Adding on Italy.

So...flights from Paris to Rome are ridiculously cheap. And my sister has a relative or some such who has offered us their Italian holiday home. When i read Eat Pray Love I flew to Rome and took these photos. I'm about to go and watch the movie.

Can i part with you for Paris?

This has become my mantra and gosh, has it been getting a work out the last few days.
I really need to stop spending money on nonsense and start saving for things like plane tickets to romantic European cities.
Resisting potential purchases by asking myself "Can i part with you for Paris?" has been quite effective.

A muffin with that coffee ? no thank you.
The entire Fluer Wood spring collection? oui oui i can part with you.
Can i part with a copy of Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close? I sure can. That's what libraries are for.
What about those cute jeans in the window? okay...i guess
New nail polish? but i love nail polish....
And tickets to the Lemonheads in December? Well now you are just going too far.
You don't really need new water colour pencils do you? Not really but they are so pretty.
And you can live without buying that expensive organic fair trade coffee and just have instant, yes? I refuse to answer that on the basis that it will incriminate me.

But I have been very restrained with cafes and restaurants and have actually cooked about 10 times this week. Every time i bite into another cheese and avocado sandwich i just remember how sweet the croissants with be on the banks of the Seine.

Spring

You know how i know it is Spring? By looking in my handbag.

Contents include 3 pairs of sunglasses, hay fever tablets and an assortment of tram tickets (i keep accidently getting drunk in the sunshine and having to leave my car in inconvenient places.)
I like Spring. It is not as obviously seductive as Summer, nor as stand offish as Winter. I used to love Autumn but now it reminds me of weddings and death. nice. So Spring it is!

I started Spring cleaning my room today. Moving shoes around, rearranging visual diaries, considering chucking my 5000 books that occupy every single surface available. I got to the desk "area" (It does seem to spread itself out) and paused-is there really any need? I have 10 classes left, I write my essays in cafes and the desk top is quite handy for holding clothes, makeup and stray canvases. Maybe after two years of study, i can finally admit that i have terrible study habits. Even the desk chair was relegated to the sunroom after being assessed as useless to me about 6 months ago. I have two essays to write. Maybe i can just stick to the theme and enjoy writing them as i sip coffee and sniff flowers, instead of trying to contort into Madam Academic who has a clean desk and somewhere to sit.

Done.

David Bromley is selling his house and other local news.

Hi y'all.

I just went for a 6.5km walk/run/wander through the wonderful streets of St Kilda. I constantly whinge about how boring the suburbs are-all those tree lined streets and power walking mums-with-prams. Cafes on every available corner, the beach outside my front door, community gardens offering up mint and chickens and rabbits to pat. Gosh, what a shit place to live.

I think i get bored of this place because it's all so old hat to me. I have these spoilt brat blinkers on that prevent me from truly appreciating how lucky i am. But today i tried. I watched the roller coaster at Luna Park until i felt vicarious dizziness and even took my ipod out of my ears as i walked down Acland street. I sprinted through the gardens where i got married and held my breath as i walked past my ex husbands apartment (remember doing that as a kid when you walked past a cemetery? Or was that just me?) and I finally felt like It's a Pretty Beautiful Place to Live.

Also, my favourite artist is selling his house. His house which happens to have his murals covering the walls. This to me is like buying the skirt and the supermodel waist line. Does anyone have a spare 3.5 million i can have? You can totally come to stay whenever you like. I'll even buy you a coffee.

xxxx

Lets go to Paris before we get old and ugly.

This is what my sister just said to me down the phone. And I cannot think of a single reason why this is not the best idea I have ever heard.

I spent an afternoon in Paris last February. In transit from Amsterdam to London, it was less glamourous than one might imagine. I did drink coffee and eat cake as i waited for the Eurostar to arrive though, all the while promising myself i would be back one day to ride a moped to Notra Dame and doodle in my Moleskin for hours on end.

We have decided to go in the Spring time which coincides with my 30th birthday which coincides with my divorce being finalised which coincides with what a great time to get out of Melbourne and wear pretty dresses in the sunshine.

I am imagining we will live it up like these two femme fatales did when they visited one episode, i mean day:



Okay, okay, so we may not be 20 year old Teen Vogue interns, but sometimes, when Whitney has not had much sleep, i kinda look like her. If i pull my hair into a bun and squint while looking in the mirror.

The main point is, I love traveling, i love my sister and i cannot think of a better way to spend my birthday, n'est-ce pas?

Closing night of whinge fest 2010

Good afternoon.

I have GOT to get out of this headspace i am currently occupying as i have an essay to write in the next few hours.

So here is the good news:

I love my new ipod. It is really pretty.
On Friday i walked 4km,
On Saturday i walked 4.5km
Sunday i didn't walk but i did work which is almost the same.
And today i have walked 2km and will go for another walk AFTER i have done my essay.
This is all good news.

I just slept for 12 hours after my weirdly emotional day yesterday. It seems like yesterday was a week ago.

I only have 12 more classes left. In my entire thing. I hope i learn some useful stuff.

That is all.

Sunday.

I found out today that your cousin passed away on Friday.
"I have some bad news" you said, looking me straight in the eye.
Like a punch to my stomach, i felt the news crash into my orbit.
Your eyes! The truth was in your eyes and for a split second i wondered when i had seen you look like that before....
Bad news? For you to call it bad, i knew it must be terrible. I knew what was coming. I have been waiting for the other shoe to drop since your mother died. Every time i speak to you, i feel like something awful is going to come out of your mouth. Some tragedy, some pain, some shocking, slapping reality check about the world being not-so-great-after-all. "She's dead, I'm leaving." What's next? When you call my phone more than once in a day i assume that you have an inoperable cancer and that you are phoning from the hospital, to blurt the news out in a rush of garbled sounds, no regard for the woman on the receiving end. My radar is set to Panic when it comes to you, my dear. I hear it in my head seconds before you say anything. You are always calling about your tax return or to ask what the cats date of birth is and i am bracing myself for a side swipe.
Not this time though.

Your family, is no longer my family. The ties of marriage have been severed, responsibility absolved. i will not be flying up to Sydney with you. i will not stand by your side during the funeral. i will not shake my head about a life so tragically cut short. I will not hold your hand through this one.
I just squeezed your arm and watched from a distance as grief warped your features (again.) I know it was hard for you to say the words. So sickeningly familiar.
Because it was suicide. And that makes me sick. It makes me cry and feel numb all at once. How much does one family have to withstand? Is it genetic? Why does this keep happening?
The last conversation i had with him was about karaoke. We drank beer and talked about your mother. Fuck.

I have no words. i have no answers. I have nothing to offer you in this. I am just sorry for you. I am sorry for his parents. I am sorry for his sister and his brother and your sister and your brother and everyone in the whole wide world who ever goes through this.
It challenges my world view. changes my ever evolving belief system. Bad things do happen to good people. This is life. And sometimes it is just fucking unfair.