My hour for tea is half-past five, and my buttered toast waits for nobody.

Apparently I can walk out of the house in anything but a Hello Kitty onesie, according to Himself. Good to know.

There was some chick wearing a painfully bright orange Tigger onesie with bright pink hair and matching bright pink heels on the bus down to Canberra, and, frankly, nursing a massive migraine, I simply wasn't in the mood. Apparently 47% of respondendents polled by the Sydney Morning Herald agree with my curmudgeonly view that animal themed onsies, worn in public, on public transport, are a sure sign that the end of civilisation is nigh.

Oh dear, having more and more of those grumpy old 'you left the house looking like that?' moments. Especially those girls who got on the train at some podunk stop, heading into Newcastle (UK) on a Friday night. Now I grew up in a place so reknown for its skanks and moles people still always raise an eyebrow when I admit to my geographic origins, so imagine what these girls must have looked like to set me back in my seat.

Another one of those wrist slitting I am turning into my mother moments (please, no).

Anyways, today I am dressed like I'm off to join Department S, and it was entirely unintentional. The only tops to hand (in the dark) were my powder blue top, the one that screams 'please slime me', and my ochre turtle neck, so, easy choice. Next I fumbled further and found my black cardy with the white piping, and yes okay, it is stupidly retro, but comfy, and, as it was raining at the time (blue skies everywhere now), I picked my pencil skirt and leggings and those new silly lace up boots with the chunky heels I bought and lugged clumsily all the way back from Canberra because they were on special and I am insane, just 'cause I didn't want my long skirts dragging through knee high wet grass on the trek to the bus stop. Put the hair up in a bun because I forgot to wash it and now I look like I'm ready to chase after naughty men in silver space suits. Oh dear. And yet I strangely don't care.

So, yes, Canberra. Went off to see the Turner exhibition, not because I'm wild about Turner, but because it was all the way from the UK and I figured I ought to go and get myself educated (as though I'd never frogmarched myself around the Turner Gallery at the Tate because I knew I had to).

Still wouldn't walk across broken glass to see a Turner (though catching a bus down to Canberra with a mighty migraine must count) but it wasn't too bad. Near the end of the exhibition period, so not too crowded, and, being a piddling little show for the colonies, featuring, as always, just the early stuff and the late stuff (never the good stuff with the artist at the height of his powers).
( more: Peace through chemistry )

You know, I could wring my hands over drowned polar bears and flooded islands as well as the next bleeding heart pinko greenie, but when I hear that pasty little Englishmen are contemplating wearing shorts in the city, this is where I must draw the line. No, no, a thousand times no. We must stop this outrage and do something about climate change and warming trends. Now. This instant!

No one should ever have to see an Englishman's knees. It's just too terrible to contemplate.
( more: look what they did to my show, ma )

So I saw someone rocking the full Chrissie Hynde this morning, and I did think for a minute, in my bleary, sleep deprived state, that maybe that dvd boxset had hit me harder than I thought last night and I'd ended up in 1978.

No such luck. Just another dreary weekday. Oh well.
( more: epic fail )

Went off to another philosophy lecture on Saturday. I love those. I love the ideas I discover, the wild and wide ranging discussion, the aha! moments. I like the way philosophy tries to apply scientific methodology to the esoteric, ethereal, emotional and spiritual. Whether it works or not depends on your own personal philodophy, but for someone like me, completely clueless and born without the manual everyone else seems to have, reading someone elses's observations is invaluable. Also, one nod from the Prof counters almost a week's worth of snips, snarks and red penned rejection at work.

It makes me happy, in a proper Socratic sense of happiness, so why not, eh?

And it keeps me off the streets. Very useful.
( more: somewhere over the rainbow )

So many crazy deadlines, and only a few of them self inflicted, and I'm up to my eyeballs in disposal schedules (clearing out room and desk). Oh well, at least I'm not as bad as Diddums, who had his first month of working a five day week, like, ever, and forgot to make tea with teabags. Okay, yeah, I did the same the other week, but I hadn't slept in six weeks then (and I work F/T and go out lots). Had my first weekend home since mid Jan and I figure I got some stuff done. More to do, but I figure if I get anything done, I'm doing well.

It was my turn to do the shopping and cooking last night, and despite a broken shoe and several heavy textbooks in my bag, I reckon I did okay, and tea made me so happy I slept like a baby. I bet Diddums wasn't happy because it was so heavy on the dairy, but this is what happens when you make a mad hormonal woman do the shopping. I made fettuccine with smoked salmon, mascarpone and cracked pepper. So wrong and so right. I liked it.

There was fruit to follow, too, and more dairy, with a dollop of King Island yoghurt. Heh. Well, I slept the soundest sleep I've had in a year, so I was very happy.

Yeah, I know, I'm going to have to work it off, but all this packing of groceries/books/stuff across town and back again sans automobile should do it, and if it doesn't, what's the point of it? It's not like I don't go through several pairs of shoes a month. Either the Chinese are making really shoddy shoes these days, or we must admit that I do actually wear through quite a bit of rubber, despite appearances to the contrary.
( more: American tv, American theater (sic) )

That was fun. Once again Melbourne has proved itself to be the most magical city on earth.

By happy accident rather than good planning, it so happened that my trip to Melbourne coincided with White Night, and I'm so glad it did. Best night ever. So much to see and do, and I never even made it to dawn (I blame the twelve hour day I was flogged through on Friday). But it was so delightful, so magical, so wonderful.
( more: a night to remember )