is an enlarged, artificially shaped cake, with very few muffin-like qualities whatsoever.
I would argue that muffins need not be enormous, and should have a very 'rough and ready' texture and appearance. Seriously, the mixture should only be stirred about twice; none of this hyper-production thankyou very much. If I wanted a cake I would order a huge big wedge.
[Corporate]posted by peter at 20:57 .......You could have been forgiven for thinking it was a festival of middle-aged suits on the plane this morning. I avoided all eye content while trying to stay alive by forcing myself to breathe the soupy cologne-drenched air (which was further polluted by the stench of conformist boredom). Mind you don't spill anything on my patent leather shoes. I could tell that the man sitting next to me was a talker, and I'm sorry but at 8:15am in an airborne version of Wall Street I'm just not interested. It was the last straw when I overheard him going on about conspiracy theories with another passenger. Luckily I slept most of the way.
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[Stitch]posted by peter at 12:21 .......The lunchtime 30+ male shirtless jogger: might it be a phenomenon all the world over? What do they think they are doing? Jogging around town in loose parachute shorts and if you're lucky a singlet, but more often than not bare chested with nipples bouncing up and down on a sea of post-peak flab. Bald spots on the back of their heads mirror the sheen from the shoulders, like the collector point atop an array of solar reflectors. Huge sweat patches gradually spread like a tectonic drift, and reddened faces gasp for air that doesn't flow quickly enough.
All a bit offputting if you ask me.
I particularly love seeing all the Corporate Cup participants, and recognising my place in such an event. There are the uniformed ones out the front who run with grim determination, and have probably been in training for the last four months. That's not me. There are the ones who are into the idea of health and jog intermittently as best they can, with short bursts followed by quick breaks. That's not me. There are the event-oriented ones who want to encourage teamwork and who wouldn't dream of letting the side down. "Come on Jennifer, we're nearly there! That's the spirit Gary!" they shout, as correctly completed sponsorship forms fly from their hands like a flock of paper cranes. That's not me. Then there are those who just walk in their office wear, avoiding the sun as much as possible and generally just enjoying the opportunity to get out of the office and have a good chat. That's nearly me, but not quite.
No, the ones who most approximate me are those who quickly duck down a side street when nobody's looking and dash into the nearest air-conditioned coffee shop to spend the hour with caffeine, perhaps a bit of light lunch and comfort. That's me.
Oh, last night I attended a lesbian pool competition. I was half of the two-person cheer-squad for my friend. Windows into other lives... so interesting. I think I'll publish my blog now.
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[Melbourne]posted by peter at 10:59 .......Being a stickler for consistency, I'm going to write about Melbourne in the travel section, even though I practically live here.
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